tips for moving (learned the hard way)

working too hard can give you a heart attackackackackack

I have moved every summer for the last 10 years--with one sweet exception in college. My considerable consternation with moving has been well documented. I was pretty sure I'd said all I have to say about the matter.

But now the time has come once more for me to cram all of my worldly possessions into boxes and schlep them into my next apartment, and just like clockwork, I want to write about it. I recently noticed that last fall's post Tips for Living in a Tiny Apartment is my 2nd most popular blog post of the year, so I think it's time for a followup. Let's talk moving.


BEFORE YOU PACK

purge
It's time for some dehoarding, whether you're moving across the globe or just across the street. Go through every single object you own and get rid of anything that's damaged or that you don't use. If you're getting rid of a lot of stuff, I suggest throwing a party with a Drunk Thrift Store theme. Ask your guests to bring some booze, and in return invite them to raid designated boxes of your possessions. Everyone will get looped and start putting your clothes on and leafing through your old Seventeen magazines and you'll save yourself a trip to the Goodwill.



plan
Get all of your parking permits and address changes squared away a few weeks before the move, because lord knows you won't have time for anything responsible like that once your life is in boxes.

do all that stuff you've been meaning to do
Over the course of your dehoarding, you no doubt found some things that needed dry cleaning or mending or supergluing. Do it now. While you're at it. clearly mark all of your mostly empty consumables like foods, bath/beauty products, cleaning products, etc. USE ME and do your best to use them up before the move. Whatever you haven't taken care of by your move out date gets chucked--it wasn't important anyway.


WHAT YOU'LL NEED

-lots of packing tape
-new box of garbage bags
-one thousand newspapers (I unscrupulously take stacks of the free ones advertising cars or apartments.)
-a few sharpies
-cleaning supplies set aside for cleaning up at the end
-bags packed with essential clothes, medicine, personal care items that you'll need throughout the move
-all of the boxes. This is the most important part. My favorite boxes for moving are white bankers boxes, because they have tops that fit on without being taped (although I do recommend taping them!) and because it is physically impossible to pack them too heavy. Aside from these priceless gems, never pay for boxes. Get them free off Freecyle or Craigstlist, or at virtually any local store. Liquor stores usually have a zillion boxes.


YAY BOXES


PACKIN ALL YOUR STUFF

start with the least essential stuff
Picture frames, decorations, books, DVDs, off-season clothes, etc. Then handle your kitchen stuff, pantry, and linens--things you'd generally use daily but can live without for a few days. Save your clothes and bathroom for last, since those things are the most disruptive to be without.

label the bejesus out of your boxes
Write the name of the room the box should go in on all four sides of the box so you can see it no matter how it is stacked. Write what's in the box too. When you get there, you can set each box down in the room it belongs in the first time you set it down.



pack smart
-Pack your glasses and other breakables in wine boxes from the liquor store. They come with perfect cardboard dividers.
-Pack your books and other heavies in white bankers boxes or other small boxes. Otherwise they will be too heavy to carry.
-Cushion your breakables with towels and clothes instead of bubble wrap when possible.
-Pack linens and clothes in double-bagged garbage bags. Gather clothes in your closet in groups of 5-10 garments at a time, then pull the garbage bags up over them. Tie the bag at the top around the hangers. Clothes can hang here until they're ready to move. At the new place, you can just hang the clothes up and cut the bags off of them. VOILA your closet is intact!

put everything in a box
You are going to hate yourself if you have to carry a bunch of odds and ends out of your almost empty apartment one at a time. There are going to be things that don't want to fit into boxes--fans and shower caddies and sleeping bags and other randoms. Save a couple of bigass boxes for the very end to throw all of the last-minute stuff into.


MOVIN ALL YOUR STUFF


invite a bunch if people
You cannot have too much help doing this. With two people, it will take two miserable hours to move out. With five or six, it will take half an hour. Bribe them with snacks and beer and the promise of helping them move when their time comes.

load smart
Put the boxes in the truck first and the furniture last. When you get there, get the largest furniture in place before you start moving any smaller items in. Otherwise you could be setting yourself up for a very unpleasant game of 3D Tetris when you try to set your rooms up.

order a pizza
Nothing is better than ordering a pizza the first night in a new apartment. It's good practice for remembering your new address.




