Tag Archives: moving

I’m Done!

Hello Dear (and few) Readers. It will be exactly one month tomorrow since my last post. Well, I won’t let it get that far gone. Let’s not go crazy here.

Anyway! The point to this post is to allow you all to know that I have made the move in one (almost one) piece. It was a bit crazy there for a bit, but all has worked out. My roommate and I are still working out some kinks here and there with cleaning some things up a bit (her bathtub faucet – years of lime and such are just caked on) and deciding how to work others (the dish washer – it’s OLD).

So, (hopefully) I’ll be back to writing on a more regular basis and will keep you posted on things! …. I’ll also add some pictures of the place. Some nondescript pictures. You know the kind. ūüėČ
It’s a cute little storybook house. We love it!

Until tomorrow, my dears.

Round ‘Em Up

So, I am moving from my apartment to a house. I have been SUPER busy packing, moving, and watching some One Tree Hill the last couple of days and haven’t really taken time to blog. Well, here we go. I’ve decided to share three blog posts that have to do with me moving – in one way or another.

One will be about why I’m moving. One will be about the move. One will be about getting settled.

Blog #1: A Rant to a Bad Neighbor by Rants from Mommyland

This woman is hysterical. I’ve never really looked at “Mommy Blogs” before – and I have none to compare – but this blog makes my day.
Back to my point here. In the above rant, this woman basically sums up why I’m moving. Crappy, no-good, disrespectful neighbors.

Blog #2: Moving Locations like the Homeboy’s Shopping Network by Sweet Bonita Marie

Again, this post made me laugh because it is exactly what I am going through. My mind is trying to think of everything all at once and it is getting a little exhausting. I’m having trouble just deciding what I’ll need for the rest of this week and packing things that I won’t.

Toilet paper … keep until the last day.
Shampoo … keep until the last day.
Nail polish … keep – wait, what?! No. Put it in that box marked “Random Crap” and move it on out.

Blog #3: When Lighting a Candle by Candid Kay

The neighborhood that I am moving into is a nice one. Just after signing all the paperwork, our (my roommate and me … hello Sarah!) landlord gave us the low-down on the block. Who we could say hi to (everyone), who’s house not to park in front of for too long (the one right across the street), and if we should ever get yelled at for crossing the street (the woman with a mental disorder) to just wave and apologize with a smile.

This blog Рnoted above Рdescribes a great neighborhood. One that helps one another  out.

So, cheers to these three blogs for helping me with this move. Knowing that I’m not the only one out there with these problems, or whatever you want to call them, I feel better about this move that we’re doing.

Thanks for reading fellow bloggers! It’s been real!

Before You Decide to Move, Think.

When you decide to move for the first time, out on your own, you have so much going on in your mind. You think, this is going to be great. Nothing will go wrong. What can go wrong?

A lot. A lot can go wrong and here’s just one example: incompatible neighbors.

I am moving.

Why, you ask? Because I cannot take my downstairs neighbors. I’ll explain everything in just a minute, but first I’ll go back to the beginning.¬†

When I first moved into my apartment, our neighbors at that time were a little loud. They would slam the doors and make the whole hose shake. I could deal with this because they mostly we a quiet little family. One day things progressed and to end a long story, they were forced to move.

Then there was about four months of peace and quiet. FOUR MONTHS! No television noise coming from below, no yelling, no children crying, and everything in between. Peace. And. Quiet. For four whole months. I got used to it.

IMG_6227[Photo provided by personal collection]

Fast forward to¬†two-thirty on a¬†November¬†morning. It’s two days after a family moves in downstairs. I am woken from my much needed sleep to the sound of what I can only understand as rap. *Now I have no mind about rap music if that’s the thing you’re into, I just don’t want to be woken up by it* I try to fall asleep thinking maybe they didn’t mean to have the music on at such a volume. Nope. Thirty minutes later >> cut to me putting a hooded sweatshirt on over a t-shirt and basketball shorts and slipping into my moccasins (I looked a hot mess>let me tell you). I then bang on the back door of the neighbor’s because they cannot hear me¬†at the front¬†with the music so loud.¬†

Man: *hiding behind the door* What do you want?
Me: Hi. I’m from upstairs and your music woke me up.
Me: Could you turn off the bass or turn the music down or even shut is off. My roommate and I work pretty early and we can’t sleep with such loud music.
Woman: *walking in from another room* Sorry about that. We didn’t know the music was so loud. [um, how could you not?]
Me: Yeah. I just need sleep. The music startled me awake.
Man: Yeah. We’ll keep it down. Sorry
Me: Thanks.

Now, you’d think that would be that. . . . . NOPE! One other time I’ve had to ask them to turn it down because my roommate couldn’t study for her classes.

Also, our neighbors are smokers! Yay us. Not only do they decide to smoke like a freight train, but they smoke illegal substances as well. Hmmmm … have a mentioned that they have a daughter? Yeah.
Needless to say, smoke has arisen and now it smells as though my roommate and I sit and smoke four packs each per day in our apartment. *side note: we are NOT smokers* Our air fresheners and deodorizers won’t even help.

Also, I’m pretty they have a Running of the Bulls training session at least once a week. Little herds of children running and running and running. All. Day. Long.

So, we are moving. Away from loud, inconsiderate, and [possibly illegal] smokers. Into a house. A place where we don’t have to worry about same-home-neighbors. A larger space for just $75 more? Sign me up.

So think before you move out of your parent’s cozy place and into a place of your own. It’s not just¬†an easy decision. It takes planning and waiting. And planning and more waiting. Good luck!

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