Gentlemen, Start Your Engines!

We decided to drive to Portland instead of fly out. This is for several reasons: 1) shipping cars across the country is expensive (like $2000) 2) we suspected Oliver (our cat) might not like air travel too much, and 3) we thought it would be therapeutic for us, you know, like a rite of passage or something like that.

It just so happens that some of our family lives in strategic locations so that we could drive for about 10 hours west/northwest each day, and then could stop and stay without having to pay for hotel rooms. So, after packing up our house we set out to our first destination, a short visit with my Grandma who lives in Oklahoma. It was a short, uneventful visit with one exception. As we were driving through Arkansas (somewhere between Little Rock and Fort Smith) we passed a chicken truck on the highway. It looked like this:

It was kind of crazy, I mean, I guess I just never really thought too much about how my food gets transported, but it is wild and a little unsettling to see that many chickens crammed together. It definitely makes me glad I only eat free range chicken & eggs, and also makes me re-think whether I should become a vegetarian (something that's been on my mind lately).

Sidenote: Justyn thinks I would be an excellent vegetarian, because I get so grossed out by raw or undercooked meat. I can't even go to the meat counter at the grocery store, and really don't enjoy eating meals where the food resembles any sort of living thing (even fish). I even have a problem with eggs from time to time...I know... it's weird. It's not a cruelty thing at all, it's something else... just can't put my finger on it. Portland is supposed to be a very "veggie-friendly" city, so maybe I'll think about that some more.

Anyway... the chicken. We pulled into the left lane to pass the chicken truck and this is what we saw:

Okay, I have a small confession. This is NOT what we saw. I, being the passenger at that particular time, did not have easy access to the camera, so I stole this picture from some other guy's blog, who apparently saw something quite similar and has cat-like reflexes so he managed a picture. (I don't know him, and I've never read his blog but I figured I should link to it just to be honest). What we actually saw was quite a bit more dramatic - the chicken was out of its cage about 5-6 levels up, and it was facing outward so we could see the look of distress on its beak. It was squawking like crazy, and I'm pretty sure it wasn't saying "I'm FREE!!" Anyway, apart from that, I found Arkansas, Oklahoma, and Kansas to be quite uninteresting.

The most interesting thing in Kansas was in a little town called Sedan, where the main attraction is an actual yellow brick road. We didn't stop (there was no time, and we thought it best to get out of Kansas as soon as possible) but I found this picture on the Sedan, Kansas website:

I don't know about you, but that picture makes me glad I didn't stop.

The only other thing that happened in Sedan is that we stopped for gas and the owner of the gas station talked Justyn into buying some homemade hot sauce made from Carribean red peppers. Justyn is a sucker for hot sauce, and likes to support the little guy.

Next stops: Colorado & Utah. Those states were SO incredibly beautiful they deserve their own post, so until next time...

Moving Companies Suck, part II

So, after the packing drama from the previous day, we really didn't know what to expect when the actual movers showed up. The driver of the truck was stoned, I think...his eyes were all glazed over and and partially crossed. He reminded me of Brian Wilson... like maybe he did so many drugs in his younger days that he was permanently high or something. But he could drive an 18-wheeler like a mo fo and I guess that's what's important.

Anyway, the movers were actually way better than the packers, though it still took way longer than we expected. The only real drama on this day was that the packers from the previous day had left a bunch of random stuff laying around, and they had told us, "oh, don't worry. The guys tomorrow can take care of that." And of course when the movers came they were like, "Uh... we don't have any boxes or anything for that stuff..." Otherwise it was pretty smooth on that end of things (little did we know what we were in for on the other end!)

So, as soon as everything was loaded onto the truck, we took off to go pick up our new car (having previously sold our other 2 vehicles). Then all we had between us and the west coast was the open road!

The moving company told us the delivery estimate was 7-10 days... not bad in my opinion. As part of our agreement, we had to be immediately available as early as the 7th day in case they called for delivery. But, we were also told that we would have the driver's cell phone #, and we would get updates along the way so we could plan accordingly. Incidentally, we never did get the guy's cell #... one of many broken promises (amongst many other broken personal belongings). So, we grabbed Oliver the orange monster and hit the road, planning to stop and stay with family along the way. (Don't worry, I'll blog about our road trip later.)

My dad and evil stepmother (who's really not evil at all) happened to be on a cross-country road trip this summer in their RV, and happened to be in Salt Lake City the same night we were. So we decided to shack up with them for a couple of nights, and then get back on the road to meet our delivery deadline. After Salt Lake City, they were going up to Yellowstone which we really wanted to do also, but there was no time. So we parted ways, and about 8 hours later we got a phone call from the moving company that our stuff was going to be delayed at least another 4-5 days.

The reason we were given was "mechanical difficulties", which to me means they found someone else who wanted to move and they wanted to combine the trucks to save themselves some cash. The worst thing about it, is that by this time we were seriously having some laundry issues (and by "issues" I mean it was all dirty). Luckily, we had pre-rented an apartment in Portland that was just waiting with our name on it, so we figured we'd go ahead and scope it out, and sleep on the air mattress for a few days. No big deal, right? Wrong.

We arrived in Portland, found our apartment, and went to check it out. But whoa, Goldilocks. It was way too small. (More details on the apartment fiasco to come in a later post also.) Suddenly, there we were, homeless, jobless, and alone. So we got a hotel room, dropped off the cat, and started the mad dash to finding another place to live. Suddenly it seemed quite serendipitous that our furniture was delayed...

We finally found a new apartment and the movers finally came, 5 days later than planned. We had already notified the moving company of our new address, and when I did so, I said, "there are some additional stairs that we weren't aware of...is there an extra charge for that?" and she said "no, there's no extra charge for stairs." Great. Perfect. All is well.

