Mood:
chattyNow Playing: The Andy Griffith Show ("When in Rome...")
Fourteen days ago, my computer was wrapped in bubble wrap and stuck in a big box. In that span of time, much has happened that warrants a rambling observation. I've driven across several states, met scads of new people, acclimated to extreme humidity, unpacked my studio apartment into something a little larger than that, and started a new job. This account will probably just scratch the surface of that whole experience.
There is something ingrained in my nature that makes me nervous when people are doing things for me. I feel weird that the flight attendant has to handle my trash. I don't like valet service. And, as it turns out, having movers carry all your heaviest stuff and load it into a truck, though way more convenient, makes for a bit of an uncomfortable feeling as well.
Mostly because they kept taking all the chairs I kept sitting in. So eventually, I just plopped down on the floor and watched the whole moving process from the dirty spot on the carpet that was once hidden behind my tv stand.
There were three movers, and it occurred to me that their little system was much like that of comic book villains. Take the leader, in this case, we'll call him the Joker. He was the most pleasant mover, or at least had the best English. The man in charge. His "costume" was most ornate, decorated with gold chains and a bit of extra flair. The other two were his henchmen, quiet and dressed alike in the moving company garb, they did all the heavy lifting and the simpler problem solving issues.
After my stuff was loaded, I said goodbye to it and to Illinois, heading east to the homeland for a couple of days. I drove to Charlotte from there, and my furniture arrived a day after I did.
There are many things about my new home that feel a lot like what I'm used to. For instance, many people settled here are actually from West Virginia as well; unlike in Chicago, where I knew of none. Also, there are many trees and I daresay a bit more grass. In fact, one of the trees out front of my building is blooming with clusters of pink blossoms. Not thinking, I parked directly under it for a day or two. Some wind, some rain, and now it looks like a flower girl at a wedding played a terrible prank on me.
With that said, there are some things here that will take some getting used to:
-- There sure are a lot of smokers. Even though cigarettes are upward of seven dollars a pack, there's a lot more lighting up going on than what I saw in Chicago. Maybe it's because so much tobacco is produced in these parts. Maybe if you go to Iowa, everyone there is eating corn all the time.
-- People really use those beer can cozy things, some of which have clever sayings like "Rehab is for quitters" on them. This may be because a) lack of coasters or b) the ridiculous heat renders even the coldest beer warm after just a few minutes outside. While we're on beverages, I'm thirsty 24-7 in this crazy climate. My refrigerator is full of drinks. Seriously, I went to the grocery store the first time and without really thinking, realized I had purchased: Pepsi, beer, and containers of orange juice, apple juice, lemonade and cherry limeade.
I bought a new alarm clock today. I'm not really sure why, because I'll be working night shifts and therefore will probably never really use it again. But I think I needed it to make the bedroom feel like a bedroom. In any event, I had had the same alarm clock since fourth grade. It was a Christmas present from my parents; I had picked it out from Radio Shack because it had a radio and a headphone jack. So I would secretly stay up past bedtime to listen to WVAQ's Top 10 @ 10 every night via headphones. And therefore my worst enemy at 6 a.m. was my best friend at 10 p.m.
In a very sad little ceremony, I shoved my alarm clock in the trash before the move, because the buttons stopped working and I could set the alarm anymore. In any event, I was pretty sure that alarm clock (when it worked) offered me everything alarm clocks offered: wake up to radio, wake up to beeping, fall asleep to radio, listen to radio, battery backup.
And then I picked up a little alarm clock at Target today.
Pardon me if I sound "SO nineties" here, but this thing is more complex than a glorified oven timer should be, I think. I mean this thing isn't even a really expensive model (30 bucks) but... It has two alarm settings (A and B) for regular days, and then another weekend setting that also can remember two times. And when you have it set for weekend, to celebrate, the face turns from an orange light to green. (You can set the backlight to bright or low.) It remembers what time zone it's in and automatically adjusts for daylight savings time. You can wake to beep, some sort of melody or the radio. I'm a little scared.
With my acquisition of this piece of equipment and also a DVR, I may just finally be cool enough for this millennium. Or dorky enough to still sleep in and watch Jeopardy whenever I want.
