moving house

Well, it's been a week since I got the keys to the new place... and while my initial feelings have softened a little bit (more on that once we get into the meat of the week), I'm still not really feeling this place. It's, to quote Heath Ledger in 10 Things I Hate About You, without. Exactly what it's without will become apparent as we go, but that really is the best term at present, it's without. It's definitely without many of the things I had at the old place, like more room, sensible kitchen cupboards, airflow, wall space and a decent bathroom.

And I never thought I'd say it... but I miss the planes. Mostly because I'd trade the occasional plane in for the seemingly constant stream of trucks and cars along the road outside (okay, it's a major highway, what did I expect... although to be honest for all the obsessing, I don't think I actually THOUGHT about this place all that much before I said yes.

There's also a part of me that wonders if I should have held out to hear about the place on Greenhill Road. That had it's own flaws, but storage wasn't one of them, and while it was on a major road, it was set back in the middle of the block. But of course hindsight, or alternative universe sight in this instance I guess, is 20/20

I will say that I've heard or seen even less of my neighbours (not counting on moving day) than I did at the old place. Maybe it's the road noise that covers up neighbour noise, I don't know... but at least it's quiet on that front.

Clearly this is still part of the grieving process... and hopefully once I actually get everything sorted into an actual spot and can start to experience the place as it should be, I'll feel slightly better about it. Unlike last time where either everything had a place right from the start or was unpacked very, very quickly, or was only purchased after I'd moved in and already had a specific spot in mind for it, this is much more a case of trying to rearrange what was a purpose built set of items to fit new purposes. And as at the end of this week I still have about a dozen boxes to unpack, not counting the five boxes that have artworks in them.

It's also a matter of changing every single routine I had to completely new ones (something I wasn't looking forward to during the last move, but which fortunately never actually happened)... I'll freely admit that I'm a creature of routine and habit, possibly to the case of being in a very deep but very comfortable rut (is it a rut if you don't feel like it's a rut and it's just the way you do things?), so all of this change all at once isn't something that excites me.

Also, while the walk home after work is a good substitute for the morning walk I hadn't done for quite a while now, it has lead to a giant blister on one of my toes and to be perfectly honest, it's really boring compared to the old walk. No, that's not completely true, it's not really that the other walk was more exciting, it's more that the other walk was infinitely more picturesque (and, shorter by half)... this really is an ugly walk.

I think I'll feel more human when I have functional internet again to be honest... although I feel like I really need to have unpacked most of the boxes before that happened or I'll get sucked into catching up on internets and not feel inspired to unpack stuff.

So, yeah, that's the kind of TLDNR version, the full version complete with late night dashes across town, utility failure, repeated references to stairs, a cleaning palooza of the highest order and many words of general annoyance is below for your reading pleasure.


Friday

Today has been an ongoing clusterfuck of epic proportions... most of it caused by utility companies.

I got up about as early as usual this morning, after soaking up the very last of my functional internets, I jumped in the shower, got dressed, moved a bunch of stuff from under my bed into the lounge room and then got in the car (after I got the tradie who's working on one of the other apartments in the building to move his ute... which shouldn't have been parked there anyway) and headed down to see my mechanic.

That was easy enough... give him the keys, explain the problem and I was out of there in a couple of minutes. Ma was waiting for me across the street in the car park of our regular Saturday supermarket. We headed into the supermarket to pick up some stuff for breakfast and some final cleaning supplies.

Then it was back here to try and make sense out of the detritus spread from one end of my apartment to the other. Well, after we'd eaten our breakfast anyway.

I really don't remember a lot of what we did, or in what order. I know that I really had no fucking idea what the hell I was doing at various points and I did end up doing some cleaning (which needs doing and it seemed like a good thing to do when I was otherwise clueless). Ma powered through packing various boxes like a boss, making all my kitchen leftovers disappear.

Around 10:30 or so I realised that my modem didn't have all the little lights on it like it should do. But I picked up the phone and I still seemed to have a dial tone, so I was a little confused. Then I tried calling my landline number... "this number has been disconnected". End of a motherfucking era right there... that number has been connected for the last twenty years, give or take... and now it's dead.

Anyway, that meant that I could call my ISP and get them to start the process of getting me connected again. By which I mean I could call the offshore call centre that services my ISP and have them not be as helpful as I would have liked. The main problem is that my old, local ISP got bought out by a larger company and of course the useful and cost effective plans that the old ISP had are no longer in their system. I ended up being on the phone with the guy for about 25 minutes as he tried to help me as best he could... but basically it came down to the fact that he could only do what the computer would let him do. In the space of those 25 minutes I went from an account that cost $50 with 400GB of access to an account that costs $60 with 150GB of access. Now granted I never get anywhere near using 400GB, and they doubled it at Christmas for no apparent reason from 200GB, but it's the fucking principal of the thing. Last time my ISP was bought up by another company and I had to take up a new plan it was to my benefit, not theirs. Suffice to say that I was singularly unhappy about this development. And I made it very clear to the poor call centre dude that I was unhappy. I know it's not his fault, but he is the only contact I have with the company, so he had to bear the brunt. I told him I knew it wasn't his fault... but I just needed to vent.

While I was on the phone the removal company messaged me to say they were on their way to drop off the mobile wardrobe I ordered.

It seemed to take him much longer than the half hour he said, but to be honest, I think that may have been because I was a little worked up about the whole ISP situation. But he was pretty when he finally did get here, so I forgave him (and I think he was only about five or so minutes past the time to be honest).

Like last time though I found that a large number of my coat hangers are just too damn wide for the box... and I broke about three of them, which is never fun. But I filled it up with as much stuff as I could, and like last time, everything else I'll bundle up into groups, throw a garbage bag over the coat hangers and chuck them in the back of one of the cars.

Eventually we reached that point where we had a natural break and it was around lunchtime (well, it was closer to 1pm probably), so we piled Ma's car with a bunch of plastic storage boxes and headed off to the other side of the city to pick up my keys. Did I mention in my last post that my real estate agency has an office just near my new place, however we had to go to their other office, much further away from both my current place and the new place to get them.

On the way there my mechanic called me to say that the brakes just needed a new hose, but that my two back tyres should be replaced. I'm pretty sure he'd been saying that for a while, and given that it's been over a year since my last service, I just told him to go ahead. Part of it is that I'm spending so much damn money this week, what's another chunk.

When we got to the real estate agency, getting the keys was a pretty painless process, go in, sign a couple of things, get a fucking handbook (yeah, seriously, a whole handbook, I'll have to read it later when I'm actually in the mood to absorb information) and get the multicoloured keys in the photo above.

Then we were off to my new place.

Turns out there actually are parking spaces out the front of the building, so that's going to be useful tomorrow and ongoingly... depending on when they're not full of other people's cars to be honest.

And the parking space I have in the block could not actually be any further away from my apartment... like there is no physical way for it to be further away.

But I finally got to set foot into my new apartment (since it became mine I mean, I'm not really counting the open inspection)... and I'm not going to beat around the bush, currently I hate everything about it. I hate the windows (they're hard to open, there's a window that doesn't open at all, some of them have stupid locks I'm rarely going to use, one of them doesn't have a flyscreen and has actually been screwed shut for some unknown reason and the kitchen window inexplicably has curtains that are about fifty times too long), I hate the blinds (the cords are all tangled and I was having trouble trying to open them), I hate the fact that shit was left behind in the apartment when it's supposed to be emptied out (and why am I the only moron who ever actually empties stuff out of a place when I leave?). I hate the giant stove that is completely pointless for a small one bedroom apartment and was clearly bought cheap because it makes no sense. I hate all of the kitchen cupboards which are either painfully skinny, painfully tall or otherwise painful, with far too many fucking shelves in them.

The one saving grace is the fact that while I have no memory of a wardrobe and none of the photos showed a wardrobe (a little bit like the phantom airconditioner to be honest), there's actually a built in robe behind the bedroom door that looks like it will have more than enough space for my clothes. And that means the crappy IKEA wardrobes in the pointless space between the bedroom and bathroom can actually be used as a linen closet and a broom cupboard respectively. So at least that's a plus. Means that I don't have to buy a wardrobe... a chest of drawers to house underwear and socks and all the other detritus I had in the old house, but not a wardrobe.

I really have no idea how the fuck I missed that though... clearly I really wasn't paying attention when I was there the first time. And it's mirrored and everything... so it's not fucking subtle.

Anyway, after we'd schlepped all the boxes up into the apartment, we decided to grab some lunch at Burnside Village. That's kind of when the wheels fell off the whole day.

As we headed past the letterboxes I decided to check and see if there was anything in there... thinking there wouldn't be. Turns out there was... a card from SA Power Networks saying that they'd tried to connect my electricity but couldn't because they couldn't get to the switch box. So that's an issue... it means I have no power, and I move in tomorrow.

