Saturday, August 27, 2005


Have I ever told you guys how much AU blows? Just a few, twenty times. Good news! Not only do they have one of the worst administrations at the law school, charging the price of a small home for their crap-ass, rude services while they teeter between first and second tier, making the resale of my education as worthless as the faux-papyrus the degree is printed on, but now - god I love this - the President of AU has been accused of embezzling my tuition.

I expect nothing less from AU. No wonder I'm in the poorhouse, you scumbag.

Friday, August 26, 2005

I'm going to be a small claims court veteran.

I'll start with the good news of the day:

1) We're catching someone's wireless on the second floor of our house. Woo! Free internet! I won't have to go cold turkey until the DSL arrives!
2) My temp agency called and said I'm confirmed for the upcoming job, which means I'll have a steady paycheck for the next few months.
3) Our house rocks. And I've already met the owners of the take-out joint next door. Apparently the barrel we've been throwing trash in is actually theirs. They told us we could call waste management to get our own barrel for $150 a month (!), or, if we weren't total hogs, we were more than welcome to use theirs. Nice, right? It seems the whole block knows each other, so that should be kind of fun. A big change from my big sterile apartment building where no one spoke.

The bad news of the day:
1) Despite all of the above, this was quite possibly one of the worst days of my life. I will never ever, EVER hire movers. Ever. Fucking assholes took no less than TEN hours to move 1.5 bedrooms of stuff 1.5 miles to one house. Ten! I knew in the back of my head this was a bad idea, I just knew it. The first half-hour went pretty speedy, because I was sitting in my studio watching them. Then Quinn arrived so he could take some more fragile things in his car, so we were busy with that, and going across the street to get a table from a friend who's moving. An hour later I take a look and almost NOTHING has happened. It took them two full hours to load my meager belongings onto the truck, but that's light-speed compared to the rest of the day.

They arrived at C's around noon. I followed to get the house keys from C so I could go wait for the DirecTV man. Hours pass. DirecTV man shows up around 2pm and says he needs the television sets to finish, but he can go ahead and set up the dish while we wait. I call C, who says they're moving like f'ing snails, but all they have left are the two small loveseats. So I tell DirecTV man that it should be about half an hour. Um. Right.

Now it's three o'clock. Now it's four o'clock. C finally calls and says the movers left fifteen minutes ago and he's headed off to the airport for his bro's wedding. (We had assumed initially that we'd have a chance to actually unpack some boxes and arrange furniture before he had to leave at 4pm. Oops.)

Like I mentioned above, my new house is, at the most, two miles from our apartments. It took Quinn and I ten minutes to drive it, and we didn't even really know how to get there (I'm terrible at directions, and Quinn hadn't been to the house yet). After a half-hour, I call Starving Students and get a full voicemail box, so I call the corporate office and get a guy who says he'll find the right person and make sure he calls me. Forty-five minutes pass and T, who arrived a bit earlier with the dog, yelled from the window, "There they are!" And there they go, right by the house. Twice. We live near the corner, and five minutes later we saw them drive down the cross-street. I finally run out and find them parked a block from the apartment, the driver (who was a fucking asshole to begin with) nowhere to be seen, and the other guy literally passed out in the passenger seat. I slapped him three times on the arm before he woke up. I'm probably lucky he didn't pull a gun on me. I said, "What the hell are you doing??" Driver-man appears, holding an Icee from 7-11 and says he can't find our house. Frustration ensues as I point to our house, and ten more minutes pass before they can drive around the block and park.

I know this is getting long, and it only gets worse from here on out. T and I did a ton of work, including moving the couches inside and moving almost all the heavy boxes from the dining room to the upstairs bedrooms. C's queen box springs wouldn't fit up the stairs, so they just threw the rest of the bed furniture in the living room until I told them to at least bring the mattresses up stairs. Driver-man dropped a very heavy piece of furniture on the front step, literally smashing the new plaster into pieces. I took a picture for the record. And then, like I said, finally finished at 8pm.

