It's Only A Paper Rose

Not that survival was necessarily an issue, but it's been a very strange move in some ways.

It didn't quite go as amazingly according to plan as the last one did, but close enough - the biggest hiccup was discovering that a mid-size (17') U-Haul truck wasn't quite big enough to fit all of our stuff in one trip. (I was initially planning on using Penske, but they weren't open on Sunday and I couldn't find anything but horror stories about Budget, so I just went with U-Haul. Fortunately the franchise near our old place in Sierra Vista appeared to be an actual corporate store very competently managed, and we got the truck that we reserved at the time we'd reserved it for, plus it was in decent shape. So overall, not a half-bad experience.) Normally we would've just upgraded to the next size, but given that the new place sits atop a twisty and steep little driveway, we bit the bullet and did two runs. Even then it was close, but fortunately the landlord was about and able to help Brian direct it up the driveway. I get the feeling he's done the navigation thing a few times before.

Anyway, the whole thing ended up getting pushed back a day, which made for a slightly expensive time when I had to call the electric company and get them to turn the service back on so we could clean the old place (note to self: give yourself an extra day or two of utility service when scheduling shutoff just in case), but the important part was that it all got done, with much thanks to my mother for all of her help and some Mormons our friend Adam recruited for us to help move our five-hundred-pound-wood-and-granite table. And now we have a great little place in Bisbee with a stunning view (pictures forthcoming, if Brian can get them off his camera for me).

So what was so odd about the move? Honestly, I'm not even certain I could tell you; I've just been in a very strange headspace about the whole thing. It really felt to me (and still does, a bit) that we hadn't actually moved and were instead simply in a vacation rental (despite the fact that all our stuff is here) and that soon we'll have to go back to our "real" home. Sort of the housing version of impostor syndrome, I guess - it all seems too good to be true. I wish I could say why, or even what's causing it, but I can't put my finger on it - things just feel slightly off-kilter.

I'm thinking that part of the trippiness comes from this being the first time I've ever moved from one town to another within easy driving distance - we still do our major shopping in Sierra Vista (just like everyone else in the area), so parts of our routine are still pretty much the same. It's a bit of a contrast from the all-or-nothing experience that is moving between cities in Alaska. Part of it might also have been having my mother around; that'd certainly be reminiscent of all the times we moved when I was growing up, and possibly contribute to a sense of not actually being in possession of the place myself. Then there was the fact that I hadn't gotten a full night's sleep in something like two weeks by the time we finally finished moving in - my system kept dumping a shot of adrenaline into my bloodstream roundabout 3 AM and I wouldn't be able to get back to sleep for an hour or two. And who knows? Maybe in an alternate universe, we're staying in this place as a vacation rental, but it truly and honestly feels like home. :)

In any case, we're here now, and so far Bisbee is every bit as awesome a place to live as we figured it'd be. Plus we had a lovely housewarming party, and got to carve pumpkins for Halloween this year (again, pictures forthcoming). So on the whole, I can't complain.

Now to address the question of the next stage in Rose's life: To start the job search again? To try participating in NaNoWriMo? Both? Neither, and simply bamf around on the Internet and waste time? Stay tuned...

It's a bit bittersweet, waking up and realizing that your life is in flux again. Even when it's good change that you've been looking forward to, it's still change, which is by nature stressful. And no matter how much better the new situation will be, there are almost always good things about the old one that you'll miss.

Yesterday was my last day at the winery. It was a good day, all told (all of my last few days were) - pretty much everything I liked about the job was in full swing. I got to meet some nifty people and share something I enjoy with them; I got to work with cool people (including the girl they hired to replace me, who's very cool and will probably be even better than me after she's had some experience); I got to sit in the back and listen to an audiobook while I put labels on bottles. And after work, we all got to taste-test some excellent food in hopes of finding a good wine pairing to go with them for the next festival.

But I can't say I'm entirely sorry to be leaving. I've enjoyed the job quite a bit, but I won't miss the crappy pay or the commute. And it'll be really nice to have weekends to myself again - plus, I might actually get to *attend* the next festival, instead of being stuck in a booth pouring wine for folks. Besides, we'll be living in Bisbee soon - and I'm sure I'll be able to find something I enjoy just as much there. (Or something that pays better. Or both.)

There's also a wonderful sense of just general revitalization that comes from moving forward with your goals - it makes your other goals seem less unattainable, somehow. And I'll take that over being stuck in a rut pretty much any day.

Besides...we're going to have a rockin' housewarming party.

It looks like I've officially moved from the "rationally plan things out" stage of moving to the "holy crap we've got a two-bedroom house of stuff to move and only two people to do it all panic panic panic" stage.

I know it's a long shot, but does anybody feel like coming down at the end of the month to help? We can promise a bed and some excellent food in repayment, plus the chance to visit a super-nifty little corner of Arizona that most people don't even know exists.