While Ma was ordering lunch I sat down and called Origin... long boring conversation ensued. And then I called the stupid SAPN people myself to see if I could get some kind of resolution. The short version of the very dumb story is that they "legally" need to see the switch box before they can turn on the power. Which is so fucking dumb. But of course they can't just say "we'll get a guy out between time A and time B", no, it's essentially "you have to be there between 9am and 6pm".

I did work out a slight compromise in that they're supposed to call me about half an hour before the guy rocks up so that I can get in my car and go screaming down the road to get there before he arrives so that I can let him look at the fucking main switch for all of five seconds (I'm guessing). And there's no other fucking way to do that other than to waste what could be an entire day waiting for him to show up. Plus because I want them to connect the damn electricity today... actually tonight, it's going to cost me an extra $50 and it could be any point between about now (7:30pm) and midnight.
make the comparison to the current place and say that when I moved in here it was all so much simpler and I didn't have any problems at all. But that's both true and completely untrue... I had power and gas, yes, because they were still connected... but then I had to jump through all kinds of hoops to get an actual electricity account sorted out, and I had no idea until the end of my first week that I even had a separate account for my gas hot water. However part of me would take that over this current situation any day of the week. And if for whatever reason things don't work out today, I honestly don't know what the fuck I'm going to do... do I just come back here to steal power? I honestly don't know.
Which I think is why I'm back to that feeling where I just want to burst into tears at a moment's notice. I hate the first look of the apartment, and because of stupid and arbitrary rules that have nothing to do with me and that I do not give a single shit about, I may not have any power when I move in.

Gas appears to be fine, I'm guessing the phone is fine although I haven't taken the handset to the new place to check yet, but it rings when you call it, so I'm guessing its okay. It's just I have no damn power.

Hopefully the guy calls me soonish (or to be honest at all), and that he gives me enough time to actually get there, and while it's a pain to have to drive all the way to the new place for such a small thing, that I actually have power tomorrow.

All of this took me just under half an hour on the phone (thank fuck I don't normally use a lot of my 600 minutes as part of my phone plan, because I've used a ton of them today), at which point I was so fucking angry about the whole damn situation.

And while I was on the phone I got a message from the mechanic to say that the car was ready, so we headed over to pick up my car with now functional brakes and two new tyres. That cost me the princely sum of $660, just under $200 of which was new tyres... so fuck that for a game of skittles. But it had to be done. I just wish it didn't have to be done this week.

Ma dropped me off at the mechanic and I followed once I was done.

When we got back we started the final stretch of packing... but that's when the combination of there not being a ton left to do and my total lack of care factor about life in general really kicked in. So I ended up cleaning the stove some, and bits of the kitchen and then eventually I went outside and washed down the kitchen windows and the windowsill and wiped down the door... not that I really needed to, but it felt good to do something at least nominally productive.

And if I do it now, it means less that Ma ends up doing tomorrow while I'm driving between the two apartments (or that we end up doing together tomorrow).

Once we'd essentially done everything we could, Ma had a rest in the one free chair to watch the end of the DVD I had playing and I sat on the floor in front of the chair... and I honestly had to fight back tears. Yes, it's probably for the same reason that I burst into tears during the last move because I couldn't find a folder of paperwork... it's mostly that post adrenaline crash and a general inability to process what's going on in my brain any other way.

After the movie was over we did some last minute organisation, and then filled up Ma's car with everything that she was taking away before she headed off into the night... well, the afternoon. And now I'm just sitting here with no internet waiting for a phone call that will hopefully come sooner rather than later. And if it doesn't, I honestly don't know what the fuck I'm going to do.

To be continued...

10:30pm

I just came back from a run to the new place... partly because I wanted to check to see if the electricity guy had already been and hadn't called me, mostly because it was better for my mental health than staring intently at the phone willing it to ring.

The run was pretty damn easy, even if it does take me through that most hated of all Adelaide landmarks, the Britannica Roundabout... granted the roundabout is not as bad now as it once was, but it's still pretty complicated. I didn't pay complete attention to how long the run too, but it didn't feel that long all things considered.

He hadn't been, thankfully, but that means that I'm still waiting for him and will have to continue to wait until midnight, at which point I will give up, go to bed and call people to abuse them tomorrow.

I dropped the few bits and pieces I'd taken with me off, and sat around on the floor for a little while. Had I had electricity there may have been a point to sticking around, as it stood, not so much. I did happen to see the neighbour in the building next door... and wow, I need some appropriate length curtains for that kitchen window pretty damn fast, he's not only some sort of crazy hoarder man, he just looks batshit crazy. Hopefully he's the quiet kind of batshit.

But for now I continue to wait...

1:00am

Yes, you read that right... one o'clock in the morning.

I gave up the wait at around quarter to twelve, assuming that if the dude supposedly works until midnight, and that I'd paid extra to make sure he showed up on Friday, then anything after midnight was officially not going to happen.

And technically he didn't call me on Friday. He called me at about 12:03am, just after I'd fallen asleep, so I was woken with a start and was pretty unaware of what the hell was happening, but was paying enough attention to tell him that I was at the old house, not the new one and that I would meet him there. I then threw on some clothes and drove like the devil between the two houses.

Thankfully the traffic was pretty light after midnight (no kidding!), and I caught most of the lights. He still beat me there, but fortunately he was just coming down the stairs, I'm guessing from knocking on my door, as I walked up to the block.

Now, I fully understand that the "requirement" for them to check the meter box is so that they know the power is off, so they don't electrocute themselves (I'm guessing anyway)... however the guy came in, looked at the switch that I'd turned off earlier in the day, just looked. Didn't touch it, nothing. Then he went downstairs and did whatever it is that power company guys to do connect power, then told me it was all ready to go, I flicked the main switch on, and I had the electricity.

He was here for a grand total of maybe five minutes if that. And the fact that he couldn't have damn well done that without me needing to be there is beyond stupid.

But for better or for worse it does mean I have power and won't be sitting around in the dark the after moving in.

I then proceeded to poke around the apartment, switch all the lights off (given that they were all on for some reason), was unimpressed with the fact that the light in the bathroom turns the fan on as well, and there's no way to switch on just the fan... even using the switch marked "fan". I also had a brief attempt at setting the clock on the oven, which is a distressingly large (like industrial sized, cooking for a family of 16 or a professional grade kitchen kind of large) oven, which was largely unsuccessful... I'm going to need to Google the instruction manual for both that and the air conditioner when I get to work on Tuesday.

At the end of all that I was both incredibly hyped up on adrenaline and as I drove home I found that I was suddenly completely starving. I hadn't wanted to go and get any food (since everything I own is packed at this point) since I figured that as soon as I left the house the electricity guy would call and I'd have to abandon said food, and may not even get back to my place in time to make it to the new place in time. If I'd known then what I know now, I would have gotten food. However I didn't, and the general worry made me not even feel hungry. Once the situation was sorted I was suddenly starving.

So I did what I was going to do originally and called into the North Adelaide Burger Bar to pick up a schnitzel pack (yeah, I know, but they're damn tasty and it's potentially my very last one for the foreseeable future. Being there around 1am with all the usual late night clientele was interesting, although to be honest not THAT different from their usual clientele.

That all meant that by the time I'd eaten and let me food settle a little it was after 2am... so yeah, that was a horrible plan the night before moving house.

Saturday - Moving Day

Well, having about four hours sleep was really NOT the way I wanted to start moving day... but it is what it is...

Once I got up I kind of pottered about a bit looking at the crap everywhere in the apartment before I had a quick shower and then starting unmaking the bed... well unmaking it and then deconstructing it so that it was good to go.

When Ma arrived she brought Macca's breakfast with her... just the ticket, although I think I was still a little full of the early morning dinner.

The order that we started doing things has kind of drifted out of my brain at this point (it's been a busy day), but I think we did an early run to the new place with a car load each, and I know I cleaned the shower cubicle at once point (that might have been after the movers to be honest though). And just before noon I decided that I needed to move everything that the movers were going to be taking into the living room and everything they weren't touching into the bedroom. I was most of the way done when the movers arrived... slightly ahead of schedule (only by a few minutes), which is always nice.

They weren't as cute as one half of the last pair... but I think I got my regulation dose of cute from the two guys who came to deliver boxes... one of whom was the cute half of the last pair. And I'm not sure if they were as good as the last pair either, although a) I have a ton more stuff (45 boxes instead of around 30... plus all the extra furniture) and b) last time it wasn't so damn hot. And unlike last time I was actually around for the packing up part. So unlike last time I ended up helping them carry stuff down the stairs... SO! MANY! STAIRS! And so many trips back up said stairs.

To be honest though I would rather carry things down a set of stairs all day long than up the stairs... but even so it was pretty damn exhausting, especially since I was moving more at their pace than my usual pace... and they do this shit professionally.

