The first of what will not be many because I am lazy

Well, I decided that since on the occasion I blog on the myspace, I should get a blog of my very own. Well, I guess the blog on myspace is a blog of my very own. But, you know what I mean. Who "you" is, I do not know because I am pretty sure no one will read this. But, you never know. There is that "you" again. I shall just state that henceforth I will use you a bunch of times, and there is no reason for me to explain that I am a dork who will use you to address probably no one.
Okay, enough of that rambling mess. Now to the important stuff.

Moving! I just did it. I hate it. I think I hate it more than anyone in the world. I have moved so many times that it isn't even funny. I have moved a lot. So many times, that I should be a pro by now.

Nederland to Shreveport
Shreveport to Scotter
Scotter to Ashland
Ashland to Dell Dale
Dell Dale (or is it Dale Dell) to Welbeck
Welbeck to Strick Lane
Strick Lane to Woodforest
Woodforest to Pittsburg #1
Pittsburg #1 to Pittsburg #2
Pittsburg #2 to Pittsburg #3
Pittsburg #3 to Woodward
Woodward to Pleasant Valley
Pleasant Valley to Royal Crest
Royal Crest to Aptos
Aptos to San Fran # 1
San Fran #1 to San Fran #2
San Fran #2 to San Fran #3
San Fran #3 to Huntwick
Huntwick to Fairmount
Fairmount to Fairlawn
Fairlawn to 37th St #1
37th St #1 to 37th St #2
37th St #2 to new place

(some of those are streets whilst some of them are towns)

Okay, that is 24 times. I have moved all my possessions (along with all of the possessions of many others) 24 times. I am 32. That's a lot. And, I might be missing one or two. I feel like I am. But, I will go with 24 times at this point.

And, seeing that I have moved this many times, you would think I would be an expert. I am a semi-expert. I can pack the shit out of some boxes. And, once I get going there is no stopping me. But, I do things in a weird way. I pack tons of stuff way to early. I have an off time gauge for packing. Like I take stuff off the walls to soon, so it makes the whole place desolate and echoey. Then I pack up all the plates. So, we got nothing to eat off of. Just odd things liket hat.

Then, for some reason, I always decide I need to throw tons of crap away. And in deciding to do so, I start a gigantic pile in the middle of the living room. And that pile grows and grows. And that pile starts to get in the way of the rest of the packing and moving. And that pile starts getting caught on people's feet and begins to get strewn across the apartment. Papers get stuck to your feet. I kick that stupid old piece of "art" that I found in a dumpster across the living room where it settles under the coffee table. The pile starts getting huge. The pile then aquires things I don't want to throw away...one of my Converse, a Schneider toy or eight, a drum stick. So, it just turns out to be a big pile of crap in that takes over the whole living room! Yay!

And, I have decided that I am grown up enough now to consistently dust my house. As a youth, my mother had this insane obsession with dusting. And, it was my job to dust. I dusted everything that had even the slightest bit of wood on it. Every frame, couch arm thingy, table, cabinet (for which we had millions), everything! I had to bust out the Pledge, spray it down, and wipe it with a rag. I hated it. And, because of that, I have had an aversion to dusting (well, that and my overwhelming need to be lazy). But after several (24) moves filled with incredibly dusty entertainment centers, hutches, and book shelves, I have decided that I will dust. Hell, even the back of my recliner was dusty. No one sits in it, so that went unnoticed until I lugged the damn thing across the room. So, I think I will take on a grown up responsibility and just start dusting. I see why my mother was so insistent on it. I must say that in that instance, my mother was right (not so much with the nose ring being a phase) I also know that she didn't do it herself. I did! This is one reason to have children. So they can clean for you.

I have also decided that I will never move again until I buy a house! Never. Now, I have said this before. But, I mean it this time. Okay, I may not be buying, but I will not move again until I can afford movers. I thought about it this time and decided against it. I didn't regret it until about 20 minutes after we started loading up. Then I decided not hiring movers was the stupidest thing I have ever decided not to do! But, thanks to great boyfriend and friend (and some other random movers), everything got loaded and unpacked in a timely manner. But, it still sucked. It was 290380293898 degrees and later it started raining. So, next time, when I move into the house I am buying, I will hire movers. Of course, I have said this in the last 11 of my moves. So, I probably will not. But, I am going to say I am.

But, now we are in the new place. It fucking rocks. It is so cute. So 1973. So me! It has a rock wall! A rock wall, people! Do you know how long I have been looking for a rock wall? Well, I haven't specifically. But, now that I have one, I freaking love it! It is the cutest house ever! And I live there. Well, me and the mister live there. Oh, and the weiner. Did I forget to tell you about the triangular windows? Well, it has them. And they are so cute. They are to die for! Here is the front of it...



It kind of looks from the front like a dentist office. And, oh how I love that!

Now it is all down to the unpacking. I suspect that things will stay in boxes for some time. Not a super long time because I get a bit anal about that kind of thing. But, for at least a couple of days. But, we have a porch and a yard and a BBQ grill and a whole lot of room! Heck we have a whole music room. I'm no musician, but a room complete with a drum kit, guitar, electric drums, a harmonica, a squeeze box (that's my contribution), a mixer, a computer filled with a whole lot of cool recording software makes me feel like I am (hey, no one rob us, okay). I swear, having a musician boyfriend is a whole lot of fun.

Well, that's enough of my babble for now. Moving is such a moving subject. Oh, look how witty I am!

Later