They couldn't get ahold of their boss to say they finished (I'm shocked) and so I took this opportunity to say, as nicely as I could muster, "Well actually that's fine for now, because I need to talk to him about the length of this move. I know an 'estimate' is just that, an estimate, but this took three times as long." Wherein, Driver-man BLOWS his shit, and starts telling me how my friend (C) had "way more stuff" than they thought, which is bullshit for a number of reasons, and how they never took a break or had lunch, and on and on. Then he grabbed the payment forms that were laying out and said, "just take it up in small claims court, I don't need this shit!" For the record, I never lost my cool, and was actually very pleased he decided to leave without forcing me to pay; I was really worried they were going to sit in my living room and call the cops if I did that. In fact, I actually never refused to pay, this guy was just fucking crazy from start to finish.

I'm sure his boss is going to call me tomorrow and I hope he's reasonable. I'm willing to pay for about four hours of work, but no way in HELL am I paying for ten (plus the hour "trip" charge and a percentage for gas/maintenance, plus cost for shrink-wrap, etc). Those fuckers would dissappear for 45 minutes at a time, supposedly loading the dollies. C caught them more than a few times chatting on their cell phones, immediately hanging up when C appeared. Fuck that. It all made for an incredibly stressful day. And we don't even have any box springs to sleep on!

I'm done, I just really had to rant. I've felt like I was going to have a coronary all day, and I'm so fucking tired because I didn't get any sleep last night. At least I can get online. I hope tomorrow I'll be able to calm down and focus on perspective: I have a cool house and a job. I'm off to bed, and then off to clean my old apt tomorrow. The fun never ends!

Wednesday, August 24, 2005

It's go time.

The movers are scheduled to arrive between 8am-1pm tomorrow, which means I've reached the point of no return with packing. The coffee maker is packed, the TV is unplugged and the DVD and VCR players are boxed up, the stereo is unplugged and queued to be boxed, and the wireless internet base and cable modem are next in line. The good news is that Verizon is coming tomorrow afternoon to set up our new DirecTV dish; the bad news is that, for some horrible reason I cannot fathom, the DSL modem won't arrive for two more weeks, which means I will be offline until then! Ahhh!! Can. Not. Deal. So, probably no updates from me for awhile.

Some more good news, the temp agency called yesterday and says they may have a job lined up for me starting the second week in September, and may last until December. This is great news for me, since I'll be able to pay my bills and even better, I'll know whether or not I passed the bar by then and I'll have time to search for a job that I actually want. Technically the client still has to approve my resume for this job, but it's a paralegal-type gig and my guy on the ground says with my experience it should be no problem. Keep your fingers crossed.

More good news. I kissed a straight man and a gay man last night. No, not at the same time. Yes, both in front of the other. I'll leave the rest to your imaginations. Be as dirty as you like. (Oh, I may have been incredibly intoxicated, but for the record, the gay man initiated. And the straight man was Irish, like visiting from Ireland Irish...or at least that's what he said!) Also, a tip for you: drinking a lot before you go out in an attempt not to waste your money on $7 beers at the bar never works.

I'm a little verklempt at saying goodbye to the old hood. Cleveland Park has been good to me, but it's time to move to a neighborhood with some personality. So, CP, farewell, it's unlikely I'll be back to soak up your culture very often. I'm a Green Liner now.

Since C is leaving tomorrow night to go to his brother's wedding, T has decided to stay in the house with me 1) so I won't be all alone and 2) to take care of the dog. The dog, Chase, has serious separation anxiety issues (he will try to bite anyone who attempts to leave the premises), and I think if he and I were alone in a new environment with both his daddy's missing, he would FREAK OUT for days until C returned and we'd get evicted before the week was out. I went over to C and T's this evening for a little while and Chase only tried to bite me once, when I got between him and the Evil Washing Machine From Hell That Eats Dogs. Which reminds me, the new house has a washing machine/dryer (yes!!) but no dishwasher (boo!). I'm okay with the trade off.

Alright, I better sign off. Keep my DSL modem in your prayers, for a speedy journey.

Monday, August 22, 2005

Verdict's in:

I have a lot of shit.