The truck driver had a different opinion, and it just so happened this was one of the few 95+ degree days in Portland, and there was a lot of "hemming and hawing" about 2 extra flights of stairs (which, by the way, were all outside, which in my opinion is easier than trying to maneuver inside a building when there are walls and stuff you can hit, but I guess what I think doesn't matter too much). The driver stands there shaking his head and says "I'm going to have to call this in." So it turns out they want to charge us $200 extra labor for the stairs. Well at this point they haven't unloaded any of our stuff, so we tell them we'll work it out later, and let's just get everything off the truck. Once again, Justyn helped them move everything off the truck, which they admitted NO ONE ever does. But do we get any credit for that? No... just good karma, I guess.

Remember how the packers forgot to box up the bathroom and hall closets before we left our house? Yeah. We came across a box that looked like this:

Hmm...that doesn't look good, right?

Ewww.

And so we opened it and Ta Da!

Yes, friends... those are glass bottles banging around with a metal trash can, full of liquids, unwrapped, unpadded, leaking onto my brand new shower curtain.

Not to mention we found about 25 boxes labeled "Misc Items".which of course all got dropped in the living room because we didn't know what was in them. WTF? (Thanks Darell and Darell. You guys were awesome, and my life has been so much richer since you came into it.)

So, to keep a long story from being longer... we ended up with an antique wooden box that was cracked into 2 pieces, a Salvador Dali woodcut print with a hole punched through the mat, among many other things. Oh, and guess what? If you don't have receipts, don't even think about making a claim for the damages.

The moral of the story, here, kiddies, is that moving companies don't care about your shit. No one cares about your shit because it's your shit, not theirs. Pack your own stuff, and rent a freaking U-Haul.

Moving Companies Suck, part I

We have some friends that moved from Los Angeles to Nashville several years ago, and they were all, "You should definitely hire movers. It is totally worth it."

So after some intense discussion, we decided it was a good plan. In typical Stephanie style (because I am a research freak - a 'knowledge junkie', if you will), we held interviews with a few moving companies, evaluated pros and cons of each, and decided to go for it. And, because we don't like to do things "halfway", we decided to go for broke and have them PACK our stuff also.

Now, I was not aware that such a service existed, until our friends (previously mentioned) suggested it. They said, "It's great! Everything gets a tag, and you know what's in every box, you get a list of all your stuff, it's awesome! And you don't have to DO anything!" So considering all the other things we had to worry about, we figured it was probably worth it.

WELL... let me start by saying our house is small. 2 bedrooms, 1 bath, only 1300 square feet. See, isn't it cute?? Want to buy it??

The lady at the moving company said it might take all day for them to pack, but probably not since it's such a small house. So around 9:00 AM on the morning of the scheduled packing, 2 guys (which heretofore shall be known as Darrell and his other brother Darrell) show up to start the dirty work. It was bizarre. I mean, to have people going through your stuff, you know? And you're suddenly wondering if you have anything weird laying around that you should have packed yourself that might be... incriminating or embarassing in some way. But then Justyn (the hubby) says, "They do this all day long. They don't care about our crap. Don't worry, it'll be fine."

Anyway, to get to the point: it took ALL DAY. I mean ALL day. Not to mention the fact that Justyn had to basically pack up the entire garage on his own because the Darrells didn't know how to handle all those "fancy" tools. At around 6:00 PM, they were finally wrapping up, filling out paperwork, etc. so I decided to do a final walk-through. And I realize that there are random objects still sitting around: kitchen rugs, my deflated exercise ball, a set of dumbbells, our cordless phone, etc. So I walk down the hall and open the hall closet (a.k.a. the "junk" closet) and BAM! it's still full of crap. Then I go in the bathroom and BAM! everything is still in the shower, linen closet, medicine cabinet, you name it. The room was untouched. So I go up the to head packer (Darrell #1) and I'm like "So, what about the hall closet and the bathroom? " And you know what he says? He says, "Oh, my bad, you know... I didn't even think to look in there."

WHAT? Come again? Isn't it their job to pack up all our stuff? Why am I the one doing the walk-through and seeing this stuff? Why aren't THEY going around to make sure they didn't forget anything? So the Darrells run out to the moving truck and grab 2 huge boxes, and proceed to basically dump everything from the bathroom into one, and the hall closet into another. *Mental Note: those will be fun to unpack.*

So anyway, they finally finish up, and ask us to sign all this paperwork, which basically has a list of all the boxes, and what's in each box. Well, we don't know what's in each box... I mean, we didn't pack it. Isn't that the point? Oh, and then Darrell #1 says, "You need to fill out this form stating all your high value items (worth more than $100 per pound)" and on the form is a place for you to put the box #. Well, again... we don't know what's in the boxes, so then Justyn and I and the Darrells spend like 45 minutes trying to figure out which boxes have artwork in them. Good times.

I guess I'll have to talk about the actual movers in another post. This turned into more of a venting session than I anticipated. Sorry.

And So It Begins...

Hi Everyone!

This is my new blog. I have never blogged before... only once as a guest blogger on my BFF's baking blog. So, please be patient while I learn the ropes...

About a month ago, my husband and I decided to both quit our jobs and move 2,351 miles across the country from Tennessee to Oregon, leaving all our family and friends to explore a new part of the country, and a new part of our lives. This blog is an effort to help me cope with the life change, and to talk about some of the differences between the west coast and the south. As part of this change, we're also trying to become healthier and more active, so I'll talk about that stuff, too.

I'm not making any guarantees that my life's pursuits will always be interesting, or that my opinions will always be politically correct. But I hope you enjoy reading, and hopefully it will help me get through this crazy time in my life.