Moving is always always brutal. I might be very capable of dealing with a lot of things, but i have complete paralysis when i have to pack. So Saturday was spent staring at my room too overwhelmed to do anything. And then on Sunday, two of my dear friends came by and helped me run through the room and pack everything. On Monday, movers were supposed to arrive at 9AM. I called to confirm. They never showed. These were the same Irish men i used two years ago and recommended to all of my friends – i was *pissed*.

So we started calling around, trying to find a mover desperately. Random Chinese men from Fremont came through. They arrived at noon and started bitching immediately. Oh, so much stuff, too large couches, etc. ::groan:: I couldn’t even be around their negative energy and screaming, even though i had no idea what they were saying. We got to the new place and they were awful from the get go. Ugg… terrible stairs, impossible… everything was impossible. They moved so slowly and clearly didn’t have either the muscles or endurance to carry this stuff. They only moved things that went on the dolly. And then came the couches. Oh, the couches. Bitch moan. Our landlord came home and they were able to go through his apartment with the small one. It was a nightmare – everything was awful and they complained nonstop.

Finally, before we got the large one, we told them to go home. We paid them and they asked for a tip. I glared at them and said, no, i still have a large couch to move. One of my dear friends was over and he kept declaring positive attitude, we need positive attitude. Somehow, we roped my landlord into helping.

And there we were – me, my roommate, my friend and our landlord – four queers trying to move a couch. What a site! We went through the garage, around the stairs, under a tree, over the wooden frame, up three flights, into the kitchen, over the banister, through the living room. Of course, it took most of an hour. But we did it. We kicked ass and we got that couch in the living room. Needless to stay, i was strongly told that i would have to take it out in pieces or it would have to be a permanent item.. No one loves my couches as much as i do. And oh do i love them.

And then there were the cats. Marbellio sat and cowered at the bottom of the stairs until 2AM when she got curious about the boxes. Theo thought everything was utterly fascinating and romped around looking for play toys.

All and all, i’m moved into a new swank home in Mission Dolores and ready to be in a neighborhood with cafes, queers and food. My beloved neighbor already made me dinner to welcome me to the hood. I walked to Safeway to buy a shower curtain (which they don’t sell) and i ran into two friends. I’m sooo going to love living here. Yippee.

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7 thoughts on “moving

  1. John Poisson

    The small couch-shaped bruise on my forehead serves only to remind me of the power of positive attitude.

    Glad to have you kids in the neighborhood.

  2. todd x

    well, there is a lotta great eatin’ here. Check out Yammo’s at 18th and Mission. Don’t believe the negative Nellie’s and Thomas Doubter’s out there that have given unfavorable reviews because it is now a vegetarian Thai diner. The food rocks. Right around the corner on Mission is Minako organic Japanese cuisine that happens to have an extensive vegan menu.


    Good luck with you presentations!

  3. barb dybwad

    Having recently moved myself, I got a kick out of this post, thanks. 🙂 Several piecies of furniture played the “couch” role in my tale as well, and several items left behind by the previous owners are just going to have to wait until spring before I can even start thinking about the logistics of removing them… 🙂

    nothing like moving to make you appreciate the basic joy/privilege of having a place to hang your hat. nothing like moving to provide opportunity for deconstructing/reconstructing one’s life. enjoy the new digs and the process!

  4. Irina

    heheh I am going to miss coming to visit at the huge house in the Mission! Can I use your account of moving for my little collection of moving anecdotes?
    I love moving as a topic of research, I absolutely hate it as an activity hmmm what does that say about my research?? 🙂

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