I also packed up my car so that I wasn't making an empty trip, and eventually they'd packed the truck as packed as it was going to get so we headed off to the new place, leaving Ma behind to get properly stuck into the cleaning portion of the day, bless her little cotton socks.

After some minor wrangling regarding parking outside the new place, we started unpacking everything and schlepping it up the much, much smaller set of stairs (but still, you know, fucking stairs). It did get to a certain point though where I just couldn't do it anymore... mostly because we were down to the really heavy boxes, and I wasn't even going to attempt that.

But finally all the stuff was out of the van and in my apartment... and as always after a move it was piled up any old way, but at least it was in the apartment. So all that was left to do was settle up the bill... and with the supply of boxes, the almost hour and a half it took pack the truck, the almost hour and a half to unpack it again, plus travel time, the total came to $700. Expensive yes, but that was partially because it was a Saturday and that always costs more. And there was literally no way at all I could have done it by myself.

Once they were gone, I called Ma to let her know what the state of the world was, then unpacked my car. While I was doing that I met the downstairs neighbours... I was going down to the car and they were outside barbequing, and I just stopped and said that I'd moved in upstairs and apologised if there were any bumps and thumps. They seem nice... they're from some country that speaks Spanish... I'm guessing somewhere in South America to be honest. But it's the first time I've bothered to introduce myself to my neighbours without provocation or without them introducing themselves first. Almost something an actual grown-up would do. Anyway, once I was done with unpacking the car I headed back to the old apartment. On the way back I stopped off for some food, since it was after 3pm and neither Ma or I had eaten anything since breakfast.

Ma had done a pretty epic job with cleaning, but I had to clean the windows in the bedroom, and we basically potter around getting the old place as clean as possible, or as clean as we could in the time we had. I don't think I did another solo run to the new place (like I said, it's all a bit of a blur at this point), but I know that eventually we'd done everything we could and then we just had to pack up the last of my stuff into both cars (the worst part was the two thirds of my clothes that hadn't gone in the mobile wardrobe box), leaving behind the cleaning stuff so we can come back tomorrow morning and finish up the last of the cleaning.

Of course unloading the cars at this end was almost harder than loading them up just because by that point we were both completely exhausted.

Now at some point during the day I did finally get around to plugging my phone in at the new place... only to discover that I had no dial tone. I could call the number from my mobile and it sounded like it was ringing, but nothing happened at this end. So counting utility companies, that's three out of four (if you count my ISP, which I do) that have somehow managed to screw me around somehow. I sent them a message in reply to one I'd received about the phone, so we'll have to see what comes of that. To be honest I'm not that bothered because nobody has the new number, so long as it doesn't delay my ADLS.

Once everything was in the apartment, it was a little bit like rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic... we did put everything away in the wardrobe and at some point I hung my Warwick Rowers calendar on a spare nail just so I'd have something on the wall. I have a lot of spare nails in these walls... more than I need, and none of them in any places that make sense to me to be perfectly honest. I'm also not sure how effective the Command hooks are going to be on these walls given the type of bricks that they are and that they're slightly textured... but I kind of thought that about the brickwork wall at the old place, so we'll see what happens later on.

We also moved everything that had been piled into the bedroom out of there so I could put the bed together, but while I was part way through that we both realised we were kind of starving again, but given that this is an entirely new side of town to me, I have no idea what the hell is actually around and what will be open late on a Saturday night... so it was Google to the rescue and eventually we found this place called Nonna's which was just down the road. Ma headed off to get food while I reconstructed my bed.

Turns out that Nonna's was a very good idea... I don't know if it was just because we were both exhausted and sore and a little delirious, but their burgers (Ma had the classic, I had the chicken schnitzel) were really, really good. I can see that being a good place to keep in our back pockets, especially since they make a whole ton of different stuff. Ma did say it wasn't the snazziest of places, but who cares when the food is good.

It was good to stop and relax, but the main problem with doing that is that when you stop you then have to get started again... and that's not fun.

I think it was around 9:30 or so when Ma left, and I pretty much just threw myself in the shower to wash the day's grime and sweat off. Now, I do have a theory that the first shower you take in any new apartment is generally better than sex... mostly because you're exhausted and it's just a sweet relief. I'm not sure if I'm going to go that far this time... however there was a hell of a lot of water, and it was appropriately hot as it should be, it's more that the shower cubicle is more of a shower square foot. Now I know that I said something similar when I first moved into the last house... but this makes that shower look palatial by comparison. There is literally no way at all that you could have two people in that shower, none at all. They really do need to gut the bathroom, lose the bath (and, for that matter, probably lose the door to the bathroom as well or replace it with a sliding door).

But at least I was all fresh and clean before I rolled into my freshly made (and constructed) bed.

So endeth Moving Day.

Sunday

I slept pretty well... I'm on a pretty major road, and there are trucks, so I think I may have been woken up by truck brakes at one point in the night. A lot of the road noise was drowned out by my little evaporative aircon though. And a lot of it is just getting used to the noises in a new place.

When I did finally get up, I just kind of stood and stared at the post moving carnage... boxes every damn where. So I pottered around moving some stuff around and piling the small moving boxes up into a giant stack by the bedroom door. This is definitely where I miss the additional space of the old place... I'm pretty sure I just piled up the boxes in the "dining area" and slowly worked my way through them over the first few days (I know I did use about four of them as a bedside table for a while there). There's not that much room here, so there's definitely been a lot of moving things from one side of the apartment to the other and then back again.

Also unlike last time, we lost the first half a day cleaning the old place instead of unpacking the new place.

Ma texted me to let me know she was on her way over to the old place, so I jumped in the shower, got ready and met her there. And again she'd brought Macca's. It's not like it was a surprise, both times we'd decided that was a plan ahead of time, but I do enjoy a Macca's breakfast, as junky as it is.

The rest of the morning was spent cleaning. We cleaned the dickens out of that apartment... it was way cleaner when we were finished than it was when I moved it, I can guarantee it. I wiped down the blinds, I cleaned out the aircon filter, I did all the things (okay, Ma also did many of the things that I wasn't doing).

We also ran into my neighbour across the balcony... well Ma was outside when she left her apartment, but I went out there as well. Weirdly though we've never really spoken the whole time since we said hello after I first moved in, and we've heard each other come and go (I've definitely heard her, so I'm guessing she heard me). So it was a little weird to have her sound genuinely sorry I was leaving. I'm guessing maybe because I don't have The Wild Parties™ that some of the other people in the building do, and I don't play The Loud Music™ (which she herself is guilty of from time to time). It was a pleasant chat, but a slightly weird one all things considered.

Then eventually we were done... as done as done can be. So we packed up our cars with the cleaning minutia and I said an interim farewell to the apartment... interim only because I have to go and meet the carpet cleaning guy there tomorrow morning at 9am (and then I drop the keys off to the agent right after).

I will say that I'd never actually seen the apartment looking like it did when we left it today. When I came to look at it originally there were random bits of left over furniture in it... and while they were gone when I moved in, there were still a few other bits and pieces that got left behind which I eventually gave back to the land agent, and as soon as I unlocked the door for the first time once it was mine the movers were bringing my stuff into the space.

I wasn't sad though... I haven't done sad yet. Maybe I won't... maybe I did enough sad before this point and I don't need to... maybe I just haven't had enough energy to be sad yet given how hard I've worked the last three days. Or maybe something completely unrelated will trigger it in a week or so (that could make for interesting Fringe show reactions), I have no idea...

But I locked the door for the second to last time and we climbed down all those damn stairs and headed back to my new apartment in our respective cars.

When we got back I wasn't really in the right headspace for unpacking... I still hate the kitchen storage, it's ludicrously put together... in fact the whole kitchen layout was clearly designed by someone who knows nothing about kitchens (and most of it comes from IKEA, so make of that what you will). But I did decide that what I really needed to do was try and a) work out exactly what additional stuff I needed and b) work out where I'm putting all my furniture.

But both A and B seemed to be part of a self-referencing spiral where one led to the other and I ended up in a world full of apathy. Eventually though we started moving boxes around, and then I was able to get to the phone jack, so I took some time out to call Telstra to try and get the faulty phone line fixed... the woman was actually very helpful (you know, for overseas call centre staff) and ran through a bunch of stuff at her end before organising for somebody to come out and look at it (which hopefully I won't have to be involved in).

Then I put the furniture where I thought it should probably go... then we moved three different items to about a dozen different locations before putting most of them back where they started.

We did toy around with taking a trip to IKEA, but it seemed slightly ahead of schedule since I don't really know what it is I want yet, whereas last time it was very obvious from the word go what I was missing.

Time was marching on though if we wanted to go anywhere, but as weird as it sounds I needed to stop and put the TV and DVD player together before we could do anything else, because I needed to know what I needed as far as an aerial cable was concerned. Because this place has an actual real live grown-up aerial on the roof. Granted, and not to skip ahead too much, I don't know if I wouldn't be better off sticking to the bunny ears given the lack of reception on a few channels, but I'll have to try retuning the whole TV and see what happens.

