And I’m moving out

At least I think I am – although considering that this is my first day not making a trip to Hoboken it’s almost hard to believe that I now live in a new town. Fortunately Hoboken will always be there… well, maybe not forever, but at least as long as I need it to be. And that will be awhile, because it truly was my second home. I lived in the same house my entire life growing up. When it came time for college, I split my time between PA and Hoboken. And since them, it’s been just ‘Boken. So at the ripe age of 27 (rapidly going on 28, gulp!), I am moving into only my third town. But even more than just being the only other place I’ve ever lived in, the Mile Square City was also the center of my most formative years – my traversal from being a boy to… a man… of sorts.

Beyond the city itseld, however, the truly difficult process has been letting go of my apartment. Only my second residence after college, I never expected to find myself still there 4 years later. The longest running tenent of the complex, I know all of the sordid secrets and all of the ridiculous benefits of our little haven. And now, they are no longer mine. There was a sliver of hope that Brian would take over a new lease and keep it amongst friends. But he’s smarter than that, and is most certainly enjoying the beginning of his brief stay in Bridgewater. Nevertheless, that apartment took me from my early twenties to my late twenties, and had its hands in everything in between. But that’s for another day, let’s talk about the hells of moving instead…

Lisa has kindly put up with my overly laidback manner throughout this whole process, because she knows that, although I may not move as quickly as she desires, I also am not likely to lose it over any of the minor tragedies that will occur during a move. Forget minor, we could have dropped my 32″ Wega and watched it burst into flames and barely seen more than a chuckle out of me. I let video games and stupid drivers who RIDE THE DAMN LEFT LANE bare the brunt of my aggression so that cooler heads may prevel where and when it counts.

Last Sunday (the 25th) was a prime example. As we debated the moving of many large pieces of furniture and people worried about how to fit a 6’6″ armoire into the new location, I simply pushed forward to get it done. In the end, the process that day was rather easy. Sure we lifted a lot of heavy objects, but the behemoth that is that very solid “entertainment center” moved out of Hoboken and into Montclair far more easily than it did during our original traversal across town. Most of that move went smoothly, even thought it was just Lisa, myself, Brian, and Sean (Lisa’s cousin). But the big stuff was just the beginning, afterall you can enumerate that. The rest of the week would be dedicated to all of those possessions you completely forget about until you are forced to pack them away (“Why the hell do I have so many candles and ways to light them?”).

Everyday last week I found myself loading my car up in Hoboken, driving out to Montclair, unloading the car, and finally heading to work. Tiring does not begin to describe the process. Sleep was not even close to being the answer. There is a point you reach when staring at the ceiling is your only course of action because you are still mentally awake, yet physically unable to move. That would be me up until Saturday – the “final” move out date. I use those cute little marks around the word final to draw your attention to the fact that it really wasn’t the final date. Imagine if you would me standing in front of you and reading this aloud. At that moment in the story, I would form bunny ears with the pointer and middle fingers of each hand and scrunch them down in an exagerated motion as if to say “I’m pretending to be subtle, but have lost the capacity to do such. Therefore please note that this word is used surreptitiously.” In case you haven’t caught on, I’m still moving.

I still afirm my position that Saturday would not have been so horrible if not for Ryder. Brian rented a truck from them, only they had no truck. Not sure how a truck rental place does business that way, but it’s their decision. What made matters worse was the 2 hour wait to find this out and that all other facilities were booked, too. Add to that, they offer us a van (which would have been enough) and then can’t find the keys. Yup, you read that right. There was a van right outside the door, and they didn’t have keys to it. They finally located one for us in Elizabeth, but the workers there wouldn’t answer the phone and, if not for some speedy driving on my part, we almost didn’t even get to pick that one up. But this still left us about 4 hours behind the originally intended schedule.

I won’t bother going into that much more detail, since I’ve already bored myself and I can’t even imagine what you’re going through. The rest of the day was a fairly slow progress in which we got rid of the remaining furniture without a home, then filled up car after car after car after van. By the time we reached Montclair, we had lost track of hunger (well, at least Lisa and I got to snack at my landlords’ cookout). With the added delay of Mark and Mike having to swing by Hoboken before heading to Bridgewater (check out a map of NJ if you don’t understand the problem with that), we really weren’t even moving Brian’s main stuff until after 9pm. That killed our dinner plans (and of course those for Sandy’s party). In the end, Lisa and I found ourselves back in Hoboken at around midnight to load up my car with the guinea pigs and our new birdie. And then again Sunday morning, Monday evening, and Tuesday evening we were back at the old places taking care of “last minute” business (once again, note the dancing bunny ears of subtlety). And yet there remains one piece of furniture at ye olde humble abode. I guess I just can’t let go.

I was hoping to do this earlier in the day so that I could get around to other updates, including The Village and a reunion with an old friend, but they will have to wait. Still no cable modem until Sunday, and no phone line until Tuesday so I can’t even fall back on another free AOL account. Hopefully tomorrow I’ll have the time before happy hour!

2 thoughts on “And I’m moving out”

  1. That’s ok, I’m pretty bad myself. Now that I’m actually out of Hoboken, however, I’m hoping to keep more in touch with everybody.

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