Moved In, At Last

Though my mind feels like this weekend passed in a flash, my feet tell me it didn't. They are like two blocks of wood at the end of my ankles, and the black patches on their bottoms tell me that I need to start Swiffering the hardwood floors. Stat.

It's Sunday evening, and we are fully moved into our new apartment. Although we still are picking out footpaths around the piles of boxes, at least half of our stuff is already unpacked. As soon as we finish, I'll post photos. But let's start at the beginning...Friday night, our last day in Maryland.

Friday Night
After spending the entire day finishing up the packing, wrapping furniture and picking up the truck from UHaul, I spent the majority of the evening worrying about if all our crap would fit into a 17' truck. I was seriously doubtful. Adam was completely confident, as per usual. My folks even came by to scope out the vehicle, too. My Dad was seriously doubtful. My Mom was completely confident, as per usual. We ate dinner at Nora's, and spent the night sleeping* on our already wrapped up mattress.

*Meaning not sleeping, at all.

Saturday
Were we prepared for the onslaught of crazy that came on that Saturday morn? No. But did we survive? Sort of. Adam and I starting carrying boxes down to the parking lot around 7, and the AAA movers arrived promptly at 8, followed by my parents shortly after. I bit my nails as I watched box after box go into the truck, praying that it would all fit. Meanwhile, we transferred the fish into their traveling aquarium (Styrofoam) and drugged the cats (loopy pills). After two hours, by some miracle, all of our worldly goods were in Sacajawea (our truck). How they managed to do it, I have no idea. But we all breathed a sigh of relief, and suddenly it was time to go. Leaving Mom and Dad was difficult, but I knew I would see them all the time, and so it wasn't so bad. And so, followed by Sacajawea, Adam and I left Ellicott City and took to the road!

The trip was quick and painless, taking only 4 hours. The calmness in the car was only occasionally disturbed by Callie's yowling in between naps. By the time we arrived in Brooklyn, our New York movers, Frank and Carlos, were already waiting for us, along with Rosa, who welcomed us and gave us the keys. While we were waiting for the truck to arrive, I went in search of her to ask a question. Thinking she lived on the first floor, I knocked.

A man's voice said, "Who's there?"

Caught off guard, I cleverly answered, "Uhhhh...."

The door opened before I could say anything else and a young guy in dreadlocks, a towel, and nothing else was standing there. "I'm sorry," I said, "I thought Rosa lived here."

"Oh, no she-" Before he could finish, an enormous white and grey cat waltzed out of the door and started walking down the hall, "Oh damn."

"I'll get him," I said helpfully, and scurried after him.

After I returned the cat, the guy's wife informed me that Rosa in fact lived on the bottom floor, not the first. Later the guy (now dressed) came and introduced himself, and even offered to help! And that's how I met our first neighbor!

So, back to moving...the first thing to come out of the truck was Clifford, the big red couch. As soon as I heard the bonking noises and loud expletives coming from the hallway (in two languages as well!), I knew Clifford was going to be a problem. The thin New York stairways were proving to be a difficulty, and visions of that episode of Friends where Ross breaks his new couch in half started wafting into my head. After nearly 15 minutes of grunting and more expletives, I was starting to think we wouldn't make it, but somehow (another miracle!) Clifford made it through. Scuffed and molested yes, but in one piece. That was the hardest part of unloading, really, and aside from the blistering heat and sore, aching muscles, it was delightful!

Around 5 'o clock, we were done. The apartment was unwalkable, but everything was in it. Frank and Carlos walked off into the sunset, and Adam and I surveyed the damage. I immediately went to check out the cats, who had been languishing in the bathroom while we were unloading. The drug still hadn't fully worn off, plus, they were scared out of their wits. I looked in the bathroom for them, but couldn't find them. Carlos had used it and left the door open, but I thought I had closed the doors to the apartment...I started searching, and became increasingly more freaked out as they were nowhere to be found. Adam looked too, but to no avail. At this point, I started panicking. Like really panicking. Adam ran out to look in the street, saying, "Where would they go? They're too scared to leave!" Hyperventilating, I went back in the bathroom again, and realized there was a closet behind the door that reached all the way up to the ceiling. There, on the very top shelf above my head, were Callie and Hobbes, still half drugged. I called Adam back and then threw up everywhere (not really). "They have no idea how much they scared us," he said.

Whew! Heart attacks are fun. So, the first thing to do was to return the truck. Thinking it would be quick and easy (but really, what is?), we headed to Park Slope and quickly realized that every person in New York City had also chosen that moment to return their truck to UHaul. Yay!

By the time we got back home, the only thing we wanted to do was take a shower. After about 20 minutes, we found towels, and were able to do so. Bliss. We quit unpacking around 11 and collapsed in bed after the longest day in existence. We did it.

Sunday
A much shorter story, and a more relaxing one. After a good bit of unpacking in the early morning, I decided we should be completely awesome and have brunch in Manhattan. So I found a little italian place called 'ino and met up with our groovy friend Vicki. We all had delicious panino's (mine was sweet coppa, hot peppers, and...boy, that's a sexy sandwich!) with tea and juice, crowded together at a small table as the late morning breeze blew through the open door.

After that we decided to hunt down a Home Depot for some sundries, and found one on 23rd. It was hard to miss. We had found the Taj Mahal of Hardware, complete with ionic columns, sculptured doorways, mannequins (ostensibly doing yardwork) and an interior that looked like Ikea on major bling. I felt underdressed. Seriously.

By this time poor Adam was dragging-- he hadn't been up to snuff all weekend, what with all the heavy labor-- so we headed home. I remember a few young black guys coming onto the subway at some point carrying bongos, and busting out with some beats while we traveled to the next stop. This, I thought, is what New York is all about.

After some napping and more hard work, we decided more food was in order and left to discover something fun in Brooklyn nearby. We ended up in a place called Brooklyn Moon, which featured an "Anti-Bush Menu," served until 6, for only $5. The menu included a little manifesto about it, and how the Bush Administration screwed everybody since 9-11, causing New Yorkers to lose jobs, security, money...and so the Brooklyn Moon swooped in to save everyone with their cheap, delicious meal. We missed it, sadly, but the crabcake I had (goat cheese, plaintain and tomato) was excellent. As was the alcoholic beverage we both consumed. A "Dear John," it was called. I had wanted to try the "Pink Sexy," but simply couldn't get up the courage to ask for it.

We were both pleasantly buzzed by the time we left, but that was somewhat dampened by the tsunami that ensued as we walked to the subway. Nope, no umbrella. By the time we got back, we were soaked. A hot shower helped. Bed helped even more. The next day Adam had to return to Maryland, and I had to start my internship at DK. No sleep for the weary...