Discussion Question:
What are some of your hot tips for moving?

The Chicago and Kansas concert in Boston has been changed to the Kansas and Boston concert in Chicago

I've been here in Boston (well, Cambridge) for two weeks now. I have learned a lot in that time.

-Locals who find Southern accents charming outnumber those who find them off-putting. When I referred to the cashier and bagger at the grocery store as y'all, the bagger cried out Y'all should come back here, okay? and beamed like she'd greeted a native speaker in Spanish.

-You can take the train to Wonderland.


From herrafeliks' Picasa gallery

-Actually, you can take the train almost anywhere. In fact, we've only taken the car out 3 times since we moved here.

-People don't really smile or say hi on the street, but most will smile back if you initiate.

-Everything is more expensive.



-Making new friends is the best part of moving.


stayin sassy

-Autumn is a season that actually happens in some parts of the world. I am wearing long sleeved shirts that I have never worn before.


Look at all those clothes! BONUS: my replacement glasses came!

-Living in the city is complicated. You have to move your car once a month so they can clean the streets. The apartments are tiny. Sometimes the trains close down at weird times or break. In exchange, I get to live within walking distance of virtually anything my heart desires. So far, the tradeoff is working.

-People here are very educated and well-spoken. I have a feeling my competition for jobs is VERY stiff.

-Did I mention that our apartment is tiny?

-Silly art projects do wonders for the job-search grumpies.



-So does chocolate cake. And wine.


big ups to Nico for hosting that wonderful dinner


So what does Cambridge have in store for the DePalmas? Only time will tell. Hopefully gainful employment and eventually a functioning oven. In the mean time, I'm gonna be getting to know this big, weird, cold city.

Discussion Question:
What is the hardest move you've ever made?

instructions for moving far, far away

First, you need a reason to leave.
A new job, a new lover, a new school, or just wanderlust licking
     the soles of your feet.
You will know when it is time to go.

Sometimes it helps to bring someone along with you, or to meet someone there.
     You can meet your lover there, or bring your dog along.
Sometimes it's nice to go alone.

Find a place to live.
Look for a home that feels like vacation, somehow.

You'll need to take all your things off of your shelves and out of your cabinets.
You can get boxes at liquor stores.
You can steal a thick stack of newspapers
     like the free ones that advertise cars
     or the other free ones that advertise local bands
     out of the graffitied plastic racks outside the grocery store.
They are good for wrapping the things that might break.
Only bring what you really need.
You will have to buy the packing tape.

If you are rich, pay someone to pick up all your boxes
     and carry them out of your place
     and load them into a truck
     and drive them to your new city
     and take them
          box by breaking box
     into your new home.

If you are not, you'll need to do these things yourself.
Of course, you can't do it by yourself. Your things are too heavy,
     too many.
Take the friends who rescue you out for pancakes.
Pancakes cost less than movers anyway.

Pay attention to the drive, or the flight, that takes you to your new city.
Remember where the trees start looking different.
You might leave something there.

Get good directions and
     eat breakfast every morning. You are tired.
You are not normal right now.
But take heart--
Soon you'll get there and suddenly you're there.

"Spectacles in the Surf: Seeing and Not Seeing on the DePalma Family Vacation"

"The Atlantic is not my Gulf, that much is true. She's choppier and grittier and colder, less inviting--just, I suppose, as she should be. But she's my ocean now."

I was splashing around knee-deep in the water at Edisto Beach when I composed these lines rather dreamily, dragging my fingers through the surf and squinting in the low sun. I got to But she's my ocean now at exactly the moment a three-foot wave overtook me from behind, knocked me off my feet, and swept my glasses from my face.



I grasped after them wildly as the wave pushed me, limbs akimbo, into shore and then sucked me back out again. I caught nothing but fleeting handfuls of churning water and sand.


they were my favorite pair.

