Beat

The title says it all: I'm beat.

My back is so sore. It's hard to get in and out of my new car! (Because it's much lower to the ground than I'm used to.) I woke up today after filling my car last night with boxes of clothes to send back east. When I went to the UPS store, however, they weighed the first box and told it would be $30 to ship— at the cheap rate. So, I just threw all the boxes in my storage unit. I'll need to pick up a few shirts when I get to Raleigh, but otherwise I'll be fine. This was a good reminder that I want to keep myself from being weighed down by too many items. Besides, if I pack my car on the last day and have a little extra room, I'll rescue one or two boxes from the storage unit.

Today was the first of my official good-byes. I drove over to Rancho Cucamonga, to the First American production center there, to have a lunch with Mike, Lesley, and David. I had hoped my old boss— also named David— would join us, but he was busy. The four of us had an enjoyable lunch, and I hope Lesley and David will pop up on Facebook soon. (Mike is already one of my friends on FB.) The funny thing is, on the way home I realized that I never cried or even teared up while I was with them. I was going to email them and tell them that, adding that I guess they're just not that important to me anymore as a joke, but I thought better of it. I think it's a funny joke, but I worry that one or more of them will take it wrong.

The rest of the day was a wash. I was so tired when I got home that I napped in the afternoon. On rising I spent some time taking old magazines out to the dumpster. It took me about 10 trips. I found magazines dating back to 1999 in the stacks. Apparently, I am given to saving magazines... Actually, I'm trying to be good about throwing them away in a timely fashion these days. I used to save magazines for all sorts of reasons. Old game magazines I would save just in case there were some tips for a certain game. Of course, I never cracked a single issue afterwards. Old programming magazines got saved because of their articles as well— and went equally unread afterwards. Literary and reporting magazines, like The New Yorker and The Atlantic Monthly, were often saved because I never finished them in the first place. Fortunately, those were cleaned out some time ago.

One of the downsides of all this picking up in my place is that dust is flying everywhere. The AC unit is constantly running, as is a box fan in the door to my bedroom. The dust gets airborne and is then pushed around the house. I had to take a Claritin a few nights ago.

Well, it's late here at Starbucks tonight. I'm going to close this off early. If you're a friend of mine of Facebook, check out the "How well do you know John?" quiz I created. i had fun writing it, and I think you'll have fun trying to answer it.

Back soon!

"No person who can read is ever successful at cleaning out an attic."— Ann Landers

Today's ramble will be brief. I promise.

I got up early-ish this morning and headed out to the storage facility. Last night I packed six small (but heavy!) boxes in the trunk of the car so I'd be ready to go. Naturally, when I got there the manager, Mick, wasn't around to set me up with the new unit. So, I drove down the street and filled up the tank. When I got back, there was another employee there who took care of the paperwork for me.

I was surprised at the rickety-ness of the ascent to the second floor. The stairs were built of wood. I could see gaps in the wood, and every step creaked... loudly. I understand why Mick lets these units out reluctantly— his apartment abuts this area, and it would be annoying to hear people clomping up and down the stairs. That's exactly what I did for an hour— clomp up and down in my heavy boots. I made a racket. In all, it took me 30 trips up and down the stairs to get everything transferred and get the new boxes in place. 16 steps up, 16 steps down, for a total of 960 steps. I was worn out when I finished!

Going on momentum only, I went home and loaded the car with old clothes again, which then went to the landfill. I hope to only have two or three trips back there.

I also bought some shipping boxes, which I plan on packing tonight and shipping tomorrow.

I'm sitting at Starbucks now. I can barely move. It's not that I'm in pain. Rather, I just have no energy left. I plan on going home soon and playing some WoW while by body recuperates. This evening I'll work for a few more hours when it's cooler.

Back soon!

"If I'd known how much packing I'd have to do, I'd have run again."— Harry S. Truman

One Thing Done

The car matter is settled as of today. That's one check point among many.

I got up early again this morning and met Charlotte at the DMV in town. It's a shame I didn't have my camera with me because I wanted to take a picture when I got there. The line out the front door stretched the entire length of the building. As I was there early, I took a place in line and waited for Charlotte to show up, which she did about 10 minutes later. The line moved fast outside the building, and I was half way to the door by the time Charlotte joined me. When we got inside, we explained our transaction to one of the two pre-processing agents. She then gave us a couple forms to fill out. Secretly, I think we surprised and pleased her by having all the expected documents on us.

It took us about 15 minutes to fill out the forms and return them, at which time we were issued a number. We found seats and began our wait, which was about 20 minutes. When they called us we worked with a woman who was an absolute delight. She had a sense of humor and was in a good mood. It really made the DMV experience pleasant. (The pre-processing agent was nice as well.) Our final line was a short one: Charlotte had to show the changed registration documents to pick up the registration tags. All in all, we were out about an hour after we met. Once we filled out the initial forms, I didn't have to be there any longer, but I felt better about staying through the whole process. I hated the thought of leaving Charlotte there to finish the process alone.

So, I started the day by closing the books on my old car, which felt great to accomplish. I'm glad that's done.