Once I'd worked it all out we headed off to Bunnings... there wasn't a lot I wanted, maybe three or four things, but it turned out to be a good trip. I got all those things, then we found a shelving unit by the same company who did the kitchen counter I bought for the old apartment... granted we initially saw a smaller, white version, but then I realised there was a metal version too. But the price tag was way too expensive for what it was and the same price as one that was almost twice as wide... so I grabbed one of the passing staff members and asked him if they were definitely the same price... he said they were, I explained that one was tiny and one wasn't, he said same price. I asked if it was because one was metal and one was white, he said no. I was going to give up at that stage, but I think to definitely shut me up (or else because he was now having doubts himself) he scanned the item I thought was the correct price, and it was that price... I then got him to scan the thing I actually wanted... BAM, about half the price.

So when I put it together I'm going to shove it in the corner of the apartment and have a groovy looking "open shelf pantry" going on... things in jars, cans of stuff, that kind of thing. Is it a bad idea? Who the hell knows... but it beats trying to put all of my stuff in the incredibly non-functional cupboards. And I'm happy to be rocking the Food Network vibe (I'm specifically thinking of Chopped, but the theory works for most of the shows) I'm guessing I may very well end up with a large number of empty shelves in the kitchen, but the cupboards just don't make any sense.

On the way back from Bunnings we realised we'd skipped lunch again and needed some real food, so we decided to head past my place and explore the neighbourhood beyond to see what was around. We ended up seeing a few potential ideas, but decided on pizza, mostly because we didn't want to go any further up the road and we'd pulled into the pizza place carpark to turn around.

Wasn't a bad choice to be honest. Wasn't the hottest (temperature wise) pizza ever and their garlic bread was a little average, but it wasn't bad.

After we'd eaten Ma headed off home with my most fervent thanks for everything she'd done all weekend long.


I then pottered around a little bit, took all the junk we'd piled on my bed earlier off, and settled down to unpack all my DVDs... which always takes longer than it should because I want them alphabetical on the shelf, but I've never pack them that way.

Now all my bruises and scrapes and I are going to bed, right after I have a quick shower I think...



Monday

I no longer live at Wellington Square.

This somehow became the official mantra for today... not as a way for me to hold off feeling the feels about leaving this place, but almost more as a touchstone to remind me that I'd done all my crying about leaving before the move and now I'm working from a place of... resignation I guess, that or acceptance.

It also made the annoying things that happened today somewhat easier to cope with.

I got up this morning, pottered around a bit, but to paraphrase what I tweeted, I knew I should be doing SOMETHING but there were too many possible somethings that I could be doing which meant that I really just ended up wandering in circles doing not much of anything.

But I had things to do and people to see fairly early, so I got dressed and headed back to the old place to meet the carpet cleaners. The one thing I didn't consider, Monday morning traffic on the route between the two places... I got there right on time, but it took twice as long as it has done every other run between the two places.

This is my first actual experience with carpet cleaners... I know we did it at the first place I lived in with Ludo, but he was there for the carpet cleaning, not me (I also don't really remember us cleaning that apartment very much when we left beyond the carpet cleaning). And when I left Childers Street I didn't bother since I knew they were just going to rip it all out anyway.

The downside was that because I was on the third floor they couldn't use the vehicle mounted system (I have no idea how that even would have worked), and instead used a freestanding unit. This also meant that there had to be two dudes to carry the unit up the stairs.

The upside... the carpet cleaning dudes were very hot. Like amateur porn star hot... one of them more than the other one, but that's always the way.

I swear that it took less time for them to clean the carpets than it ever took for me to vacuum them... but they are professionals. Also it was really obvious how dirty the carpets were when he got to the bit by the door... three shades lighter between cleaned and not cleaned.

Anyway, once they were done, I couldn't set foot inside, so I just locked the door and went for a wander to the North Adelaide Village to buy some Blutak (long story short, I needed to stick the final gas/hot water metre readings to the door and forgot to bring some), got that all squared away and called it a day.

While the thought at the top of this post really started happening when we left the old place on Saturday afternoon, and definitely kicked in when I arrived back on Sunday, it was the first thought I had when I unlocked the door on Monday morning, and the last thought when I took a last look through the kitchen window after sticking the readings to the door.

I knew that I needed to do some shopping, but first I had to drop the keys off at the old land agent, and after chatting with Ma on the phone I stopped off at Cibo to indulge in an affogato... because it's my jam. It was many a little bit too much caffeine though... I've drunk way too many coffee related products over the last week or so, and I think that may have been the final caffeinated straw. Must cut back.

From there I ended up heading back to Burnside Village to do the little bit of shopping I needed... it gave me the chance to scope out the local precinct. I don't really like shopping at Coles to be honest, but it's what's available... they do have some little stores that could be good for picking up dinner when I can't be bothered. And I went and introduced myself at the dry cleaners, mostly just to ask how much it was to clean pants. But they seem very friendly... which makes a change from the old dry cleaners who were really quite lovely once you wore them down but could be very brusque otherwise.

The final inspection of the old apartment was due at 2pm, and shortly after my old agent contacted me to say everything seemed good, but the oven needed cleaning properly and the cupboards needed to be vacuumed out. I'll give you the oven, but seriously, vacuuming out the tiny bits of fluff and crap that were in the cupboards, give me a break.

But I really want my bond back, so I proceeded to gather up a bunch of cleaning supplies and my vacuum cleaner and head back to their office to pick up the keys before spending a good hour and a half cleaning out the oven and the cupboards.

Yeah, the oven was grotty, and I should have checked it before we wrapped the house, or Ma should have told me to check it, but I didn't, she didn't, it just didn't happen. It may have been better if we'd been able to put the horrible toxic oven cleaner stuff on first thing Sunday morning and then clean out the oven as the last thing before we wrapped. Note to future self, use the fucking oven cleaner bullshit, that's why you bought it.

What actually happened is I sprayed it down, closed the oven, cleaned out all the cupboards then went to work on the oven... and when that didn't work completely just using the cloths I brought with me, I ended up scratching the spots off the door with my nails. Gross, but it got the job done. And also made me lament the fact that I'd cut my nails off earlier that day.

By the time I was finished I was sore, grubby, hungry and more than a little damp. But at least it was done.

And all the time I was there the phrase at the top of this post was forefront in my mind. It was no longer my oven, no longer my cupboards, no longer my apartment, no longer my home. No longer mine in any way.

Of course on the flip side of that the new place doesn't particularly feel like home. Part of that is due to the fact that I hadn't had the chance to unpack anything beyond the DVDs, and the place was crammed full of boxes.

So when I got home I ate the stuff I'd bought for lunch but never got to as an early dinner and then proceeded to start work on first putting together the pantry shelf, which looks pretty good I have to say, I'd like it if the slats on the shelves were closer together and I could probably do with at least two more shelves, but it'll do what I need it to... and then I started on unpacking the kitchen boxes, mostly so that I had stuff to put on the pantry shelves, but also so I can theoretically feed myself for the rest of the week.

Unlike last time where I just threw all of the crumpled newspaper into the giant armchair box and then Ma started uncrumpling it all so that it would take up much less room in the bin (although I did finish that off myself), I did that from the beginning... but that meant that everything took four times as long and I got to an almost pathological standard of handwashing to wash the ink off my hands every time I switched from newspaper to butchers paper.

But I managed to get three quarters of the kitchen boxes open... and about three quarters of that into its location. For the record, my kitchen cabinets are still beyond ridiculous and I hate them quite a lot. And the fact that there isn't a junk drawer... I mean c'mon, every kitchen needs a junk drawer... where else are you going to store all those annoying things that have no other home?

I also made sure that I unpacked the box containing all my breakfast supplies so that I can at least feed myself tomorrow morning before work.

Ah yes, returning to work, which will feel slightly like a holiday by comparison to the last four days.

Tuesday

Today I went back to work... which was something of a relief, but also meant that I left a mostly unpacked house when I could have been getting on with things.

It was also the first go at catching a new bus to work and walking home...

The bus ride, although three times as long as what I'm used to, was pleasant enough, it's not a very high traffic bus, so I think I'll always be assured of a seat which is nice, and the app I downloaded seems very reliable about bus times and locations, so I've been using that to make sure I'm on time.

Weirdly, the bus drops me on the northern side of the city, so I end up walking to work the way I used to walk home from work.

Work wasn't too bad, I will admit that I was slightly distracted by my own stuff at points, but it was good to think about something other than moving and to do something other than unpacking.

Also, it just so happened to be Shrove Tuesday, so around 10:30 we essentially emptied the office and went across the street to the church to get pancakes.

I was definitely interested to see how long it was going to take to walk home, Google Maps said an hour and six minutes or so, but I think I can probably improve on that... it's just that yesterday was a little too warm to really get crazy. Plus there's less shade than I would have preferred on that particular route.