Given our upcoming move to a town 30 miles away, I'm in the process of looking up options for actually getting all of our stuff from here to there. And for the first time in my life, a rental truck is actually the best option. Woo for an entire life of cross-Alaska moves.

(ETA: I just realized that while I mentioned it on Facebook a couple times, I don't think our moving plans have come up here yet. So, yes - Brian got the job in Bisbee, which he's liking (and fitting in to) very well, and we're moving there at the end of October when our lease is up, which makes us happy because we've wanted to move there pretty much since first visiting the place. Also, while we haven't been able to buy our dream home, we found a great little rental place that has a lot of the same features (gorgeous view with deck over it, great setup for entertaining, nice location in Old Bisbee, etc.) that's right in our price range. So we're pretty excited.)

Anyway, it looks like there are two major options for truck rental:

• The old standby, U-Haul. I've only dealt with them once, when I rented a pickup to haul our mattress home, but they seemed like pleasant enough folks, and while the truck wasn't exactly comfortable it was new-ish and got the job done well. Another advantage is that they have a location in Bisbee itself, so we'd only have to go one-way. They're also about 20% more expensive, but it's a short trip, so the difference isn't anything that'd break the bank.

• Penske, whom I've never dealt with. I've heard from a couple places that their trucks are nicer and that they're cheaper (and the quotes bear the latter out, even with the extra miles from going round-trip). It'd take a bit more time to go there and back, but assuming it's just the two of us we'd have to do so anyway to come back and get one of the cars.

So I guess my question is, for those of you who have experience with one or both companies - is it six of one, half-dozen of the other? Or is there a significant difference between the two in terms of service, truck quality, etc.? Also, the place we're moving to has a rather narrow/steep/twisty drive, so if there's a significant difference in the nimbleness of a given truck, that'd be a consideration.

As some of you might have gathered, Sunday was a bit of a downer for me.  I couldn't even tell you why - there wasn't anything particularly bad about it (quite the opposite).  Brian thought it had something to do with the fact that I'd been basically moving nonstop for the entire two weeks prior, which is certainly a possibility.  Whatever the cause, I was pretty noticeably depressed that day, to the point of nearly breaking down in tears in the middle of Lowe's for no discernible reason.

Fortunately, it was a pretty short-lived bout of depression, and by Monday I was feeling fine again, although I ended up sleeping through the afternoon and didn't get to do much exploring like I'd planned.  I would have just attributed it to general laziness, except that Brian has been getting progressively grouchier over the last week or so, with his mood reaching a nadir Tuesday morning - air beds are all well and good, but just don't work well for sleeping two people, especially for more than a few days.  "Something must be done," I cried, or would have done so had there been anyone to hear me but the cats.

Lo and behold, Craigslist decided to cooperate, throwing up an ad for a four-year-old memory-foam mattress for $250, in a town an hour away.  We'd ordered a new one from Costco.com for about $680, but it was taking its damn sweet time to ship.  So I called them up to cancel the order, called U-Haul to see if they had a truck available, and decided to go for a bit of a road trip.

Now, a bit of a confession.  For all that I give off the impression of being a very competent and take-charge kind of person (and I am!), I went through quite a phase of nervousness when I was a teenager, especially pertaining to things that were particularly "adult" (like renting a truck), and especially-especially pertaining to things I'd never done before (like renting a truck and driving it to a town an hour away).  And while I'm mostly over that, I do still occasionally have bouts of insecurity and nervousness, especially when I do things that are notably outside my comfort zone (like renting a truck and driving it to a town an hour away to buy a mattress from a couple people I've never met.)  But I pushed through the nervousness and went on ahead, and I'm glad I did - the sellers turned out to be super-nice people, missionaries who were being stationed in Indonesia and needed to lighten their load.  The mattress itself was pretty nice, too; showing its age a bit, but still plenty comfortable (and definitely better than the air bed we were sleeping on).  I thought it was worth $250, so I gave them as much, and was a bit amused when the husband said "Oh, er, here, $200 is enough..."  I guess they figured the buyer would try to bargain them down.  Awfully nice of them, anyway - it meant the total cost for the whole trip (even with the $100 truck rental and $20 of gas) was less than half of what the new mattress would have cost.

I think it was a good experience for me in a number of other ways, too.  I've never driven a large truck before, and I'd heard Brian complain often about how they were difficult to pilot, so the idea of taking one through Sierra Vista and to another town was a bit scary.  But I ended up rather enjoying myself.  Sure, the GMC Sierra I got from U-Haul wasn't the most comfortable ride (stiff suspensions + bumpy Arizona roads = Vibra-Truck!), but it was easier to handle than I was anticipating, and it had a pretty decent sound system with an Aux In jack.  So I rocked out to the contents of my iPod as I went along on one of the first longish drives I've done in a while.  The landscape was pretty, too, albeit in a very different way than Juneau is - mostly brown, but with some brush and brownish-red mountains that really look more like hills to my Alaskan-trained eye.  It felt odd not to be anywhere near the ocean (pretty much everywhere I've lived in the past wasn't more than a few miles from the coast), but it was neat to explore a bit nonetheless. 