Back home, I ate a quick lunch and then started filling big trash bags with old clothes. I'm not sure if I've explained here before, but I hate going to the laundromat. So, for years and years, I accumulated far more clothes than I needed as a way of staving off the laundromat. Today I went through stacks and stacks of clothes, designating some of the clothes to go back east with me and the majority to get thrown out. In all, I filled 6 large trash bags to the point where I could hardly lift them. These I piled into my car and then headed out to the county landfill again.

My second trip to the dump left me even more hesitant to drive my new car out there. I got there late in the day and they were well at work on top of the active landfill. I pulled up to find two huge bull-dozer-like vehicles which were squashing and spreading the day's take. Another tanker truck was driving around spraying water on the dirt and trash. The place reeked and there was a slight wind blowing which instantly coated my car in dust. On the way out, my tires picked up the wet dirt and then proceeded to spray it all over the underside and lower panels of my car as if I were slowly building a daub-and-wattle coating. I had to spray this off when I got home. So much for the wash I gave the car two days ago.

Not sure what to do next, I drove out to the storage unit and bought boxes. They happened to be on sale, which was great. Even better, the manager was there. His name is Mick, and he has always remembered me personally. I think I must have been one of his first customers when he took over the site. We started talking and I explained my situation. Once I told him that I was going to be leaving my items here for another year or so, he offered to move me into a same-sized unit on the second floor. It's only going to cost me $26 a month, versus the $68 I'm paying now. That's a sweet deal... except that I have to haul everything up to the second floor. Fortunately, I'm all about packing lift-able boxes so the change shouldn't be that tough.

Now I'm at Starbucks, having an iced tea to cool myself down. There are two guys at the table next to me, and one of them is a kid who's been yammering non-stop for 30 minutes about all the times he's been arrested. Every other phrase out of his mouth is "my homie" or "cops are dicks". He's one of these 19- or 20-year old kids who thinks he's smarter than the whole system. I wish I was going to be around later in his life to laugh at him.

Well, I guess that's enough of my prattle for today. Back soon!

"If I'd had some set idea of a finish line, don't you think I would have crossed it years ago?"— Bill Gates

Yak, Yak, Yak

I appreciate my friends (and family) who put up with my talking. On the one hand, I am a private person, enjoying my alone time to read or play video games, etc. But, just as much, I enjoy hanging out with friends and talking with them.

This wouldn't be such a problem except that a lot of times I just yak on and on about things that don't matter. Much like this blog, I tend to speak what's on my mind, regardless of how trivial it may be. Pat is the one who puts up with the majority of this. There are times when I leave his house at night and wonder how he put up with me all day. On the other hand, maybe Pat and I are such good friends because we can listen to each other for hours at a time.

I started to think about this over the last few days after spending a few hours with my friends Clayton and Ken. Clayton is notorious in our circle for not talking much, and over the years Ken has also become quieter. I don't know if Ken feels like there's nothing left to say, or what. Sometimes it's impossible to draw him into a conversation regardless of the topics I bring up. Clayton, on the other hand, will readily talk if you find a subject that interests him. Otherwise he clams up.

I don't bring up my friends and their talking habits to embarrass them, but to show how I am different than they are. I hadn't seen Ken or Clayton for some time each so I wanted to talk with them both and catch up. I kept bringing up subject after subject with them, more often with little to no response. I'm sure that I started to annoy them both at some point, with me hopping from topic to topic in seeming desperation. While I acknowledge that good friends can hang out together without having to talk incessantly, I appreciate verbal communication more than I do its absence. To me, not talking is some sort of tacit acknowledgment that there's nothing left to be said.

One of the reasons I do so enjoy being around my friend Laura is that she also enjoys a good conversation. When she and I are together, the conversation flies all day long and ranges over all manner of topics. It's a way of exploring each other, finding out more about each other. To me, that's what friends do. My friend Lee Ann is similar— when we're together we are constantly talking.

How about that for a random topic to lead with?

Nothing much has happened this weekend to report on. I was working in my storage unit yesterday, re-arranging the boxes therein. I'm quite please with the amount of stuff I'll be able to store. While I would rather throw more stuff out, throwing things away is problematic and/or expensive. I'm sure I will make a few more trips to the county landfill with old clothes and other items, but I would like to minimize the number of trips I do so. I will be happy if I can make one trip each morning this week and then call and end to that routine. Since it costs me nothing more to keep my storage unit full versus half full, I plan to store more than I'd originally planned. That will probably cost me another $60 or so in boxes, but that's it. Since it will all be boxed, it should be easy to move it all when the time comes for that.

I'm thinking I will take my current computer with me as well as my most recent two or three previous ones. Because of the lack of space I currently have, I've never cleaned them out or gotten all the data off them that I want. I should be able to clean them up and dispose of them properly in NC. So, my trunk is going to be full of computer equipment as I cross the country. That will leave me the back seat for a suitcase of clothing and a few boxes of books or other items. I don't want to make my car too obvious by over packing it.

My new 'official' departure date is 21 SEP 09. If everything goes as planned, two weeks from this very moment, i should be several hundred miles away, maybe just having gotten a room for the night. By leaving a week early, I can take a few more days for the trip— one or two— and keep a margin for schedule disruptions. Keep your fingers crossed for me.

Back soon!

"I don't mind you thinking I'm stupid, but don't talk to me like I'm stupid."— Harlan Ellison