It's also not a pretty walk... the southern side of the parklands is kind of crusty and always feels pretty dead, the pathway could be a problem as soon as it rains (partially dirt, which will turn to mud in about fifteen seconds).

But I did it with no ill effects. And to be honest, even though it took twice as long (and Google was mostly right, I think I shaved two or three minutes off the suggested time), it was all relatively flat compared with the major downhill and uphill sections of the walk to the old place.

I did feel like I lost some time to be honest... since I previously would have been home somewhere between 4:30 and 4:45, and this was just after 5.

I could have gotten straight into unpacking but I really needed a rest, so I sat down for a while, retuned the TV (everything works perfectly now, yay) and then got started on unpacking the remainder of the kitchen.

My plan was to have a simple dinner, but I realised part of the way through one of the boxes that I had no knives and no frypans... so trying to cook something was going to be problematic until I got to that point.

That led to me having dinner around 9:30 I think. Nothing fancy, but nice enough... and I finally got to fire up my new stove (and more importantly my new rangehood... no more smoke alarms going off for no reason). I really unpacked most of the stuff before I started putting a lot of it away, it was better to see what I was working with, and I'm still not sure that everything is in the best place (I pretty much said that last time and never moved anything around in the two years I was there, so I'm guessing it'll all stay like it is). I do know that all of the upper cupboards are essentially only half utilised... the top halves are just too damn high up.

At least the kitchen is both clear of boxes, everything seems to have it's place (other than the box and a half worth of junk drawer contents, since I don't quite know what to do with that due to the aforementioned lack of a junk drawer) and you can actually move around.

Granted that also means that the rest of the apartment is currently a giant pigpen where nothing is in it's correct place, but I'll get there.

Wednesday

I didn't have time to do much of anything house related today... it was work, then walking home, then Ma came down and we headed off to the city for some dinner and to see Welcome to Night Vale.

Thursday

Tonight I finally broke open the book boxes... laid everything out on the floor and went through the photos I took of each shelf at the old house to get most things back in the same place.

I did divert from the previous arrangement in a few places... partly because I had a few books that I hadn't put away properly by the time I moved, and also because I wanted to make the last bookcase less of a "this is where the crap stuff goes because it's just shoved in the corner" vibe that it had in both of my previous apartments. To that end, I put all of my Playstation gamesthere, and reorganised some stuff generally.

The last shelf is still a trainwreck... there are literal piles of books, since there's too much stuff to actually have it arranged properly. I need to revisit the way it's arranged once I make sure that I've actually got all of the books out of all of the boxes. I know there are at least three stragglers, and there could be a few more, we'll see how it goes.

It did feel slightly better to get the books in place. The problem now is that I really don't know what to do about all the tchotchkes... most of them are fine and will go back where they came from, but since I have all of my artwork wrapped up, and I won't be using the two console tables from the old house in the same way... not to mention the small bookcase... so, yeah, I'm undecided.

About so many things.

Friday

Today was another light day as far as house organisation is concerned... I had my chiro appointment after work, and then detoured first to Haighs and then to misbehave slightly, and didn't get home until about 7:30, so I basically confined myself to reorganising my wardrobe and putting everything in the bathroom cabinet. Both important and necessary jobs.

Part of the problem is that I really need some additional stuff before I can dig into the last few boxes and get things organised. And then there's still the matter of what the hell to do with all my art. It definitely seems that the third of an apartment I lose in the move was almost entirely artwork hanging space. It's not completely true, but it definitely feels like it's true.

Current Mood:

welcome to night vale

welcome to night vale
Welcome to Night Vale is "a podcast in the style of community updates for the small desert town of Night Vale, featuring local weather, news, announcements from the Sheriff's Secret Police, mysterious lights in the night sky, dark hooded figures with unknowable powers and cultural events".

Their live show is all of that and more, live and in person.

And yours truly had both front row seats and (without knowing it) a feature cameo.

The show started with The Rules, presented by the lovely Night Vale "Proverb Lady", Meg Bashwiner... to sum up, photos good, video/audio recording bad and Meg is the voice of your inner monologue which is why you're funnier in your head.

Next up was the musical guest/opener, Dessa. Now possibly due to our closeness to the stage some of the lyrics to her songs were hard to hear/understand, but I was generally impressed by her. If for no other reason than she had the whole crowd in the palm of her hand very quickly... and she was just the right amount of fun and quirky that Night Vale demands.

Then the Voice of Night Vale, Cecil Baldwin, took the stage and the show really kicked into gear.

Cecil really is the thing that makes the show... well the writing by show creators Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Cranor is key, but I couldn't imagine Night Vale without Cecil's dulcet tones and perfect delivery. And to get to see him do it live, with all the facial expressions you don't even consider he's making when you're just listening, made it all the more fun.

He doesn't have to carry the whole show alone, he was joined by various other Night Vale residents, first Deb the sentient patch of haze (aka Meg), then the adorable Dylan Marron as Carlos, resident Night Vale scientist and Cecil's in-show boyfriend... and who got to do a much funnier piece that he's usually confined to on the show (being mostly concerned with science, the Desert Otherworld and Cecil). Next up was Fink as one of the long running series of ill-fated radio station interns, who met an untimely demise (with a very impressive scream), followed by Cranor as a Secret Police spokesperson.

Running through the show was the story of a murderer on the loose and a murder mystery dinner theatre that all the people of Night Vale were compelled to attend by the aforementioned Secret Police.

As soon as the weather report was over (also known as another musical number from Dessa... Night Vale weather always takes the form of a piece of music and has nothing to do with actual weather) and Cecil was back to unmask the gruesome murderer.

And, spoilers... turns out it was me. By which I mean, I'm guessing that Cecil generally picks somebody from the front row as the murderer, and that just happened to be me this time around. So I had to stand up, gave a bow, had Cecil talk directly to me, got applauded by the audience, got pointed at by the audience and told not to do it again, then bowed and applauded again. It was a hell of a feeling to be honest.

It was a great show overall, both just from the perspective of being able to see the faces behind the voices (for example I had no idea that Marron was so cute or that Disparition was just one dude), but just feeling the great energy they all brought to the stage was fantastic.

I just wish it could have gone on even longer than it did. And that they come back again.

Current Mood:

leaving north adelaide

light pointercarclew tower
I feel like I should have put together a post like the one I made when I left my old apartment... a catalogue of thoughts and memories of the last two years and what-have-you. But I realised about midway through the week when I'd attempted to start said post at least twice that essentially it's not something I feel like I can write.

There are two main reasons... the first being that the last two years in this apartment are pretty much laid out in either my blog, my Twitter or my Instagram... highs, lows, annoying neighbours, food prepared, home decor experiments, finally having more art on the walls than sitting on the floor, breaking my thumb, putting my back out again... it's all already there. Or at least as much of it as I'm probably willing to share.

The second is mostly that I don't really feel like I've been in this apartment long enough to make really significant memories... it literally feels like yesterday that I was watching the moving guys carry boxes up the stairs while I stood around feeling vaguely useless. And on Saturday that happens again but in reverse.

The other part of that is that I feel no sense of excitement about this move. There's a sense of relief that I don't have to continue to look for somewhere and that I won't be homeless/have to go and stay with Ma when my time runs out (which would have been doubly annoying in that I would have had to pay for movers twice). But that's it...

east gate riderfive four three
I'm not happy about the move, I'm not excited to get to the new place, I'm even less excited to be setting up the new place which will mean having to buy more furniture. In fact this whole experience just involves me spending a whole bunch of money I don't want to spend to do something that isn't a positive step forward for me.

This also includes an unscheduled trip tomorrow morning to the mechanic since the brakes in my car have decided to be very, very, very spongy over the past week, and I'm going to need them a lot over the next month or so.

And yes, I know I sound like a Negative Nancy (plus I've said this all before, in a variety of ways)... and I may very well get over myself in a month or two, but I kinda doubt it. This is what it is for the period of time that it needs to be a thing, and then hopefully I get to move forward into something better and overall more suitable to my needs.

Given that I'm not sure when I lose my phone line and hence all my internet tomorrow, I figured I'd do a little bit of a recap of this week now, since the remainder of it will probably be covered by the moving in post once I finally get my internets back, hopefully by the end of next week.

shuttered windowsmedical windows
It's kind of a short round-up to be honest...

Sunday, after a whole day on Saturday of packing all my worldly possessions into boxes, Ma came back down and we spent the whole day packing more of my worldly possessions into boxes. By the end of the day we were at 35 boxes (including 5 boxes full of artworks), the kitchen cupboards were pretty empty beyond actual foodstuff I mostly didn't really need through this week and crockery to eat said foodstuffs, my wardrobe was just clothes plus my old laptop and the original 1970's platform shoes that used to belong to Raury and all that was left to pack was either the difficult/delicate stuff or the random stuff we just never got to. I did manage to pack a box on Tuesday night, but my heart wasn't really in it. That's what tomorrow is for to be honest. And Saturday morning before the movers show up.

