|Posted on November 4, 2011 at 7:05 PM||comments (0)|
Moving sucks all manner of suckable things, be they balls, taints or other nether-parts. We moved recently from a smallish, outdated place to a newer, more modern joint and it was fuckin' awful from the first trip to the U-Haul store right down to the last picture hung on the freshly painted walls.
There are a few universal truths when it comes to moving whether you are migrating across the country or moving next door.
1. You have too much shit.
It doesn't matter if you make a dozen trips to Goodwill and have the mother of all garage sales first, you will still have too much stupid, heavy, why-in-the-name-of-the-Flying-Spaghetti-Monster-do-we-have-this, shit. When you make that first exploratory journey through your closets and under your bed in order to get an idea of how many boxes you need, just go ahead and quadruple that final estimate. Double that number for every kid you have. I figured on four big boxes (3'x3'x3') and three small ones (1.5'x1.5'x1.5'). Now granted, that was just to get started. I knew I'd have to get at least a couple more, but I assumed that the majority of stuff would fit in those and the various plastic storage containers we had lying around. Oh, hell no. A dozen of the big ones later (the small ones are completely worthless) and I was immediately unpacking them at the new place so that I could take them back across town and re-use them right away.
Simplify?! I need ALL of it!!
2. The new place is goddamn gross.
Our new place received a fresh coat of paint and spankin' new carpet before they handed over the keys. The entire building is only 5 years old so how bad could it be, right? During the final walk-through with the manager I looked in the drawers, inspected behind the toilet and peered into every cabinet. Yup, clean as a whistle. Only not. It wasn't until we were in the middle of the unpacking phase that we found dried up bits of food and cat hair hidden throughout the kitchen. I pulled the stove out and was greeted by what I assume the inside of a back-alley abortion clinic's dumpster must look like. That may be an exaggeration but screw you, I have a visceral reaction to other people's filth. It doesn't matter if you don't want the first thing you do at the new digs to be decontaminating it, it's gonna be.
Let's de-filth this fucker
3. You need more help
I grossly misjudged the amount of work involved in our simple relocation. My plan was to pack up the crap we didn't need over the course of two weeks, move what I could on my own on Friday, get a friend to help with the heavy stuff on Saturday, unpack on Sunday and clean up at the old place on Monday. Solid Plan. Also complete fantasy. Luckily, I had help packing up the kitchen on Friday – a job I had planned on spending less than an hour doing. It took her about 4 hours which means it would have taken me at least 8. I had promised the friend that helped with the heavy stuff that we would be done in 3 or 4 hours – again 8. I spent Sunday hauling oddball bullshit in my car because I had to give the truck I borrowed back and Sunday night was spent scrubbing any remnants of us away at the old place so that the carpet could get shampooed first thing Monday morning since the asshole landlord had failed to inform me that we had to be out by noon on the 31st.
Apparently we lived at a hotel for four years
Aside from the actual physical labor involved in moving everything you own from one place to another, there is something deeply unsettling about moving. I think it's because, at least for a brief moment or two, you're homeless. Even if you're moving into the apartment next door, the period of time that it takes to move your bed is exactly how long you will have no place to lay down and relax. That's the kind of thing that messes with a person on a very basic and primal level.
If you're reading this, there is a 100% chance that you will have to move at some point and no matter how much you plan ahead, it'll be a ball-gargling good time. Unless you're a WiFi squatting vagrant with a stolen laptop, in which case enjoy your simple, entanglement-free life you cheater.
Somebody has it all figured out
|Posted on October 24, 2011 at 3:45 PM||comments (1)|
Marriage is an odd thing. After being married for close to five years, my ex-wife and I were having cocktails with some friends when someone asked when we were going to get hitched. "We got married in '98," was our response. "I thought you were just living together," came the reply. We both had a strange moment of clarity when, simultaneously, we realized that legally binding ourselves together was completely unnecessary. All the trouble we went through to make our relationship official and these people, who we knew fairly well, never stopped to consider that we were doing anything other than fornicating this whole time. Then what was the goddamn point of the rings, the dress, the ceremony, the honeymoon…. actually, scratch the honeymoon one. Marriage does make it more of a pain in the ass to break up with someone, but if you and that special person share a mortgage, checking account, children or if only one of you knows where the freakin' stapler is then splitting up is going to be a bitch regardless of whether you file your taxes "joint" or "separate."
By some estimates (which I totally did not make up), 41% of first marriages, 60% of second marriages and 73% of third marriages end in divorce. Aside from putting the whole "practice makes perfect" theory to bed, this means that the more spouses you burn through, the less likely it is that you'll ever get that fairy tale ending. Three of my friends got married within a year of my wife and me. Two of them are on their second marriage and the other one is currently looking for the third Mrs. Him. The idea of getting married even once seems ridiculous to me now, but the fact that these fellas are willing to do it over and over means that they're either suffering from Stockholm Syndrome or experienced some type of massive brain trauma. I have nothing against the gals they tricked into marrying them, it's just that I would rather be water boarded than have to learn to navigate a new person's bizarre habits and personality ticks.