It's starting to get a little sad in my apartment, now that I've started taking down the wall hangings. You know, it took me almost a year to decorate. I moved mid-1L and couldn't be bothered fishing out the hammer and nails, until my friend came over sometime during the summer and ranted about how much my white walls depressed her. Since then I've accumulated tons of photos and "art," including three fantastic white antiqued shelves I bought and installed myself. That's going to be fun to re-do in my new bedroom.

Also, a tip from me to you: Don't nail anything through wallpaper in your rented apartment. You will regret it when it comes time to move.

Sunday, August 21, 2005

I like my shih tzu crocheted.

I saw a peek into my new life tonight. My soon-to-be roommate C, his current roommate T, and I rented a car today to do furniture shopping. When T called me last week to tell me he wanted to hit up IKEA and that we should rent an SUV to pick up tons of furniture, I told him it was a bad idea. None of us had officially moved yet (T is moving to NYC to sell his soul to BigFirm), and C and I still had no clear idea of what we'd need in the new house. My warnings ignored, we drove the Cadillac Rendezvous to Maryland at 8:30am (uuuuugh!) and weaved in and out of the Swedish furniture, filling the SUV to the brim with...two coffee mugs. Yeah. We found zip, zilch, nada. At least, nothing we were comfortable buying quite yet. Did I say, "I told you so" on the way home? Hell yes I did.

So, in seeming retribution for my always-being-rightness, T decided we needed to find Every Single Furniture Store Within Fifty Miles of DC, because we had to justify the SUV somehow, and only rampant consumerism would do. T needs a couch and thought he'd found a decent one that was originally marked at the low-low price of $2399, but on sale for $1600, which he somehow thought he could negotiate down to $700. Yeah. As he was sitting on this couch, testing its comfortableness, it's does-it-let-me-slouch-ness, it's is-this-chocolate-brown-or-poo-brown-ness, I suddenly saw, quite possibly, THE best thing I've ever seen EVER. An otherwise smallish, homely throw pillow was nestled against the far end. And I quickly realized that OH MY GOD IT WAS THE MOST AWESOME PILLOW EVER.

Damn. It only went downhill from there. We went to some shithole called "Danker" - and really, is any place named Danker going to be filled with hot modern furnishings? Not likely. The showroom clearly hadn't been updated since 1972. There was a lot of stuff that seemed like it must belong to some "era" (you know, Art Deco, Victorian, Contemporary, whatever), but it...really didn't. It was fake-personality furniture. If I was invited to someone's house and saw a piece of this furniture laid out, I would immediately realize that he or she had no personality but was desperately trying to convince others they had one. Like a sorority girl in a trucker hat. Like the girl-next-door in a leather bustier. Almost unsuprisingly, this store, more than any other furniture store we visited, had numerous people - always by themselves - cornering commissioned employees and asking earnestly about this particular piece that spoke to them. It's so unique. I must have it!

We finally gave up around 6:30 (that's around ten hours, if you're counting) after a trip to Target, where C and I made our only satisfying purchase of the day (an ironing board and a box of Reduced Fat Wheat Thins). After a quick nap and a shower, we hit up a Thai place near our new house. I've already shared with Roonie our pee story for the night. I gotta ask - when you order chicken, don't you expect it to be a somewhat healthy dish? Even if you weren't ordering for that reason, you expect a chicken breast, right? I ordered the Mandarin Orange Chicken with Honey Sauce and got a plate of rice (REALLY good super-sticky rice, tinted blue) with four chicken legs - fried. Not what I expected, but it was wicked good anyway. We also had some kick-ass pumpkin empanadas for an appetizer.

After dinner, since we still had the car, we drove by the new house to see the nightlife. I gotta say, it was a whole different feeling. I've been excited about this move - mostly because the last three years have been really hard on me, not just school, but for a lot of reasons, and I'm more than welcoming the change. We signed the lease a few days ago, but not until tonight did I really feel like, "This is going to be SO GREAT." There are tons of jazz clubs nearby, so we'll get a more local feel than we have in the sheltered Van Ness/Cleveland Park areas where we currently live. It really seemed like a city; it was midnight and there were tons of people out - but not in an Adams-Morgan-Barely-Legal-Where's-My-Beer-Bong kind of way. It was an adult, urban kind of way, and I just totally dug it.

I am psyched. Let's move!!

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