I continued to unofficially catalogue "lasts" in my head all week too... the last time I'll hear rain cascading from the guttering next door and making that noisy but satisfying "tin roof" noise on my place... the last time I'll make soup in this apartment (very successful potato, leek, bacon and cheese soup for the record)... the last time I'll get laid in this apartment (last Sunday evening)... the last time I'll catch that particular bus to work and walk home in that particular direction... and the last time I'll drive that specific route to get to Tink's place to get my hair did.

Which brings me nicely around to earlier this evening when I did in fact head to Tink's place to get my hair did.

morning treessilver spaceship
It was pretty much a semi-standard visit... the only main difference was that because we're still dealing with the fallout from my blue hair (and the fact that the colour we covered it with gave off a vaguely green hue in certain light) we couldn't just go back to my regular colour.

Instead we went with some foils and some gentler bleach, so it's got a lot of colour variation going on, which is nice. And according to Tink we can go back to the usual colour next time.

Other than that we generally just talked about random things as we usually do... with my housing/moving trials and tribulations being the main discussion point.

So this is pretty much where I'm going to leave this post... and come Saturday, this apartment. I've loved my time here (or at the very least my minor niggles have dramatically been overshadowed by everything that was great about this place), I'm legitimately more sad to leave this place than I have been any other place I've lived. It came along at exactly the right time and saved me from a very, very different and probably much less enjoyable couple of years.

Goodbye little house... and I'll see the rest of you on the flipside once I'm all moved in to the new place.

Current Mood:

a very packing saturday

keep calm and start packing
My life feels so fucking weird right now... No, scratch that, my life is so fucking weird right now. But at least I have some degree of forward momentum.

Rolling the clock back to last Sunday though, I did a little more packing and decided that although I'd said I was going to have the Monday off from work, I needed to go into work to scan the two applications I wanted to send off for apartments.

Essentially I stuck around work until about 1pm and almost everything I did was related to either applying for apartments or looking for new ones.

A definite case of soz/not soz to be honest.

Then I had two additional places I wanted to look at on Monday afternoon... before I headed off to the first one though, the agent for one of the Saturday places called me to check something on my application and to say that she was pretty sure it was going to be accepted.

You would think that would be great news, right?

Except I couldn't remember if it had an airconditioner, and neither the photos nor the text description mentioned it. What I should have done was call her back right away and ask.

That's not what I did, and I'm still kicking myself for that.

Instead I went to the other two places, one felt very out of my league (and to be honest had too much damn space for my needs), the other was a little shabby chic and definitely very 1930's in origin so the layout was ridiculous. But it could have been workable. The location was both great and not perfect, but it was looking like a front runner.

Then, driving back home I got a call from the other agent (which I didn't take, because driving)... which turned into a text message telling me I'd been accepted for the last place we looked at on Saturday.

And that's when I had a little bit of a meltdown. If it didn't have air-con, I definitely didn't want it... if it did I was still unsure about it. It's further from the city than I really would have liked, and there's definitely a number of storage issues (as part of the ongoing feeling I have where I want to beat all architects who design one bedroom apartments with a very large stick and explain to them exactly what is required in terms of both storage and just space in general)... but it has some advantages... plus it's the only place I'd been accepted for at that point.

So I spend the whole of the Australia Day holiday freaking the fuck out to greater or lesser degrees, including a very long phone call with Ma in the morning where I think I pretty much had the meltdown that I should have had as soon as they told me I had to leave here.

I also packed a couple more boxes, did some reorganising and did what I've done for most of the week to avoid disappearing inside my own brain, watch an excessive number of Buzzfeed videos. Which is definitely easy because there's a metric fuckton of them.

Come Wednesday morning, I was emotionally exhausted, so much so that after going to bed at 11pm, I woke up briefly at 3am and my brain refused to let me go back to sleep... eventually I just gave up on trying and picked up my phone and distracted myself with that until it was time to get up and go to work. When I got to work I put in the application for the shabby chic place and tried to work out what to tell the other agent when I called her back.

Turns out she called me first.

So I started the call with "err, problem, no air-con"... she responded with "nah, herpa-derp, air-con"... and I asked if I could call her back in ten minutes.

I nearly just said I'd take it, but I just needed to talk it through with somebody first. Ma was that somebody... lucky Ma. And all of this took place in the front foyer at work, fortunately without crying, wailing and gnashing of teeth which had accompanied the phone call on Tuesday.

Eventually after we'd been pretty much over much of the same ground as we had on that previous call, she finally said, quite quietly "Just take the apartment". It was the perfect thing for her to say at that moment, as it would have done one of two things, either I agree with her and I have my answer or I disagree with her and still have my answer.

Turns out I agreed with her. In fact, I'd been about to say the same thing just as she said it.

So I called the agent back and accepted the apartment. I move in next Saturday. Two years and a month to the day of moving in here.

I'll be completely honest, I'm seeing this as a stepping-stone arrangement. What I would really love to do is buy an apartment, but that takes like money and stuff, so that's going to have to wait, especially since I don't know what's going on with work after the middle of this year.

My general issues with the place as it stands are the lack of storage space, its distance from the city (which I think is going to be the ongoing sore point) and some few other minor niggles that can mostly be solved by a couple of trips to IKEA.

In the plus column, it doesn't have a west facing anything, which is new and different as far as places I've lived in are concerned, and it also has wooden floors, so I don't have to worry about a) dark sock fluff on light tan carpets, b) mystery marks on light tan carpets and c) having to get the carpets steam cleaned when I move out. Also it's nice and close to the shops at Burnside (closer than I currently am to the Village here in North Adelaide to be honest), so that's going to be useful. Especially as there is both a Bendigo Bank and a post office in the complex.

Once I finally said yes it was a matter of starting all the other arrangements that need to happen when you move house. And you always forget just how fucking expensive all those little things are. Forget the big stuff of the bond and the two weeks rent and the cost of actual moving men. Stuff like disconnecting and reconnecting your phone, gas and electricity... and that shit comes with a cost. Cleaning the carpets is fucking expensive (but better than not getting the bond back), even rolls of bubblewrap are expensive given what they actually are.

And that's even before I have to buy some kind of storage solutions for my clothes... or the kitchen.

I also lost the majority of Thursday morning at work to making a ton of phone calls to organise the utilities and internets and whatnot. It's so weird that even in the two years since I moved into this place that some of that stuff has gotten more complicated. Or else there's just something about this particular move that has attracted a general level of complication to it.

Like the fact that for the first time since I moved out of home I'll have a different landline number. Sure there was about six months between moving to Golden Grove with Ludo and then moving into Lownee's old place, but when I came back to North Adelaide, I was actually able to get the same phone number back... and I've had it ever since. Now I have some random collection of numbers for the new place, which will take me forever to memorise since I never give it to people anyway.

On the upside, since I made the decision to take the apartment I haven't wanted to burst randomly into tears for seemingly no particular reason. And my appetite has returned which is good, but has also meant that I ended up buying random take-out several nights this week.

I will miss the take-out opportunities in North Adelaide, even though I usually tend to go to the same two or three places.

But, getting back to this week...

By the time Friday rolled around I'd packed up seventeen boxes, mostly the small ones full of DVDs and books and stuff... and they've started to take over the far corner of the living room.

This morning Ma was off to get her hair did first thing, so I was on my own for shopping... and it didn't seem that there was much point in getting a ton of things given that I'd just have to pack them all up again by the end of the week, so I kept it pretty casual... although I decided that I was slightly bored with salads, so I'm going to make a batch of potato and leek soup for lunches this week.

On the plus side, because I probably don't need as much as I'm going to end up making, I'll have some for dinners as well. I'm also planning on overloading it with a lot of the cheese rinds that I've been shoving in the freezer for the last few months.

And it'll be nice and cathartic... and also the very last pot of soup I ever make in this apartment. I feel like there's going to be a lot of that this week... "this is the last X, I'll X in this apartment". Like the Australia Day fireworks... last fireworks I'm going to see from that bedroom window.

When Ma came down I kind of burbled a bunch of information at her and then we took a quick trip to Bunnings to pick up some more packing tape (and some FRAGILE tape, because the stickers they give you never last long enough)... and if I'd known then how the day was going to progress, I would have picked up a big roll of bubblewrap then.

I was also on the lookout for a similar portable counter to the one I bought when I first moved in here (as seen in these photos), but it looks like the company who made it doesn't even make anything similar any more. I didn't see anything slightly similar either, which is a little annoying... but I may have to first see how much stuff I can actually get into my new kitchen cupboards and figure out what I actually need from there.