I paid enough attention in grad school to understand the symbolism. No one knew about seeing and not seeing like the ancient Greek tragedians. And no one likes to talk at excruciating lengths about the tensions between seeing and not seeing more than classicists.

Remember Tiresias? The prophet from Oedipus the King and Antigone and Seven Against Thebes and lots of other incredible stories?


Sporting a sexy hipster beard on a Lucanian Red-figured calyx-krater c. 380 B.C

The whole thing with Tiresias was that he was blind, but he was a prophet, a seer. He couldn't see but he could see. Get it? Get it??


Get it???

Tiresias is emblematic of a recurring issue in Greek tragedy: is seeing knowing? Is not seeing not knowing?

As I groped half-blind and sopping for the shore, all I could think of was Tiresias. I knew this had to mean something, my new ocean blinding me. Maybe now I can see?

The only other time I've ever lost my glasses in the sea, they came right back to me, washed up at low tide and rescued by an alert lifeguard. I guess that's why I'm not too worried--they'll come back to me one way or another. And anyway, I had the foresight to bring a spare pair with me this time.



You got me this time, Atlantic. But I hope one day we can be friends.

Discussion Question:
When is seeing knowing? When is not seeing knowing?

* * * * *

This is part two in my series about my August of Camping and Tramping.

one: we're on the road to nowhere
two: "Spectacles in the Surf: Seeing and Not Seeing on the DePalma Family Vacation"
three: miles covered
four: you got a fast car: drivin through the mountains

hell is a half-packed house. pass the packing tape!

I wanna go back to sleep.

To say that things are kind of crazy right now is the understatement of the century. July has seen my bittersweet last day of work at Peachtree Publishers; a wild visit from my beloved Davina; a trip to Missouri to visit my grandmother, great uncle, and wonderful cousins; an incredible experience in North Carolina at Transformus, my first burn, which included serving breakfast to hundreds of people in the woods AND having my car, the Spruce Goose, get stuck in a muddy ditch and only barely survive the subsequent 5 tows out; AND teaching a crazy week-long all-day critical writing class for 14 middle schoolers at Margaret Mitchell House that involved taking a major field trip EVERY DAY.

I am exhausted.

And guess what! The U-Haul arrives tomorrow afternoon!

Remember how we're moving to Boston? Well, now we are actually starting the moving part. We're packing up our stuff, driving it to Nashville Saturday morning, putting it in storage, and taking the month of August off for our Summer of Camping and Tramping, wherein Nick and I make no plans and do whatever we feel like and drive all around and go camping. I cannot wait.

Sadly, there are a whole lot of boxes to be packed and loaded and unloaded before our carefree August begins. Le sigh.

Moving has always made me a little emo. Hence the Modest Mouse. I realized tonight that I always end up doing the same thing when I move: listening to "Gravity Rides Everything" and writing about how much I hate to move. So I have unearthed some of my emo scribblings about the trials of moving over the last decade or so for your enjoyment.


MAY 2003: Moving out of my dorm room (and temporarily to Davina's house) and into my first apartment
TRAUMA: My suitemate "broke up" with me--i.e. told me she didn't want to be friends anymore.

MAY 14, 2003--the room is emptying itself gradually. boxes have been lugged endlessly and we've almost purged ourselves of this year. and in a very real way. in the cleaning of the suite, one of my suitemates decided that our friendship belongs out in the dumpster behind new res* with the discarded magazines and ill-fitting jeans, things too heavy or not worth moving to a new place...

moving out last year found me in the same place - sitting in my empty dorm room, listening to modest mouse** and crying quietly to myself at the prospect of time in franklin. taking on new things is easy for me - it's giving them up that sucks. this has been a really marvelous year for me despite all the infinite drama.

this morning, i was staring at a pile of clothes that didn't fit me anymore. i could not bear to get rid of them despite the fact that i would never wear them again. ashley said to me, "katie, you never throw ANYTHING away." this statement has rung true for me all day.
*new res = New Residential Hall, now Carrollton Hall, my dorm at Loyola. No one thought New Rez was a weird name for a dorm and we were all sad when it got a real name.
**bonus! according to livejournal, I was listening to "Gravity Rides Everything" as I wrote this entry.

