Unpacking

I unpacked glasses in my new kitchen today singing, "It's so hard to say goodbye to yesterday" by Boyz II Men in my head. This move is bittersweet like an early 90's love song: pretty bad at the time, but 10 years later is totally awesome.
One thing I've noticed about this house is that it has an inordinate amount of light switches. It seems for every series of bulbs, there are four switches for different lighting combinations. I went to bed last night listening to David click his way through the house until he finally made it to the bedroom about 5 minutes later. If anyone were out on the street, they'd think we were sending distress signals.
People in Florida are so nice. I had forgotten. David made fast friends with the alarm security guy this morning. He stayed for almost an hour after he finished the install. He's coming over tomorrow morning. David has a play-date.
The paint in the bedroom looks great, at least.

Leaving Los Angeles - Last Leg

Nothin' says roadtrippin' down south like...

Leaving Los Angeles - Day 8

We drove through what has been deemed an "Ice Storm" today. What is an Ice Storm? Does the sky turn into a huge ice maker and rain down half-moon shaped chunks of ice, or even crushed ice for that matter? Or is the ice, in fact, bagged ice falling at hundreds of miles per hour like wrecking balls from heaven?
Instead of minding our parents (and everyone else we spoke with), we decided to drive south directly into the "Ice Storm" to find out just what it was. Also, the moving guys had to leave by Thursday afternoon to drop off their next move, so there was that motivation.
As it turns out, an Ice Storm is nothing more than nasty weather. It rained. It snowed. It sleeted. Our windshield wipers froze. The side view mirrors sprouted icicles. The tires grew beards in the wheel wells made of mud, pebbles, snow, and ice. Dave had to concentrate pretty dang hard to see the road, but we weren't sliding around on big sheets of ice or driving through icebergs at every exit. It wasn't so bad. So don't let those weather guys fool you. Ice Storms are not that big of a deal and if you have to drive through one, go for it.

*Addendum: Apparently 23 people died in Kentucky on the day of the "Ice Storm." Disregard the previous paragraphs. Ice Storms are dangerous and you're an idiot if you drive through one.

Leaving Los Angeles - Day 6 and 7

I must say, Beyonce has become a staple of this trip. I'm not sure if you've heard her hit single "Single Ladies." If you're living in America, nay, breathing, then you've heard it. We have heard this song in every state, in every city, in every restaurant and bar. And in every place we hear it, we notice people grimacing and changing positions and yet, they still sing along. At the very least, they mouth the words between swigs of beer. We've now embraced Beyonce and her anthem to the single life. We appreciate what she's trying to do there. And now that we've reached that level of acceptance, I'd like to formally ask Ms. Knowles to go to the radio stations and request her song be permanently taken off the radio. I've tried, but I think she has more pull. If she's concerned about the money she will lose having this song taken off the air, please note that we will gladly pay to never hear it again.
Please, Beyonce. Don't let this happen again.

Leaving Los Angeles - Days 4 and 5

Several of the kids who attended my children's theatre in Iowa met me at a local coffee house. They're teenagers now, and can't finish a sentence without, "like" or "whatever." I attempted correcting them a few times, but what an amateur move that was. Futile.
We went out to dinner at Salami's (the nicest place in town) where the finest wines were known by color only, and the battered mushrooms were frozen in the middle. We went on to the Cellar, the place I spent many a night when I lived in Oskaloosa. The same 5 people I used to spend my evenings with were still sitting on the same stools drinking the same beers. They didn't remember me, or each other for that matter, and one of them told me I looked like a liar. I asked for a dirty vodka martini at the bar, where I was served what appeared to be 6 ounces of Grey Goose vodka mixed with olives and pickle juice for $4. I drank way too much and had asinine conversations with strangers who had no idea they were telling me the exact stame story they'd just told. In fact, a few times I finished the story for them and watched in delight as their eyes widened and they mouthed, "How did you know that?" It was special to be back in Osky.
We've moved on to Chicago to Corey and Dawn's place. And what a place it is. Their new house in unreal. Beautiful and big and covered in snow. Charlie is loving the backyard and Dawn cooked a dinner to rival everything we've eaten thus far on the trip. Charlie has two new friends, Max and Daisy, who he is having the most fun with. It's adorable to watch. :)

Leaving Los Angeles - Day 3

We are back in my old stomping grounds, Oskaloosa, Iowa. I lived here while running a children's theatre. We reached my best friend Amy's house this afternoon, who I lived with back in the day. We went on a smashing trip to the Walmart and got some ingredients for supper. Amy has a cat, though, which is pretty exciting to Charlie: a toy that walks. Needless to say, Charlie has gotten popped in the face a time or two.
It is cold like Satan got tired of fire and traded in for ice. I'm pretty glad we're moving to Florida. Ahhh, a few days of relaxation. :)

Leaving Los Angeles - Day 2

David and I were loopy the second we got into the car today. Charlie was SO bored he found approximately 28 different ways to looks out the windows: forwards, backwards, sideways, on a suitcase, (etc.) and even with his face out the window. We quickly learned that the extra skin on Boxers' faces is not conducive to 80 mph winds. We thought his face was going to peel off.