Then we headed back here, and started packing things up... we were supposed to be packing up the stuff from the kitchen that I wasn't going to need between now and the move, but I was trying to attack something else first and Ma started wrapping up the artwork I'd moved to make room for boxes, so that kind of turned into a thing.

Did I have a metric fuckton of artwork last time I moved? Yes, yes I did. Did I have as much artwork as I do now? No... there's a whole bunch of posters and things I put into the really cheap and simple IKEA frames while I've been here... and I had at least half a dozen things professionally framed. And it took me varying degrees of time to get things on the walls... some of it was fairly quick after I moved in, other things took a while before I got them how I wanted them (and they progressed even after those photos were taken).

But as long as it took to get everything up on the walls, taking it all down and pulling all the Command hooks off the wall (with not a single casualty... although there were a couple of the little tiny ones that I ended up having to pull off the wall when the tabs broke... they came off clean though) took a little over an hour. And left me with a bag full of plastic and metal. Plus an apartment with bare walls that it now undeniably the apartment of somebody who's moving out.

While I was pulling hooks off the wall, Ma continued to wrap the artwork, then at a certain point I pulled a bunch of stuff out of the top kitchen cupboards... pantry stuff, most of my tea gear, that kind of thing... and basically just spread it all over the kitchen counter as stuff that needed to be put away.

Then I went to attack the wardrobe... and if there was ever an indication that I have a serious problem when it comes to both underwear and socks, it would be the fact that I literally threw away a giant bag full of both that I never wear anymore and which had been relegated to just taking up space in the bottom of the wardrobe.

Yeah, I know, there is definitely going to be some serious sorting of shit once I get to the new place (yeah, again, I know, it's better to throw stuff out before you go, but I really don't know how much space I'm going to end up with, so it's going to have to be after).

Around that point we headed out to grab some lunch and a giant roll of bubblewrap from the Bunnings in Kent Town. Note to myself... the Bunnings in Kent Town is tiny and has a really shitty car park, don't go there again.

On the way back to stopped off at the Bakery for assorted pies and whatnot, then back here for more packing...

In the end we only really packed four boxes, however that doesn't include the three boxes that are full of bundled up artworks... I just haven't sealed them or given then an official number (yeah, again, I know... I'm just keeping track of things in the notes on my phone so I don't have to write a bunch of stuff on the tops of the boxes). I also don't know if I'm going to let the movers move them or do what I did last time and move anything that I'm a little twitchy about by myself.

So Ma is coming back down tomorrow to help me finish off some more of the packing... then I have next Friday off to finish things up and pick off the keys to the new place, then Saturday the movers show up in the afternoon.

Like last time I'll be offline from when I move until I get internet reconnected, and hopefully that will only take about five days like last time (although given that I kept the same number last time, who the fuck knows this time). I'm also not sure exactly when they're going to cut off the phone here... I think it may end up being Friday morning, so that'll suck slightly for keeping myself entertained Friday evening.

So yeah, it's all really happening... and in roughly the same frame as last time.

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lego minifigures series 15

lego minifigures series 15
I think this is the first time that I've actually blogged the line-up for a series of minifigures AFTER I've bought the set.

Part of the problem was that I couldn't find the usual graphic anywhere... which is the same problem I had with the last series to be honest(turns out I kept looking on the USA version of the Lego website not the UK version).

The line-up for the fifteenth series (and the eighteenth overall) is:
  • Wrestling Champion
  • Janitor
  • Kendo Fighter
  • Jewel Thief
  • Astronaut
  • Flying Warrior
  • Tribal Woman
  • Laser Mech
  • Farmer
  • Ballerina
  • Faun
  • Queen
  • Shark Suit Guy
  • Frightening Knight
  • Clumsy Guy
  • Animal Control Officer
My absolute favourite from this set is the Faun... he has a unique set of legs and an adorable set of horns and ears attached to his hair. I'm also quite fond of the Jewel Thief, the Shark Suit Guy and the Ballerina. The Queen is also pretty amazing since it's the first time we've seen a skirt like that... and she matches the King from Series 13 perfectly.

I was also surprised to see that there are two very large animal pieces, the pig and the skunk. And is it just me or does the farmer look a hell of a lot like Steve Jobs?

As far as I understand, the Tribal Woman is the first instance of a Lego baby and she's also the first female Native American we've had in the minifig collection.

I kinda wish they'd gone all the way with the Flying Warrior and just made his face and arms gold too... I don't mind him though with his eagle helmet and wings.

As for the ones I'm not that bothered by... well, that's essentially the Laser Mech (do we really need another "mech"?), the Janitor and the Animal Control Officer... her skunk is cool, but she's a bit bland overall.

For the usual detailed look at the series, take a look at White Fang's review over at Eurobricks.

Rumour has it that the next series is going to be Disney themed or at least that there's a Disney series coming, so that'll be interesting... granted if they go with the moulded heads like The Simpsons I could be less interested, but I'm looking forward to seeing what/who they come up with.

Personally I'm hoping for a Lilo and a Stitch and as many of the villainesses that they want to cram in there. Given that they've already got a mould for the bottom half of a genie, I can pretty much guarantee there will be Genie from Aladdin though.

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photo saturday: beach shapes

red shorts and spotsbarbed dog

fish rocksblue flounders

yellow boardyellow rays

rusted punkhat runner
My life happens to, on occasion, suck beyond the telling of it. Sometimes more than I can handle.
Buffy Summers, Buffy The Vampire Slayer - Earshot
It's not really surprising, but the speed at which I went from cautious optimism to flat out panic on Friday was slightly breathtaking...

But I'm getting a little ahead of myself.

After last weekend's "fun and games" I spent a little time on both Saturday night and Sunday putting stuff into boxes, but gave up after around three... partly because I just couldn't summon up the energy to do any more. It wasn't actually until Friday night that I picked up the big roll of sticky tape and shoved more of my life into tiny cardboard boxes.

Tuesday night I went to see another apartment in Kent Town... and I'm pretty sure it was designed by the same architect as my old place... it had the same textured ceiling, same window designs... although the up side was that this had been renovated in the last couple of years so it had a brand new kitchen, a shiny bathroom and polished concrete floors.

But than I had the dilemma that I wanted that place over the place I looked at last Thursday, but it was a case of waiting to hear from them before the first place called me.

In the end I shouldn't have been so concerned because I had to call both of them myself, only to find out that I hadn't been successful in either application. Which was pretty much the point on Friday where my optimism turned to panic. I will say that I'm glad we weren't that busy at work because I spent the majority of my afternoon looking through the rental listings and trying to find something in the right price range in something that could be considered the right location and roughly the size I need it to be.

For the purposes of Friday's search, "the right location" had to be stretched more than I would otherwise have liked... but I still came up with a few places to look at over the next week.

I also happened across a number of ads relating to my old apartment block. I saw the first one by accident, and legitimately wheeled my chair away from the computer so that I wouldn't be tempted to click on it. As I think I said last week I didn't want anything to do with the old place... like breaking up with somebody and not wanting to know if they're happy or miserable or anything at all... you just want to remember them as the broken down wreck they were when you left them.

But the thumbnail image on the ad made me so very curious that in the end I had to look... and to go back to the ex analogy, it's like dating somebody who was the aforementioned broken down wreck and then seeing them after they've had some ill-advised plastic surgery, put on 20kg of muscles and gotten a number of pretty but pointless tattoos.

Essentially, I can't get my head around what the hell they've done to the places, but I do know that whoever the architect was, they were clearly a moron. Cutting down windows from being essentially a whole wall to being a tiny slit a couple of feet tall, and rearranging the layout in ways that don't make the least bit of sense. Well, I'm not saying the layouts are bad... however I lived in that apartment block for seventeen years and I could not make the least bit of sense out of a number of the layouts... the bathrooms generally made sense, as it would have been too damn hard to move all the plumbing, so the showers, sinks and toilets all look to be in exactly the same locations, but it's all clearly brand spanking new and otherwise completely confusing.

And I know that what I was paying at the time was much, much less than what the going rental rate should have been, but they're now wanting to charge three times the rent for apartments that appear to have 10% of the light they used to have. But they have a dishwasher, so that's something I guess.

Would I consider going back there, I hear you ask... in a word, fuck no. Firstly even with the renovations there is no way in the world that they're worth the rent they're asking for them. Secondly depending on what they hell they've done to the layout when you're there in person, I don't know that they would necessarily feel any bigger than they did when I lived there. Which definitely means that they're over-charging.

The only up side seems to be that they're being sold off individually, so my previous useless excuse for both a human being and a landlord doesn't have his grubby little fingers anywhere near them... possibly. Maybe he's kept a couple to rent out and is selling off all the others, I don't know. I certainly hope not, for the sake of the people moving in there.

I even finally, after over two years, went down my old street this morning and parked outside the apartment block to see it all in the flesh. We didn't get out of the car, but I just wanted to break myself of that particular habit or superstition or self imposed ban on even looking down that particular street when we drive past. It does help that I think the majority of the changes made to the place are blatantly ridiculous and while they look good in photos, they won't add to the overall living conditions of anybody who moves in there.

