February 6th, 2006

SW - F.U. Artoo

What a Mongolian Clusterfuck.

Gotta love that title.

Well, ladies and gentlemen, here I am again. I am now sitting in my apartment in Beaverton, going through boxes and realizing I need more shelving. But that's not want's interesting about the last couple of days. No, my friends, it's the shitstorm that surrounded my move. Would you like to hear the tale? Of course you would. But, I'll bulletpoint it, in order, to make it easier on my list-making self.

  1. The assistant manager of the LaSalle apartments, where I'm moving, take three weeks to get all the neccessary paperwork to me. I recieve it on Saturday, the 28th. I am not amused, given that I have to have Renters Insurance and power set up by then or no keys. Thanks.
  2. Packed my brain on Tuesday, obviously, given that I started getting real stupid around then.
  3. Despite pruning, donating and throwing things the fuck away, I was unable to pack completely before moving. I have a decent chunk o' shit left in my apartment in Seattle. I will have to return to clean anyway, so I will pick it up then.
  4. Comcast fails to cancel my service on Friday. Probably too busy with connects for Sunday's game.
  5. My parents order the U-Haul. They get a call the day before the move, informing them that, while they scheduled a mid-morning pickup, the earliest they can offer is noon.
  6. The weather down is a nightmare. Huge torrents of rain and/or hail are intersperced with high winds and periods of utter calm and dryness. It was utterly insane.
  7. Forget my checkbook. Oops. Stop off at three locations before I'm finally able to buy a money order for the alarm fee.
  8. We arrive at the complex and... It's not the right one. I made a mistake. You see, there's two complexes, both built at the same time, both managed by the same company, both with the same layouts. One is built like apartments, the other like condos. Condos are quieter, sturdier, and more decked out. Instead of Center Pointe, the condo-like place, I get into LaSalle. Oops. Oh well. CP was $50 more a month, anyway.
  9. We pull in at six PM. I've left an email stating we'd be in between three and six. Well, it's six, and the leasing office is CLOSED.
  10. There's no on-site managers available to let me sign my lease, take my money, and let us get unpacking.
  11. My father has misplaced the lock. My mother runs off to buy another, while my father and I stew in our displeasure.
  12. My parents are forced to put me up in a hotel. I am not amused.
  13. I eat my first meal of the day.
  14. I miss my friend Steve's birthday celebration because I don't know how to get from hotel to his place, and back, via TriMet. Not from the hotel, anyway.
  15. I sleep like crap, worrying about my belongings.
  16. Sunday, noon, we arrive at LaSalle. Well, despite having Renters Insurance and power hooked up... NO KEYS! Yes! Not because of anything on my part, no, it's because THEY FUCKING LOST THEM.
  17. An hour goes by while we unload the truck. The maintenance guy and one of the leasing guys runs back and forth from the office, trying every key under the sun to open the door. Eventually, just before they decide to drill the lock and call it good, they find it.
  18. They found the key between the couch cushions in the office. Priceless.
  19. The Seahawks get raped in Super Bowl XL. Not by the Steelers, but by the officials. We lost a couple of TDs due to incompetence with the black and whites. Still, as much as it pains me, I like the Steelers, and I think it's a fitting way for the Bus to go.
  20. I find that I've forgotten to pack a few needed items... The shower curtain rings, for example. Run over to the K-Mart in time to see them close.
  21. I'm hungry, so I decide to head into Portland proper to check for a restaurant. EVERYTHING'S CLOSED. IT'S NINE PM. Oh, but it's Sunday. WTF.
  22. I return, and decide to head to IHOP. I walk for an hour, finally reaching the place to find... It's closed. I'm so used to a 24/7 IHOP in Seattle that I've forgotten it's not as common as I thought.
  23. I drop my phone, scratching it up. Q_Q
  24. I have a banana for dinner.
  25. Sleep on the floor. Bed's got crap all over it, decide floor is the better place.
  26. Wake up with a neck pain so bad I think I'm gonna hurl. A hot bath, a ThermaCare heat wrap, some naproxen sodium and a turkey and cheese sammich, and I only somewhat ache.
  27. Comcast guy comes in JUUUST before he'd be late. Hooks up the digital box, and sets me up with a self-install net package. The net then takes two hours to set up because my subscriptions in Seattle haven't been CANCELLED. Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, over. And, yes, those two hours were spent on the phone.

Good times had by all, no? No. But there are still good points...

  • I'm an Oregonian again.
  • My father has retired. Hopefully, my nightmares can stop.← BIG ONE! WOO!
  • I have 250 more square feet to pack with crap.
  • The unit downstairs is the demo. Which means quiet. And, if necessary, I can enact revenge when they show it. *STOMPSTOMPSTOMP*
  • I am fifty feet from a heated swimming pool and a fitness center.

So, anyway. Yeah. People in the Portland Metro area, feel free and give me a ring. My number is still a 206 area code, with the numbers 334 following that, and ending with a 9776.

tarx, lemmie know what your schedule's like next week.
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