David learned our American Express had been suspended because of suspected fraud since we'd been using it in different states. We called and got the operating system lady, who I like to call Betty. She asks you questions and you respond. David has the Parrot in his car so we can hear the person talking through the speakers and respond through a small microphone. As Betty was giving us our options, we passed by a a HUGE cow farm. David quietly tapped my arm and said, "Babe! Look! Those cows are doing it!" Sure enough, two cows doing it. What he forgot was that Betty was still waiting for an answer. When he said it, we were both silent to see what Betty would say.
"I'm sorry. I did not understand that request."
David and I laughed so hard that we spit out our sunflower seeds while repeating, "Representative! Representative Betty!" Finally, Betty got frustrated and said, "I'm sorry. You seem to be having trouble. I'm going to connect you to a representative."
Until day 3...

Leaving Los Angeles - Day 1

When I walked Charlie last night for the last time down our street, he seemed to rush to smell every last blade of grass, tree root, and curb. I began to wonder if he was trying to take in all of his favorite smelling spots one last time. As if he knew we were leaving first thing in thing in the morning. Then I remembered he's a dog and I'm a touch romantic.
Saying goodbye to friends was a bit like breaking up with a guy because he cheated on you, not because you fell out of love with him. You know you're doing the right thing, but in no way does it feel right at the time.
Our road trip today started at 5am with a nasty alarm clock screaming at the top of its lungs. David and I were both wide awake within a few minutes and like a well-oiled machine, we cleaned up, packed the car, and scooped up Charlie on our way. We said goodbye to EVERYTHING; the stairs, the door, the alley. We even hummed a little Mexican ditty we co-wrote while passing our local grocer, the Vallarta.
Charlie was a champion traveler. It was as if he was born to be a road dog, and we were so glad. However, now that we are in the hotel room, he has not been able to generalize the concept of the mirror. At home, he understood it was not another room, nor were there other people that look eerily similar to David and I hanging out inside of it. He's bumped his head several times tonight and barks every time David waves at the mirror. Road dog? Yes. Hotel dog? Work in progress.
David and I had a great time together today, playing car games our friends sent to us, listening to audio books, a great traveling mix tape from Emi, and playing On-The-Road Scavenger Hunt, thanks to Amy's suggestion. We ate a ridiculous amount of vegetable chips from Corey and hung a lovely little air freshener reading, "Jesus thinks my car smells AWESOME," courtesy of Jimmy and Kelly. We really do have some awesome friends.

Going Away

Tonight I was told some friends were playing guitar at a place called The Talking Stick. All of our friends were there to see them play. About 3 songs in, one friend stood up and told us they actually had a going away surprise for us and turned on a video, projected onto the wall. It was a very sweet video of David and I for about 2 minutes. Then, it said these words:
"David and Erin...this...is...your..."
What word would you guess came next? I guessed, "...life." "David and Erin...this...is...your...life!"
It was not life. The word was not close to life. The word was, "...roast."
"David and Erin...this...is...your...ROAST!"
As soon as I processed the word, "ROAST," I was hoisted upside-down and thrown into a chair that looked like fire next to David, also in a fiery chair. Suddenly, friends and family began standing up one by one, saying their goodbyes, tossing a solid jab or two at us, and somehow highlighting the words, "boobs" and "balls" in a way that might sound creepy to some, but oh-s0-much like home to us. Neither David nor I had ever felt such a sense of honor and joy and primal fear all at once as we did at our very own Roast. I, for one, didn't even know that many people knew who I was, let alone had enough ammo to roast me in the middle of Venice. I think it goes without saying that I don't believe I have ever felt more blessed.
Afterward, an impromptu meeting at a local bar with drinks, reminiscing, dancing, and hysterical laughter filled our last night out on the town in L.A. with so much joy that I'm not sure I ever want to return to L.A. just so I can forever remember it this way.
As I lay, half awake, half asleep, wishing I could somehow call back the movers and request an extra year, I feel undeserving of the amount of love that I just received. I only hope I will be able to make someone else feel so astoundingly lucky in my lifetime.

Good Day!

So, 9am this morning the movers come. They were supposed to come tomorrow, but they showed up a day early to do "inventory." They quickly convinced Dave it was better to move today, so I half-showered and started packing as the movers taped up and loaded the boxes as fast as I could fill them. Stressful? Yes. Am I glad that it's done? Hell, yes.
The day couldn't have ended better. Pittsburgh is going to the Superbowl!! I stayed healthy, trading a much-deserved face filling pizza gorge for a salad. I will probably wake up at 3am and eat an entire tub of cottage cheese. GO STEELERS!

Things I Learned Today

1. Just because the back of one bottle of Omega-3 pills says to take three per day does not mean they all say take three per day.
2. 3600 milligrams of Omega-3 per day for 3 days will make you go.
3. Jacksonville's doggie daycare is 1/2 the cost of LA's.
4. Tennessee was NOT an original colony.
5. Unbelievable amounts of dust and debris hang out under a washer and dryer which quickly turns into mud when you disconnect the water hose.

I'm a Blogger

It all started very similarly to the way he orders Subway:
"Erin? I'm ordering Subway. You want something?"
"No, thanks. I'm fine. I'll just have a bite of yours."
"I'm ordering you an Itallian on wheat."
He told me I couldn't just post on his blog anytime I wanted to; I needed to start my own. So, fine.

We leave for Florida in 4 days. Los Angeles has been a rocky road. Literally, in that rocks blew holes through my car compressor on the 101 this week and I now have to have the entire thing replaced. With Charlie snoring on my lap, I am staring at boxes ready to be picked up by the Allied guys (or girls...). I'm hoping these are the automated boxes that unpack themselves.