Marriage means betting half your stuff that you'll love someone forever
I liked being married. It's nice to have a beautiful someone to talk to, complain about relatives and unite against common enemies with. I don't regret getting married to her but I wouldn't have loved her any less if we had just been living together for the last 13 years. We were a pretty good match for each other, at least as good of a match as two people with drastically different upbringings can be. My ex-wife feels the same way about matrimony. In fact, one of her favorite games involves harassing bachelorette parties when we're at the bar. She'd go on a tirade about how stupid it is to get married until, inevitably, the bride-to-be noticed that she and I are both wearing wedding rings. "But you're married," the bachelorette will argue. "Yeah, but not to him," my wife would respond, pointing to me. As far as I was concerned, the only way I was ever going to be single again was if I was widowered after my wife has a tragic logging accident (which would be suspicious since she worked in an office) or if she finally got that call from Ryan Reynolds asking her to run away with him.
I'm on to you, Reynolds
The overall silliness of having a priest/preacher/minister/rabbi/whatever officiate over a pagan ritual that joins two people together in a legal union really makes me wonder what all the fuss is about when it comes to letting gays do it. The biggest threat to the health of any marriage comes from the people in it, not the husband and husband next door. I'm no mathematician, but doesn't gay + gay = fabulousness squared? All you religious enthusiasts should keep in mind the words of philosopher Daniel Tosh – Just because it's legal doesn't mean God's gonna let 'em into Heaven. Modern marriage is a joke anyway, if it wasn't there wouldn't be game shows based on it. Getting married used to be a way to force two warring factions into cooperating with one another, it's more like "Going Steady: Extreme Edition" these days.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to see if I can locate the next future ex-Mrs. me.
|Posted on July 27, 2011 at 6:25 PM||comments (0)|
I have two daughters, 11 and 6, and I wrote down some of the strange things that came out the mouth of my youngest before she started kindergarten. Enjoy the wisdom of a crazy person:
About her older sister – “She’s from the planet Z-Tard.”
After deciding (apropos of nothing) that one of her sister’s friends at school is imaginary and probably a pirate with an eye patch -“I bet she swabs the poop deck” (then laughs hysterically)
(In a sing-song voice) “She wants to give them ‘Muchas Smooches’” – Referring to her sister and the Jonas’ Brothers
After seeing her mom’s bra in the bathroom –“What are Mommy’s boobs DOING on the FLOOR?!?!” (clearly upset)
“I bet they would like you in there” – To her mom after we drove past a prison.
Trying to rap – “Fricka fricka YEAH!”
Upon seeing yellow snow –“Either someone dropped their butter or a dog peed there”
“You know when people are vampires and they turn into bats; what happens to their clothes?”
“If you get mad at me one more time, I’m gonna put on my warm clothes and go to China”
“I challenge you to a game of ‘Hi Ho Cherry Oh’, and if I win then that means that I can see soap in the dark.” (This was absolutely and completely random)
In the shower – “My butt feels like burning fire” Me – “Is the water too hot?” “No, I just have a ROCKET BUTT!!” (Then jumps straight up)
After a fairly decisive Candy Land victory – “I WON, I WON, I WON!! …….. Oh, sorry. I said ‘I won’ three times and that’s bragging. But, I did win.” (I wonder if yelling it only twice is acceptable.)
To a poor woman at the mall who was trying to pretend that she didn’t see the little blonde maniac trying to befriend her - “Hey lady, I waved at you!!!”
“If you’re ever in the woods, you have to be careful of squirrels. Cuz if you get too close to one they can skunk you and you’ll have to take a ketchup shower.” – So close and yet so far.
“Does this hat go with my awesomeness?” – Such a modest child
“You know what people in Texas drive? Horses…… I guess they don’t like buying gas.”
Her - “How far do we have to drive?”
Me - “Just a block or so.”
Her - “How far is a block?”
Me - “Half as far as two blocks and twice as far as half a block.”
Her - “AAHHHH!!!! That doesn’t make any sense!! That’s like teaching a boy how to swim by drownding him!!!” (And yes, she said drownding, not drowning)
Her - "Dinosaurs died 'cause they ate all the trees."
Me - "How's that now?"
Her - "Dinosaurs eat trees and trees make air, so, when the dinosaurs ate all the trees they couldn't breathe anymore and that's how they all died. Got it?"
Me - "Loud and clear."
Her Big Sister - "Oh. My. God."
"If everyone was the same, the world would be boring. I mean, we would all have the same ideas and no one would ever invent a new way to make a cake. Cake is what makes the world go 'round."
"Are hotdogs made at a weinery?"
"What kind of candy do you think a super-villian eats?"
"If Chloe got bited by a vampire she would turn into a vampard. That's a retarded vampire, in case you were wondering."