But again, that could be the ex thing again... where it doesn't matter what your ex does to make themselves pretty, you always assume that they're not going to be as happy with their new beau.

Yeah, I know, I've spend too much fucking time thinking about this.

Moving right along...

Partly because this week has been hot (and more importantly very humid, which is always much, much worse) and I still haven't completely regained my pre-eviction appetite (which isn't necessarily a disaster), so dinners this week have either been non-existant or else mostly involved carbs... or carbs and protein.

And mostly it was haphazardly thrown together stuff at the last minute. So hopefully I can manage something better this week.

Which pretty much brings us around to today...

Today was mostly about running from place to place to looking at potential apartments. It started in the usual way, with a somewhat meagre shopping excursion (seriously, I barely bought anything at all beyond some stuff to make salads and fruit to make a smoothie tomorrow).

Then the first apartment was only a couple of streets away, and we walked over to check it out. It was definitely the most heavily visited open inspection we went to all day... and while I'll probably put in an application, the best thing it had going for it was the location.

From there we headed out to Ashford to a place that was pretty large, but essentially in the middle of the wasteland as far as I'm concerned. Could I cope, probably, but yeah, it would be a definite adjustment. There was only one other guy who showed up for that one... wearing the weirdest pair of red and blue sunglasses... like one lens was red, one was blue, like old school 3D glasses, but he was walking around in the world wearing them... weird as hell.

Lastly was one near Burnside, and as we had a little time to kill we wandered around the Burnside Shopping Centre until it was time to go and see the apartment. It was decidedly 1950's... possibly 60's and had a couple of really weird details, but the kitchen was brand new and very pretty. There was only one other couple there while I was there, but we did see another couple who looked like they were about twelve headed that was as we left.

Interestingly, of the three locations, the one out in the wasteland is the only one that seems to be using the default rental application. And it's the only one that won't require the usual 100 points of ID... again, weird. Not a single one of the applications from today was the same as any of the others.

From there we headed down Greenhill Road and stopped off at Haighs briefly, which could be an occupational hazard if I happened to get that apartment.

And then we headed over to Galaxy Toys so I could pick up the latest series of Lego minifigures. I'd seen them in Target this morning, and started going through the box but I just couldn't be bothered to be honest... clearly I'm out of practice after the last few series. As always when heading into Galaxy Toys it tends to end up being a pretty short, sharp and shiny visit. Walk in, have brief amusing conversation about the pop culture teeshirt I was wearing, indicate I want the whole series of minifigs, pay for minifigs, leave.

Ma and I stopped off briefly at Big W for no real reason other than we were in the neighbourhood... only to discover that their air-conditioning wasn't working for some reason, so we didn't really hang around, we just grabbed a sausage sizzle from out the front and then came back here.

In theory I have Monday off from work, although I think I may end up going in, at least in the morning, in order to put these applications in, and to be honest, while I still need to pack up a bunch of stuff, I know that I'll be able to do that in very short order once I actually have a moving date. And a lot of that would be kitchen stuff anyway that I wouldn't really want to pack until the very end.

I thought there were some open inspections on during the day on Monday, but the first one is around 4:30, so the day is pretty much all mine.

We'll see how I feel when Monday rolls around.

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photo saturday: making faces

angry tin tiki facesad wood face
I'm sick of talking about having to move. I'm sick of telling the same story about the last move, my current apartment, the old apartment or whatever new apartment I may have looked at to multiple people. I'm sick of feeling like I'm going to throw up. I'm sick of being on the very edge of breaking down into the ugly cry three times a day. And breaking into the ugly cry if I spent too much time looking around my apartment.

And with the utmost respect to everyone who has been supportive and very clearly on my side, I'm sick of hearing that it's going to be okay. Yes, I'm being overly dramatic about this whole thing given the many much worse things that go on in the world on a daily basis, but you honestly have no factual basis for the statement that everything will work out. You're being positive, and trying to help me stay positive, I completely understand that. But that's not how I feel, and even if I do find somewhere new, it's not going to be here, which is, minor niggles notwithstanding, pretty much as perfect a set of walls, doors and floors as I could have found.

I'm also sick of people who own the places I rent being assholes of one type or another. I'm sick of people who own more than one house trying to understand how I feel. And I'm sick of everything that's in my price range and in the locations I want to live being minuscule... or at least seeming that way in photos.

Mostly I'm sick of my life right now. I should be playing too much Assassin's Creed on the PS4 and being excited about the start of the Fringe, not looking at a pile of folded up moving boxes and not being able to even thing about eating because both my heart and my stomach have taken up permanent residency in my throat. And I don't give a shit about much of anything beyond what I absolutely need to do to get through the day.

And at the end of the day I'm sick of myself for being the person who feels the things in the last four paragraphs.

So, with as minimal fuss as possible... here are the facts as I know them.

My lease expires on February 6. The owners have given me until February 20 to move out. They won't allow me to move out before February 6 without paying rent for the additional time, even though the place is going to be vacant while they make whatever alterations they need to make.

I attended inspections for three different apartments last week. One was a tiny dogbox which was obviously designed by an architect who was a thundering moron (there's more of that than you would expect, particularly in places that were clearly designed, I'm guessing, between the 60's and the 80's). The second was in a block which I can see from the bedroom window of my current apartment (which would be a bad idea, since I would be able to see this place from that place and that would be horrible for my ongoing mental health... I won't even look at the street my previous apartment was on, let alone go down the street). The third is in a gorgeous 1940's art deco apartment block, which is everything I love in the world, however it's kind of grotty in places and the kitchen was very obviously designed by a man who had never set foot in a kitchen in his life. It's not a kitchen, it's a passageway.

However, for all the reasons that aren't the kitchen and the fact that I need to be out of here as soon as I can be, I put an application in for the deco place. I'm hoping that my memory of the kitchen is worse than it actually is in person, or that I can find ways to work around it.

I also have two issues in relation to rental applications... the first is that I believe that I don't look like a good applicant on paper. Single man living alone, doesn't have a permanent source of income... I'm pretty convinced that the only reason I got this place is because the land agent felt sorry for me (and I think the place had been on the market for a little too long) when I explained my whole situation to him (also I feel like there may have been a small element of the Pink Mafia at play, but I have no hard proof of that).

The other is that I don't know how to lie... well that's not true, I can lie my ass off, but my default setting is to tell at least my version of the truth. I remember when Ludo and I first moved in together, we lied our asses off on the application... but that was much more about him than it was about me. So the things that don't look good on paper, I don't know how to "creative accounting" them.

Also the fact that there isn't one standard application across all agents is kind of annoying.

So even putting the application in didn't make me feel any better. And I feel like even if they accept the application and I get it, I'm taking a step down or backwards... or down and backwards... while paying even more rent.

It feels like no matter what place I get I'm going to have to chose any two out of enough space, the right location and the right price.

Anyway, after I put in the application yesterday I rang the moving company... which, yes, feels like putting the cart before the horse as my grandmother was fond of saying... but I wanted the ability to start packing now... partly so I feel like I'm actually doing something and partly so that when I do have somewhere I can move in as quickly as the time allows.

And thankfully the moving company said that I can adjust the moving in date... which helps when you book a move without an address to go to or a date to move.

When the guy from the moving firm rocked up (fortunately just after Ma did this morning), it turns out he was the cute one who moved me in here in the first place. And he remembered me as well, which was nice.

Otherwise today was singularly uneventful... he delivered the boxes, we did the usual shopping (although it turns out I hardly bought anything, due to still having a ton of stuff due to the aforementioned lack of appetite) then came back here to wait for the guy the owner had organised to come and measure up the windows. Now I thought that he was going to measure up all the windows... but no, he'd been through with the owner earlier in the week but hadn't measured the toilet window. Firstly who the fuck needs window treatments on the tiny, high up, frosted window on a third story toilet... and secondly, why the fuck couldn't I just have called the dude and measured it while on the phone to him. But no, I had to waste almost an hour of my Saturday morning waiting for him.

Then after he left, we headed into Arndale briefly, literally wandered around and then came back. Granted that may have been what we had done anyway in the alternate universe where I'm not being thrown out of my apartment, but it wasn't really any fun given the mood I'm in.

Oh, in mostly totally unrelated news, I went to see Tink on Thursday night after the two open inspections... and because I now need serious grown-up hair for serious grown-up business (like signing rental agreements and charming real estate agents and the like... I won't lie, I wore a hat to the two opens so that my blue hair wasn't the first and only impression they had of me), I now have dark brown hair.

The downside is that it doesn't look anywhere as natural as the colour we usually make it... and I think it's throwing a little bit of green given it's hiding the blue. But it will do for now.

And that's about it really... sorry for all the venting... it's not even as though it's made me feel all that much better.

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