MAY 15, 2003--My sophomore year of college has been drained to the dregs. Last night was a true-blue disaster*...I sat in my spot on Steph’s stripped bed and looked around that room for the last time. I couldn’t help but stare hard at the wake left by four girls who can’t wait to move away from one another...I just wonder how I’ll feel when I read this in a year or two.**
*I still think true-blue disaster is a great turn of phrase. To my dismay, it appears 132 other times on the internet so I can't claim it.
**according to livejournal, I was listening to "Trailer Trash" by Modest Mouse when I wrote this entry.


MAY 2006: Moving out of my apartment in Texas after my first year of grad school
TRAUMA: Facing the end of the hardest year of my life and reckoning with the idea that I had to go back the next fall

Not very much has changed. Three years ago at around this time, I was having a smoke and ljing about my awful move out of New Res. Now I'm having a smoke and ljing about my awful move out of Villa Solano. I hate moving. Particularly moving out. Moving in is kind of fun, actually. I just want to be FINISHED - have all this shit moved out of here and get in the car and just RUN - run away from Austin and this life that has treated me so strangely....

Steve's been very retrospective about this year, and I am all whateva whateva. I don't think I am ready to digest this year yet - I just need to get out of here and clear my head and rest for a while....Too much thinking for tonight. Time to sleep for about twelve seconds before the packing resumes.


JULY 2008: Moving from Texas to Atlanta
TRAUMA: Moving across the country.

I'm sitting looking around my apartment half-packed and there's trash everywhere and stuff all over the floor. I have to get all of this packed up and ready to drive out of town on Saturday morning. I'm leaving for Atlanta and it's really starting to set in. It's so weird to be leaving Austin even though I knew all along that this was a temporary engagement and that I was only gonna be in Austin for a little while which is really bizarre. Nick and I use to say to each other almost every day oh my God we live in Texas and it was so weird and now we're like oh my God we're leaving Texas this is so weird.... I should stop rambling but I just seem like I need to record this feeling. This sort of like half-packed, unsettled, weird feeling, having said my goodbyes but not yet being out of town.*
*If this reads a little funny, it's because this is transcribed from a livejournal voice post, where I did spoken blogs.


* * *

Soooooo...I'm sitting here looking around my half-packed apartment and feeling kind of emo and weird. Not very much has changed. In the same place as always, listening to Modest Mouse and trying to digest the upheaval. I'm ready to just be packed and finished so I can just run away from Atlanta and this life here that has treated me so strangely. I'll miss my dear friends, especially my Lanier, but four 500+ mile moves have taught me that we'll see each other again and keep in touch. I'm not throwing them out with the truckload of stuff I'm taking to Goodwill. I collect friends like owls everywhere I go. I'm hearing Ashley's voice in my head: Katie, you never throw anything away. In a way, was it a compliment?

I just wonder how I'll feel when I read this in a year or two.

Too much thinking for tonight. Time to sleep for about twelve seconds before the packing resumes.

Discussion Question:
Not really a question, just a topic. Discuss how much moving sucksss

non-rhoticity, six-foot snows, and boiled dinner

I am a Southerner, born and bred. Here some examples of things I like about the South:


the promise of a warm summer night

Bourbon Street at night, New Orleans, 1945 by Hugh Morton


drunk gossipy ladies

if you don't have anything nice to say, come sit next to me!


deep-fried food

food prepared the way the good lord intended


Sadly, in a few months I will be bidding adieu to my sweet Southern homeland. Why on Earth would I do such a thing? Because Nick and I are moving to Boston this fall. Nick got into MIT's Media Lab for his graduate studies. Because he is amazing.


Local attractions in Boston include:


non-rhotic accents

you have to check out this linguistic toy, which allows you to hear a Boston accent pronounce various words


blizzards

I mean because this seems reasonable


boiled dinner

The wikipedia entry on the Cuisine of New England tells me that Yankees eat this stuff when they're not eating Boston Cream Pie and McLobster sandwiches



WHAT HAVE WE GOTTEN OURSELVES INTO



Discussion Question:
Tell me things about Boston that will get me excited to move there.