The mainland move is done

Yesterday we moved all of our stuff from the West Village to Connecticut, to my in-laws house. When I say we, I mean I packed all of the boxes, and the movers from Flat Rate moved all of our stuff. Leo micromanaged from his comfortable seat on the couch, until they moved it. Seeing that the move was progressing at hyper-speed, I hightailed it to Connecticut and Leo followed on the train an hour later, once the movers had left the apartment, and left us with nothing but our bar (complete with the contents), a bookcase which will either be tossed or given to someone, our IKEA desk that we don't mind leaving by the side of the road, a chair from a once complete living room set that we don't really want to pitch (we've shed one item on each move), our mattress, and all of the suitcases we are taking with us to London. The movers made it to the house in CT in record time, and unlike most movers, they didn't complain. They didn't even want water. Our Flat Rate movers were fantastic ... no complaints! With their help, we moved all of the boxes into our designated corner of the attic, with some of our other items distributed throughout the house. It was the easiest and most pleasant move we've had. And a bit disturbing seeing all of our stuff fit into the corner of an attic, not sure of when we'll see it next. But a big thanks to Flat Rate, and an enormous thanks to Leo's folks for storing our stuff and dismantling their house to accommodate it all.

We're back!

Back from Disney World where waking up at 7 is the norm, eating dinner at 5:30 isn't just for octogenarians, and obesity runs rampant. Even so, it was fun, we got to spend time with our nephews, who we never get to see, and Leo learned that he does like roller coasters (we rode Space Mountain 4 times in one day). And, as I had hoped, it got us out of New York, away from all of the packing, and planning, and chaos, and into a world where we could relax, sit by a pool and drink mixed drinks out of Mickey Mouse illustrated plastic cups.

A Small Hiatus

We now have our visa; the apartment is a wreck; we need to buy another suitcase and probably some more boxes; we leave for London in 15 days; so what are we going to do now...we're going to Disney World.

4 hours and counting

...of my last day at work. It always feels odd to leave a job. Especially one you've been at for a couple of years. Regardless of whether you loved it or hated it, there will always be people, situations, and electronics you'll miss. This goodbye is even more bizarre for two reasons - 1) It is a half day before the Christmas vacation, so no one is here, and 2) I have no idea what is coming next. As Leo put it last night, "you may never work again." Not very comforting words.

The last time I was in this position was after I graduated from graduate school in Chicago. But at least there I was familiar with the city, I had friends around me, and I had an entertaining roommate who I'd drink beer with in the early afternoon (which he probably would have done with or without me) while watching teen comedies. However, being jobless and in a new city will allow me time to explore the place. I'll probably visit all of the museums. I'll figure out the tube. I'll find us a place to live. I'll take a day-trip to Stonehenge. I could be in Paris in 2 1/2 hours. This life of leisure doesn't sound half bad!

Days Off

Taking days off of work used to be enjoyable. I'd lounge in bed until 10, go to the video store and rent a couple movies I know Leo wouldn't mind missing. Then I'd pick up a gyro or some other greasy street-meat to eat while having a beer and watching crappy movies. These day, however, a day off means more hours to organize and pack and stress.

This morning I was out of bed and dressed by 9. Then Leo and I organized our visa application, while I continued to pack boxes. When Leo left for work, I walked about a mile to Staples to pick up more boxes and tape. Then, I waited in the cold for the bus (since I didn't have enough money in my wallet for a cab). Once I delivered the boxes to my apartment, I shoved garbage bags full of clothes we are giving away into a large backpack, and trucked the clothes to the salvation army to donate. Now I have about an hour of downtime (a.k.a - packing time) before I meet Leo to go get our fingers printed for the visa, and when that is done, I'll run uptown to the courier service to drop off all of our visa paperwork.

These days, going to work, isn't looking so bad.

Going Away Party - Mason Dixon

Friday night, at Mason Dixon on the Lower East Side, we had our official going away party. The spot was chosen by Tom and Caron (our friends who are also moving to London), since the bar Leo and I had chosen (the Patriot), was deemed a bit too unsavory for them. After giving them A LOT of crap for this, I now must apologize. Mason Dixon was a blast - decently priced-drinks, good southern bar food, and most importantly...the mechanical bull.

Who knew riding a hunk of metal in the shape of a bull, in a padded ring, being watched, heckled and ogled by everyone in the bar, could be so much fun. So much fun, that not only did Leo and I ride the bull, I rode it twice (as did a number of people in our party). About 50 of our closest friends turned out for the occasion, including coworkers of mine that I actually like, Leo's coworkers (who will show up and drink for any occasion), college friends, scuba diving friends, and two friends of mine, Whitney and Ashley, who grew up with me in Miami. A good time was had by all, which you can view on my Flickr page.

Always on the Move

I'm not sure what woke me up, but once I was awake, all I could think about were boxes...I need boxes for the linens...remember to get more tape and bubble wrap...will the Turkish platter fit inside a standard file box, or will I need something larger...definitely larger...I realize that after years of moving, I've become and expert at this. Since graduating college, we have moved 5 times - with 3 apartments in Chicago, and 2 in New York. The longest we've ever stayed in one place was almost 3 years in our last apartment in Chicago. This, for a Cancer (One who is fundamentally conservative with a home-loving nature, appreciating the nest like quality of a secure base) is not normal behavior, but at this point, it has become instinctual.

I'm also a collector...ok, a pack-rat. I somehow acquire things and cling to them. Maybe it's the Cancer sign again, since I don't ever get my nest. To carefully hide all of these things that have attached themselves to me over the year (so Leo won't force me to put them out with the trash), I've become a master-packer. Carefully squeezing small plastic children's toys and rocks from various vacations into boxes marked as "Assorted Books" and "Fancy Glasses - Fragile."

But this move is a very different move. A minimalist move. Packing up everything we own, to move it to Connecticut, while we move to London. Aside from our clothes, a few glasses, and some unread books, I am packing our lives away into cardboard boxes, and I have no idea when I'll see all of it next. This could break me, or be my saving grace...but at 3:30 in the morning, these things tend to take on a significance which they don't normally have.

All this being said, at least I have acquired a valuable skill over the years.

Official Goodbye Dinner #1 - Momofuku

Monday night was the first, of hopefully many, goodbye dinners. In attendance were Foster, Heather and Aaron, Liz, Ed, and Melissa - all hungry for 5 pounds of tasty Bo Ssam goodness (slow-roasted pork butt, wrapped in bib lettuce, with oysters, topped with kimchee and scallion sauces).
Dinner began slowly, with the hipster waitstaff pretending that our party of 8 was invisible. Finally, we were offered drinks and allowed to order our appetizers, which were rather good, (especially the sweetbreads). Then the Bo Ssam was brought out, pipping hot, with glistening crispy skin.

Much pork was consumed, many bottles of wine were drunk (including a wine made by a former Assistant Dean of our alma mater, St. John's college). It was a great night all around, even with some squabbling over the bill.