It's moving day!

Oh my god, I am so ready for moving to be done and over with. We spent the past week packing slowly and this past weekend doing nothing but moving, cleaning, and crying. At this very moment, a nice Irish man is in my kitchen, packing my dishes. And I am at a FedEx Kinko's typing this because @#$@^! AT&T can't keep their network running. I can't wait to be done moving!

How to pack (with cats) (without packing the cats)

Step 1: Gather materials: flattened box; packing tape; tape cutter.
Step 2: Unfold box and set it on ground in open position, upside down.
Step 3: Fold in bottom flaps; tape in place.
Step 4: Flip box over so open end faces up.
Step 5: Gather up items that should go into box.
Step 6: Curse upon discovering cat inside box.
Step 7: Set down gathered items; fish cat out of box. (Cat may yowl about indignity of it all. Ignore cat.)
Step 8: Dump items in box.
Step 9: Gather more items to go in box.
Step 10: Shout obscenities upon finding cat in box. Again.
Step 11: Put down gathered items; fish cat out of box. Again.
Step 12: Once box is filled, fold down top flaps and prepare to tape in place.
Step 13: Threaten to kill cat as cat jumps up on box and gets self tangled in tape.
Step 14: Laugh hysterically as cat flips out because cat cannot escape scary tape stuck to cat's back.
Step 15: Tape cat(s) to floor to get cat(s) out of way.
Step 16: Proceed with above, leaving out steps 6, 7, 10, 11, 13, and 14.

KEYS!

We have keys! We have keys!

I'm trapped in a box!

I have nothing to post about right now. But I have to make the following public service announcement:

Please head over to LiveJournal to read Rita's hat entry. Even if you don't know Rita. It is seriously one of the funniest things I have ever read--in my life. It's the August 24, 2006 entry entitled "Exhibits A through M: A Very Big Hat." I couldn't figure out how to permalink it. (Yes, I am dumb.)

Newly poor

So! We signed our loan documents today and the process wasn't nearly as bad as I'd imagined (based on what other people have said about it). The bad part was writing the check for the balance on the down payment: OUCH. I could barely fit the spelled-out amount on the check. Afterward, Chris and I went out for lunch to celebrate. In keeping with our newly depleted checking account, we shared a fine meal of pizza slices from Escape from N.Y. Pizza. I think I'm still in shock over how much cash we just put down. It's...yeah. Good thing we both like PB&J and ramen.

And now we wait for the checks to clear. I think we get the keys on Wednesday!

Self-inflicted

I think I've written about it before, but I'm a little clumsy. I trip over my own feet as I walk, crash into doorjambs, and sometimes, just fall down. And that's just me by myself. Throw an object into the mix, and it's a recipe for disaster. A few weeks ago, I was puttering around the house and was just absently walking around, holding a plastic hanger. For some reason, I was holding it about chest height, with one of its ends pointed straight at my sternum. Which would be okay, except for the fact that I walked too close to the bedroom door and basically rammed the end of the hanger straight into my chest.

Two days later, I was vacuuming and went to unplug the vacuum. I grabbed the cord about a foot from the plug and as I was pulling it out of the wall, I realized the plug bit was going to splash into the cats' water bowl below, so I did some sort of flippy thing with my wrist and managed to swing the plug up and away from the water...straight into my nose. Hard.

And then there was this morning. I did some laundry last night and hung up a jacket to dry. Chris moved it from the doorway and hung it against a high piece of molding on the wall. As I tried to get it down this morning, I couldn't reach the hanger itself, so I grabbed the bottom of the jacket and sort of pushed up to dislodge the hanger. And of course, the hooky end of the hanger flipped down and bonked me right on the forehead.

It hurts to be me.

A non-conversation

Anyone who knows me knows that my mom drives me crazy. She doesn't so much talk to you as talks at you. I called her over the weekend just to say hi* and we ended up talking about our impending move. She wanted to know when we're moving. The following non-conversation ensued:

fel: We don't know exactly when we're moving yet, because we're still waiting to get quotes from movers.
Mom: Oh, so you don't have movers yet? You should get Chinese movers. They're a lot cheaper.
f: That's a great idea, but I don't know how to find Chinese movers.
M: Oh, they advertise all the time in the Chinese newspaper.
f: Ma, I don't know how to read Chinese.
M: But seriously! They're so much cheaper!
f: I didn't say they weren't. I just don't know how to go about finding them!
M: Like, for example, a Chinese mover might charge you $800, while an "American" [i.e., non-Chinese] mover might charge you $2,000.
f: What? Where did you get those numbers? How do you know that?
M: Oh, I don't know how much they really charge. It's just an example!
f: An example? Of what? Based on what?! [blood pressure builds]
M: Oh, stop it. It's just an example. Anyway, you should really get Chinese movers.
f: ... Fine, Ma. But I still don't know how to find them. Anyway, if they're so cheap, are they good?
M: Well, I don't know. I mean, you pack your own stuff and they move it, so it depends on how well you pack it.
f: Okay, but what about the furniture? Are they going to be careful or bang everything up?
M: Well, it's not like you have any nice furniture anyway.
f: Still! I want the furniture I DO HAVE to NOT BE BROKEN!
M: Geez, calm down. Anyway, you should look into Chinese movers.
f: GAH! I KNOW! BUT I DON'T READ CHINESE AND CAN'T LOOK THEM UP IN CHINESE NEWSPAPERS!
M: [all huffy] Well, fine. You don't HAVE to. I just thought it was a good idea.
f: GAAAAAH! [contemplates lying down in traffic]

*She complains that I never call her, even though I do. I just don't call as often as she'd like. But here's the thing: she never calls me. Because she's the mom and it's my job to call her. But see above: why would I?