|some of the best friends ever.|
(the others are inside, cleaning)
my move across town--by and large--went much smoother than i'd anticipated. when i moved from provo, i had my mom helping me box things up for a few days and then a priceless team of devoted friends working all day and late into the night to load the truck and clean the place.
here, i had a few friends from church and school who politely told me to let them know when i was moving and they'd help if they could. and i had about four days to do it all, in between when school ended and when i had to be out of apt. 585.
we finished our animation on friday and i was home that afternoon, feeling the joy of being done with it all and having something i was proud of. i was going to sit down that evening and watch a movie, then begin packing on saturday, continue on monday, and hopefully start moving the big stuff on tuesday and be out of there by wednesday. then one of my new roommates called me.
"hey, i've got my truck and richard's got his and i've got brad bringing a trailer tomorrow and we're all ready to move you out of there tomorrow and we're not going to let you move by yourself."
i explained that i was really impressed that he was so willing to help out, but that i hadn't packed anything yet and that i didn't know how much i would be able to have done by the next day, but that we'd do what we could. due to person shortcomings, when i woke up on saturday morning, i still hadn't packed a box (although, to be fair, there were still a good half dozen boxes of apparently useless stuff that i hadn't gotten around to unpacking in the first place, so i had that going for me....)
my friend jess from school came over that afternoon and together we started throwing things in boxes, making sure to clear off my desk and bookshelves, so that the big things could be taken care of.
my new roommates showed up later in the afternoon and we loaded their trucks to the brim. then they cheerfully offered to unload my stuff at the house while i stayed back at the apartment and continued to pack.
this continued throughout the evening, with large chunks of my apartment and associated furniture literally disappearing faster than i could pack it. my bed, love seat, couch, tv, dvd shelves, zombie shotgun: everything was gone. by 10:00 that night, my apartment was empty, with the exception of a dirty floor, some non-essentials in the bathroom, and most of my kitchen, which i could transport by myself without too much difficulty.
what was a little odd about this whole scenario was that my things were all at my new house before i'd ever seen it. i loaded up my backpack with my toothbrush, some soap, and a few other odds and ends and headed to the address that had been post-it noted to my dest for the last few months.
i'm moving into a house with three other guys from church. because i was willing to pay a little more each month (and about half of what i was paying at my apartment), i got the master bedroom. with a master bathroom. hello.... : )
they had loaded all of my things in the garage so that there would be space in my room to navigate as i was setting up (more considerate than i would have thought of...), yet had put my bed, my dresser, and the pieces of my desk in there. the house was spacious (my biggest fear was that all of my stuff wouldn't fit, but that's definitely not a concern), and seeing my room partially set up made me feel very welcome from my first minute there.
i really don't like moving. i moved once during my four years of college, and that was after my first semester. i moved once after graduation and stayed there for five years. the very nature of packing your material life into manageable pieces to be shipped somewhere else lends itself to self-introspection and reflection on the state of you.
my move from utah had been a very bittersweet time, mingled emotions of sadness for leaving so many beloved people behind, the nervousness of the unknown ahead, and deep gratitude and happiness for all the time and devotion friends showed me at my literal final hours in town. i knew that my move across college station wouldn't be nearly as memorable and had mostly been worried of simply how i would pull it off.
it had gone better and smoother than i could have ever hoped for, and to arrive at my new place with my room set up enough that i could get started meant a whole dang lot to me. i had had a lot on my mind that day and i went to sleep that night feeling soothed.
...except that it took me two days to find the little bag of screws that held my desk together. this was particularly perplexing because a) my desk is kind of the centerpiece around which my room is built and b) i had kept that darn baggie out to be carried with me personally just so this very thing wouldn't happen.
|this is actually from when i moved|
in last summer, because i wasn't
taking pictures while moving out.
once grad school started, i had time for none of that. the apartment was fine, but it was where i've lived during some the most challenging times of my life. i suspect i will view it similarly to how i look at roman gardens, the complex where i lived during my first semester in utah: it was fine and it got me through, but with no real sweet memories there. i guess that's not entirely accurate for 585; there have been some good times there, but i was rarely in love with my life there.
just as moving to centennial brought me some of the best years of my life, i'm looking forward to the new world of life here. and, unlike last summer, i've got two and a half weeks here to unpack, move in, and decorate; to make it mine. if nothing else, i can turn my head around right now and see my own private bath, dang it. ; )