Life, she's a changin'

I promised myself I wouldn't let my blog fall apart again and then what did I do? Let the bastard fall apart. I apologize, future Nij. Know that your life of late has been a whirlwind of booze, boxes, strippers, Rid, and some really solid VH1 reality programming. I promise to try harder.

Speaking of your life of late, today will be the very first night you spend in your new digs. Yeah, the third person stuff is just creepy so we're bringing 'er back to today. Today...Nic and I moved our little asses off. We moved so hard that we might not even be able to fit into our apple bottom jeans from here on out. And the boots with the fur? Forget about it.

But seriously, Steve offered to help with the move and I, in a fit of move-intensified PMS, "fired" Nic's help last night, insisting that we could do it ourselves. I think it was a mixture of PMS (which sort of goes without saying), emotions from the move, and my body reacting to the thought of waking up at 8:30am on a Saturday the only way it knows how. I revolted. Nic almost saw me cry for the second time ever. He would have too, if I hadn't hidden in the bathroom.

So, this morning, we began the move without Steve's help. Just the two of us. On more than one occasion, mostly when we were at our wits end trying to move the couch, positive that only Jesus himself could help us, Nic was ANGRY. You know what's beautiful about Angry Nic? You can't even tell he's angry. Really the only hint is that he stops speaking in his furby voice. But there's no profanity. No punching walls. No punching me. There were a couple "I told you so" moments but, honestly, I deserved them. Why do I pretend to be capable of lifting things? If you need someone to build you a spreadsheet, I'm your girl. If you're looking for somebody to help you move heavy pieces of furniture, you're better off hiring the twelve-year old girl who babysits the neighbor's kids.

Amazingly, we managed to move the contents of my entire living room to Goodwill, unassisted. Aside: I want to get a part-time at Goodwill. You can't tell me it wouldn't be fun to see all the shit (errr, treasures?) that come through that place. I'm considering it. I bet I'd even get a discount. Expect some bomb-ass Christmas presents this year.

Shortly after we finished the Goodwill runs, Nic rehired Steve and he came over to help move my bedroom furniture up the hill. As much as I fought the notion having somebody help, it was nice to be able to do some kitchen cleaning while they took care of the more manly chores.

So, here I am...sitting in Nic's living room, typing this masterpiece ON THE COUCH, wondering how I ever lived without wireless internet. Also? Sort of excited to start this new chapter of my life. Having said that, I'm also very sad. I'm closing one of the best chapters so far. We had some crazy fun in that apartment. Hopefully the new chapter will involve a lot more lemonade and not so many beers, Tim McGraw style. Or at least more sophisticated alcohol. Like scotch or Arbor Mist.

Red cried her eyes out when she left my apartment for the last time, and I imagine I will do the same when I walk out that door for the last time. Luckily, God is totally my homey and has been encouraging the thugs of Duluth to target my apartment building with their criminal activities during the last week or so. It sucks for everybody whose cars have been broken into, but it's awesome for me because it makes leaving a little bit easier.

In addition to the fretting whenever my car spends a night outside the garage, I will not missing the following :

• Lack of air conditioning. I'll admit I'm proud of surviving Duluth's hottest summer on record without that little luxury, but I won't lie and tell you it didn't suck. It sucked hard. With teeth.
• The elephants who live upstairs. Seriously. Who walks that loud? Nobody...which leads me to wonder what the hell their beef is with me.
  
• The asshole who delivers my mail. What did I ever do to you, Newman, you insensitive bastard?
• Obviously, the internet immobility. Plugging stuff in is so five years ago.
• Walking half a mile and a half from my garage to my apartment with groceries, having to set everything down five times to open all the doors along the way.
• The people across the hall who stare me down all the time like I'm the one who threw their boots on the roof. You wish.
• COIN FUCKING LAUNDRY. So maybe I never really did find puke in the washing machine, but it doesn't even matter. It never even bothered me that much that I had to actually spend money to do laundry. It just sucks having to keep quarters on hand. It also sucks to have to get your clothes out as soon as they're done because the old lady from down the hall is sitting right in front of the dryer, knitting up a storm, waiting to pounce as soon as that effer buzzes. In fact, the first thing I did tonight upon arriving at Nic's house was throw a load in and it was SO LIBERATING.
• Throwing my money away. Amen.
  

You know what I will miss the shit out of (will tears damage my laptop)?

• The view. Good Lord, the view. In retrospect, I don't think I spent enough time staring outside or sitting out on the deck with a beer, just taking it all in. And, trust me, I did that A LOT. It never got old.
• Walking to work. This was so unbelievably convenient, especially during the winter when the roads were bad. Not paying for parking was awesome too...you know, because I'm so thrifty all the time.
• My shower. It was the most thorough, exhilarating cleaning experience I've ever had and I had it EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. And hot. Man, did that thing get hot. I will not, however, miss Red flooding the damn bathroom every time she showered there.
• As long as we're on the topic, the bathtub. I will really only miss the bathtub because I didn't pay for water there and, as a result, I took a whole lot of baths...like one or two every day during the winter. That kind of a lot. Baths here are going to be a treat, not a lifestyle.
• The proximity to Canal Park and downtown. But honestly, downtown is turning into a total shit hole, a hotbed of gang activity. And walking under the freeway to get to Canal Park was very scary. Plus, I can totally still park at the old homestead to make that walk whenever I feel the need. It just won't be the same...
• Lloyd.
• Walking to the bars, which I guess falls under that walking downtown category but this is good enough to merit its own bullet point. If you've walked to the bars with me, you know what I mean. If you've taken a beer for the road (or a bottle of champagne), you DEFINITELY know. Again though, the crime. We were bound to get killed eventually and as Dad sat composing our eugogolies (holla, Zoolander!), he wouldn't be able to get past "I told you so."

The moral of the story? You win some, you lose some. In this case, I think it's a winning season overall.

Now I'm going to go eat chips and salsa and ice cream, watch The Love Guru with my future husband, and enjoy my first night of living in sin...for the second time.