It strikes me that the trip also helped me feel better because I did the entire thing (making arrangements, renting the truck, getting the mattress, bringing it back, hauling it into the house and setting it up) by myself.  It's not that I'm against the idea of accepting help, but sometimes I start to feel like I'm getting too used to having Brian or my friends to lean on.  While I certainly value the consistent help from those sources, I'm an independent enough person to feel vindicated when I do something moderately difficult all on my own.  (Plus it meant that I could surprise Brian when he got home.  It was really sweet, seeing how happy he was not to have to sleep on the airbed again.)

And, hooray!  Now we have a real bed, and let me tell you - I slept pretty darn well last night (as did Brian, if his mood this morning was anything to go by).  In fact, I think I'm going to go back to sleep right now and catch up on some of the hours I missed due to tossing and turning on that air mattress...

Go.

We made it to Sierra Vista in one piece.  The travel went smoothly enough, but it was hard to enjoy because I had a big knot in my chest from listnening to Dexter yowl, scratch, and generally go nuts the entire way.  Two 2.5-hour flights, a 1.5 hour layover, and a 1.5 hour car ride.  I'm surprised the poor guy wasn't hoarse.  (Leo, on the other hand, was remarkably chill - I guess either the Valium helped, or he was just too plain terrified to do his usual mental-patient-throwing-himself-against-the-walls-of-the-carrier routine.)  We got them here eventually, and they proceeded to spend the entire night making as much noise as felinely possible so that we knew exactly how unimpressed they were with air travel/car rides/Arizona/the new digs/the narrow windowsills/moving in general.  Needless to say, we didn't get a whole lot of sleep, although it was worse for Brian than me, as he had to start his new job the next day.

One day later, Dexter's pretty much calmed down and seems happy enough exploring the new place.  Leo, however, has found a hiding place where we can't find him, which worries us some.  We know he's got to be around, though - he hasn't gotten outside and I saw him dashing between rooms briefly earlier this evening - so if he needs to be an invisible cat for a while until he's more comfortable with the new place, I guess I can understand that.  There have certainly been a couple of times I'd have liked to curl up where no one else could find me.

ETA:  Found him - there's a hole in the inside part of the wall where the plumbing from one of the bathroom sinks goes in, just big enough for a cat to jump through.  We'll have to find some way to patch it.

Incidentally, I'd forgotten exactly how bloody expensive it is to (re)stock a household - we've spent more than a grand on just basic items like bedding and cookware and cleaning supplies and dishes, and we haven't even begun to look for furniture yet.  I have a feeling there's going to be a lot of Craigslisting in our near future.  (Still cheaper than the seven grand it would've been to ship everything, though.)  Many thanks go once more to the lovely guests at our housecooling party - their generosity made the process much less painful than it could have been.

We rented a car for a couple of weeks until the Audi makes it here.  The guy was going to give us a Chevy Aveo but offered us a discount on an upgrade to a new Mustang, which we decided to take - although more because Aveos are crappy cars than for any love of the Mustang (we test-drove a 2006 a few years ago and were extremely unimpressed with the build quality, noisy ride, sound system, and various other non-features).  It ended up being well worth the extra expense, however, because the 2010 Mustang is like the 2006 one built by Japanese engineers - still a lot of the same aggressive American styling cues, but much nicer materials, a far quieter engine, surprisingly good soundproofing, a much nicer stereo system, a cool retro-look interior design, and generally a much higher standard of build quality.  I'd heard rumours that Ford was trying to clean up its act with regards to its passenger cars, but I hadn't realized exactly how stark the difference was - I never thought I'd say this, but I'm really enjoying driving it.  It's just the basic hardtop V6 model, but I'd easily recommend anyone looking for a midsize car to give it a look - it's nice and roomy (the backseat is decent-sized for all it's a coupe), the engine's got plenty of power, and the styling's a lot more interesting than (say) the comparably priced Chrysler Sebring (to say nothing of the Sebring's myriad other faults).

Sierra Vista itself has yet to really convince me that it's a place we're going to want to stay for very long.  Admittedly, it's only been a day, but the various message boards I was reading weren't kidding - this place is like Strip Mall/Big Box World.  I guess when you don't have to build slanted roofs to deal with snow/rain, a box is the most efficient shape for a building, but yeesh - talk about blandness in architecture.  Even the place we're renting, which is quite nice on the inside, isn't much to look at, just...boxy.  The real question will be the people, I think - places to live are all well and good, but friends are what make them worth staying in, interesting architecture or no.  So we'll give it time...we're here for a year, and if we're unimpressed at the end of it, there's nothing stopping us from packing everything into a U-Haul and heading someplace else.

