I forgot how much I hate unpacking.

Packing is fine. Packing is almost fun, when you get down to it. You get to crumble newspaper and shove things forcefully into boxes, leaving your room (usually) looking neat and tidy. Not so much with unpacking.

Unpacking involves taking out that fun newspaper, your floor covered with it, open boxes, too much confusion. At least it doesn't have a time frame, right? Right. Otherwise, standing in the middle of the room saying "I don't know. I just don't know what to do" would be a whole lot more stressful. As is, I don't have a job to flock to (that search starts again tomorrow morning) so I can spend the day chugging down coffee, cutting open boxes, putting things away, and, gloriously, setting up my beloved desktop, Fido. Those boxes being open and empty also means I have surfaces in which to put things, as Fido's monitor and Shreds are taking up the only two solid, flat places to put anything of importance. Shreds and the monitor are a hell of a lot more important than setting up my maneki neko collection, I'm sorry to say.

The day will consist of unpacking boxes and putting the room in some semblance of order - the night will have me dragging in the iron and it's board in order to take apart those carefully constructed piles of clothing, ironing everything, and hanging up what absolutely needs to be hung up. My business suits are already hanging but I can see even from my bit of floor that much of it is wrinkled from our cross-country journey and being rolled into an airtight bag.

I have too many jeans. How did I not realize I owned this many jeans??

Lists are being made on the places I need to know about and where, exactly, they are. I need to find out how to get back to that lovely, huge used book store and where I can get the best sushi. The library is crucial, even though I can't get a card due to my lack of state citizen ship. Places accepting employment, where I can print up further resumes. Where's the best local hair salon (is that teaching salon any good?), how do I get back to that 'Giant' sort of food store? Coffee shops? Locally owned ones, with sofa's and cool people, a place where I can sit and meet those around my own age (or mental group, whatever).

Where can I get the best tea?

But that's for later, when my room is set up. Concentrate on the small things first, get in order. Then the big things can be tackled.

Time for me to go finish the days chore, Blog. Until next time!

T-Minus Three? Days

I am so over packing. So over it. I may never sound more Valley Girl in my life than when I say that, hand flipping included. It may be nullified by the fact I say it in mis-matched knee socks, a bright green tank top, and white bandanna. Vaguely trailer trash? Probably. But it makes me feel all butch and strong and Gods know what else.

The good news of the day is that almost everything that needs to be packed is. We need to get the dishes I plan on bringing all set up, rescue the pots and pans from the storage area, and Shredder's cage has to be scrubbed clean. The cage cleaning happens tomorrow and it's going to be one of the first things put into the car. Shreds will be traveling in his little feeding tank in a pretty pillow case with a brand new shoebox hide! He will be a comfortable customer, freshly fed even so he won't be overly hungry. Well 'freshly fed' means I'm feeding him tonight so he has time to digest and poop before we scurry along. I'm sure he'll be very excited to come into the hotel with us, hitting up the states in style, the lucky little reptile.

My clothes are, once and for all, packed. I have the next few days outfits ready and my necessity bag is looking alright; it will have a few more things than planned in there as my shampoo and conditioner are the squirty types and like to irritate me.

On happier and less moving related notes, breakfast/lunch was had with Mommia, sister, and the grandparents. Granddad was having a good day - he remembered he'd seen Kelsey and Mom in pictures and that there were three of us. Grandma looked like she was going to cry near the end of things. Yeaaaaaaah, I don't blame her, really. The move hasn't hit me, not yet; it's mostly this ball of stress in my life.

Oh yeah. Yesterday. I meant to post about the move but, dear lord. It was not a good day. I wrote a list of what I needed. Lists are awesome. I love them. They're beautiful and when I'm twisted up about something, I make a list in order to sort it out. Hell, it's how I decided months back I wanted to move to Virginia - Pros and Cons, of course. The list for this particular endeavor went to shit and a mini-meltdown went into effect in the late afternoon. I stood in the center of my clustercrud of a bedroom, clutching my stuffed pig and kept repeating, "I just don't know. I don't know. What do I do?"

Fabulous time, that. It ended with Ashley's house and ice cream. We watched Clash of the Titans and Avatar until finally passing out. By the time I got home this morning, I had managed to create a vague plan in my face-place on how to put things together. The major turning point came when I packed up Fido, my desktop.

As of now boxes are taped shut, my book shelf is waiting to be stored away in the trunk of my car, things are sucked up. I'm only bringing my four favorite books ( 1984, The Giver, Enders Game, and Serial Killers) - the rest are stored away in the now-empty dresser. My art supplies are all stowed in my closet along with a good portion of the writing I've done in the entirety of my life. Looking at ones life in a multitude of boxes and PackMate bags is an odd, odd feeling.

My computer break is nearly over. I think I'm going to go start packing the dishes just to get it the hell out of my way. It's been about an hour sooo must be responsible. Loading the car starts tomorrow, after all. ... So not looking forward to it.

Until next time.

T-Minus Five Days

Whoever invented packing sucks. The same person probably invented steam, the jerk. How do people figure this sort of stuff out when they have a severely limited amount of space and places to put things?! I stand here in the middle of my room (that looks like a disaster area due to squeezing two rooms into one) and just stare at all of my belongings. My room in Virginia has no space in which to put my knick-knacks. But I like my knick-knacks and my little decorations scattered over the room.

They range from a stuffed pig to picture frames and Japanese vases, stuff from my DORM ROOM back five years ago, a whole bunch of fairy statuettes... The only ones I know I'm bringing are my Buddha figures and my maneki neko pieces. Photos are a given as I adore you all and that good stuff but. What else? What do I like enough to take with me?

I've already chosen the art supplies I'm bringing. If I have room at the end of all the packing, I'll bring more but as it stands, it's down to some drawing paper, bristol board (smooth for the win), a sketch book or two, and my Wacom Intuos 3 tablet. Books are being limited to the ones I read most often or have been meaning to read for quite a while. My collectable series are being kidnapped off - who wouldn't bring books worth 20$ each because they're no longer in print?

Maybe the most important question is how do I want the new bedroom in a new world (to me) to look? When people walk into the bedroom now, they're hit by a barrage of stuffed animals, pictures from Middle/High school, some almost ten years old. Fairy statues, monster amounts of art supplies, jewelry scattered everywhere. When I say a 'barrage of stuffed animals', I mean it. There are little plushies everywhere in my bedroom, from the shelves to the desk and vanity and, sometimes, my lamps. My art is on the walls although the stuff posted by my desk is for references while I write although one piece is, admittedly, just because I really like Minamoto no Yoshinaka. He is, like, the utter bomb.

I don't think I want my room there to be an echo of the one here. New life, new beginning, yadda yadda. Maybe just the more recent pictures on display, the older ones in the photo albums I am planning on bringing.

Ugh. Time to go stand in the middle of my room again, O Loyal Readers And Friends, and be useless just staring at my packrat ways.

Until next time.