I really miss Juneau right now.

Oh, and one last thing - all of you whom I've been telling about the 72 degree sunny weather?  It's all lies.  Today was about fifty degrees and windy, and supposedly it's going to get down to 28 tonight.  They say it's a cold front moving over the entire Western US, and that it's blizzarding in Wyoming and Colorado right now, but I see through their claims - the whole "come to the desert for the nice winter weather" thing is one big joke meant to lure unsuspecting northerners down here.  Don't be fooled!

• Roughly three of four pizzas and one of two plates of hummus eaten
• Half of beer drunk, other half taken away
• Two-thirds of leftover stuff now gone
• Quality time spent with eight friends, old and new
• A surprisingly large amount of cash in the donation bowl at the end of it all

Yeah, I think I'm going to call this whole shindig a pretty resounding success.  I would've liked a few more people to show up and take things away, but the ones who came by did a pretty darn good job on their own, and I don't think I could've asked for a livelier group of people to spend several hours with.

Many, many thanks go to Donna-doll for showing up at 10 AM and helping not only clean the living room and organize/set out everything that was going, but also cleaning out the cupboards as she emptied them and buying the pizza.

Laura, the lady who bought my car, came by for a while and had a great time - she fit right in with all our crazy friends.  She was very sweet - when we were telling her about some of our culinary adventures, she was going "Wow, why'd I have to meet you guys now?"  Hopefully she'll come visit us in Arizona sometime so we can cook for her.  Plus she's my shoe size too, so between her and Donna I managed to find homes for almost all of my nice shoes.

I think my favorite moment was towards the end when Chris picked up the donation bowl and went "Okay, so you guys are getting rid of this, right?  'Cause I'll take it off your hands as a favor if you want," and Brian and I laughed and laughed...both because it was funny, and because Brian had predicted Chris would do exactly that at some point during the night.

Jeanne was there too, with Anderson, now six weeks old and still one of the most remarkably adorable babies I've seen.  I have to admit, even though it wasn't much of a stretch picturing Jeanne as a mother, it's still wonderful to see how happy she is.  I know it's something she's wanted for a while.  Anderson doesn't have much personality as of yet, but I'm sure he'll grow into it soon, especially with such loving parents.

Robert, a friend of Donna's and reader of this blog through Facebook (*waves at Robert*) came as well and brought his lovely wife Olga.  I was amused at how amazed he seemed that we were just giving all this stuff away, and weren't depressed or sorry about it - I guess he forms stronger attachments to things than we do.  Fortunately he didn't let his amazement get in the way of taking lots of stuff, and we got the benefit of some great conversation from both of them besides.  And they, along with everyone else, rocked out to AC/DC's "Big Balls", which was awesome.

Monica came, of course, although she was mostly just her usual cheerful unobtrusive self.  She didn't seem to mind my showing people the picture of her Halloween costume (as various parts of it were scattered about to find homes), which provided for quite a bit of amusement.  And she got to play dress-up with my clothes, although how that's really all that different from any number of times she's come over I'm not certain, aside from the size of the audience.

I swear, good friends are what makes the difference between life being "decent" and "great".  I know some introverted people who would disagree with me, but I think there's a distinction there - a good friend knows when to leave you alone and when they need to be there for you.  We've been blessed with a surfeit of wonderful friends of that nature, and I'm grateful for each and every one of them.

Mid-move right now. Everything's going remarkably smoothly, even including the suddenly-leaving-four-days-earlier-than-we-thought aspect. The house is a wreck (of course), but we've got most of the big stuff sold. My car is paid for and turned over to a new owner who's a very sweet lady, quite happy to have it and willing to be flexible/trusting on the paperwork (which I'm eternally grateful for, given that getting the title from the lienholder is turning out to be a long damn process). Bed and one bookcase are gone, and much of the remaining furniture is spoken for; everything we're shipping is on pallets and waiting for the barge to leave, as is the car we're keeping; cats have carriers and Valium for the plane ride; lease is signed for the place in AZ and the landlord doesn't mind that we're arriving early; air tickets are set to go.

It certainly hasn't been easy; we're both tired and there's still a lot to do. The housecooling party is tomorrow and there's a lot of cleaning/organizing that needs to be done before people come over. Donna's coming over to help with that, though, and after it's just a matter of donating or dumping the stuff we can't get rid of, cleaning up the apartment (hooray for landlords who will actually be in town for a walkthrough), and heading out. Crazy stuff.

Relocating one's life is never a simple task, especially from someplace as remote as Alaska. But given what a nightmare our last move was (just going across town), I'm rather grateful that this one's been so smooth.