And I ain’t gonna do that…

We have seen a ton of cool birds (I had to chase some away from our bird feeder that were almost as tall as me). I can’t name them all yet but there are cranes, vultures, pelicans, and some funky-sounding ducks that fly by every morning and evening. We even have a resident gator that suns himself most days in the pond across the street (yes, the same one I fish in…doh!)

We have been surprised by how uninsulated this house is. Further proof that just because it’s beautiful doesn’t mean it’s functional. Earlier in the month we found ourselves cranking the fireplace to warm our hands, saying to ourselves “Um, didn’t we just drive many, many miles to get away from this crap?” And yet most days we open up the front door and the rear sliders and let the breeze blow in.

A little while ago I made up another batch of lemonade, using fresh lemons from our tree out back. Right now the tree is totally full, and we get new ones that fall to the ground every night. Next to it is the lime tree which has been blossoming, creating an incredibly sweet smell that attracts more flying creatures than we can count. A few more months and hopefully there will be homemade lime pie in our future. Or at least some type of lime-flavored frozen drink. When I go on my jogs, I have been stopping at an orange tree that is on the edge of the golf course to bring back a fresh orange each time.

Damn.

But of course we had to get here first, and this is the chronicle of that trip.

We got up early on Dec 30th. And I do mean ‘early’. I remember when we were younger and we were more likely to stay UP until this time of the morning…not WAKE up at this time.

The house was pretty sparse at this point. We spent the last few nights on a futon mattress on the floor of our bedroom. It was like a dorm, but without the pizza and beer stains.

We had both cars stuffed. With all the plants we had in there they looked like a couple of greenhouses. I also had all the fish and their water. I can’t even imagine the kind of ride they had.

Oh…and I had the cats too. I was looking at three straight hours of frantic mewing at the start of each day, but I didn’t know that yet. Yee haw!

And away we go. A balmy 30 degrees out.

Since it was dark out for a while, taking pics was impossible. There wasn’t any good daylight until we got close to NYC. For a second I thought this said “BUCKNER Exp”…like “Great, they named a damn road after poor Billy B”.

I forget but I think this was in fact the George Washington bridge. All I know is there were enough dips and potholes and other goodies to qualify this part of the drive as an amusement park ride. The fishies were NOT amused.

Warming up…now 37…HAHAHAHAHA!

I think this was some industrial area in Jersey.

And this one makes total sense to me…a non-descript, huge-ass freezer facility, no doubt conveniently located near some historic Mafia dumping grounds. Hmmm…

Never been to Atlantic City. Not sure I really care either. But we both agreed when we finally got to our new home that if we ever did this drive again, we would take more time and check out some places along the way.

Welcome to Delaware…the Cut Your Ass Off In Traffic state. Thanks buddy…do me a favor and STAY THE F UP HERE!!!

Welcome to Maryland…sorry, can’t stay!

These cranes reminded me of those AT-AT walkers from Star Wars.

And from this same pic, if you look to the right the sign that is cut off says something that was very common up North…”Last Exit Before TOLL”! The general pattern we saw was that the roads in the North sucked, and you had to pay to use them. The roads in the South were beautiful, and free. I like this pattern. We have yet to see a pothole down here.

Makin’ progress…ass is hurtin’.

I’m at a loss on this one. Is that thing even street-legal? Something tells me if I stopped them and asked, I’d get shot.

I bet one of the reasons some people can tend to be so grumpy is that they get raised in towns with dumb-ass names. Scaggsville…WTF is that? Talk about developing a complex.

Virginia is for lovers. And traffic. This area turned out to be the worst part of our adventure. Traffic was awful. Dangerous too. We’d be doing 70, and then BAM…20. Or a dead-stop. One of those times is when I had to brake a bit too hard, and stuff behind me went flying, including one of the fish buckets. Luckily the fish stayed inside. And why did we screech to a halt? Because there was a cool-looking building on the left just off the highway. No shit. People saw that and slowed down. Dumb-asses. DON’T SLOW DOWN LIKE THAT ON A FREAKIN’ HIGH-SPEED HIGHWAY!!!

This is us cruising by the capital. Yes, that speck is the Monument.

A while after this we had had enough and pulled off to escape the insanity. And ran into more insanity. This was exit 156 in Dale City. We just wanted some gas and some food, but it was zoo-city, and all the food places specialized in deep-fried crap. Or they had Spanish-sounding names we couldn’t pronounce. I swear it was like we entered the Twilight Zone. As I was writing this trip report, I was looking up info on the shopping plaza we went into, and one of the first results was “Man Stabbed in Dale City’s Ashdale Plaza”. Great. It even mentioned a homeless camp nearby. Sweet place. Bring the family.

We gassed up, and then got back on the road to do a U-turn at the light to get back to 95. And just as we get there a work truck STOPS in front of us, and proceeds to set up shop to do some work. Really? Now? Right now you gotta do this shit? So now we have to get back out into the travel lane to our right and go to the next light. Does anyone let us out? Nooooooooo. Because it’s obvious we’re trying to pull a fast one here, right?

We finally get to turn around, and after waiting forever at a half-billion traffic lights we finally get back to the intersection where the workers blocked us in. And of course now they are leaving. BASTARDS!

We go to get back on the highway…and there’s more traffic. Wow. This is probably why Google’s directions steered us around this area I bet. Too bad we missed that exit! Calgon, take me away…

Welcome to Tobacco Country. Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em.

You can’t tell from the pic, but these over passes were crazy-high. Not the place I’d want to be during any type of quake.

Self-portrait. I’m sure people were wondering what the F I was doing.

Hard to see but that’s Melissa directly behind me.

Sixty-two degrees…now we’re talkin’!

This cracks me up. So for the next thousand miles, the only two places worth noting are Rocky Mount, NC, and Miami. That’s it. Ain’t nuthin’ else in between folks. If yer not goin’ to Rocky Mount, then jus’ keep on drivin’ till you hit Miami cuz the rest of that stuff in da middle is crap.

Exit 176. This is what happens when you wait too long to do your blog posts…you ferget why the heck you took a pic of an exit sign!

“WILSON!!!!!!” Actually we’re heading to Fayettville, but I always have to do a shout out to Tom Hanks whenever I see that word.

I have GOT to see this place some day. JR has it all. We saw sign after sign advertising their stuff. Cigars…books…toys…jewelry…even porcelain dolls. Sheesh.

We were finally getting close to Fayetteville. Thank God too because it has been a whole lotta sittin’.

We checked into our hotel, an Econo Lodge. I know I make fun of the name but the place was kinda cool actually. Only drag was that the “pet friendly” rooms were also next to the smoking rooms. Kinda makes sense I guess since I put cat-pee and cigarette smoke in the same category. Actually given a choice I’d take the cat pee.

The check in girl was friendly as can be. We got settled in and then walked over to the local Ruby Tuesday. Had a great waiter. Guy was an overly-friendly goof and we loved it. I was betting he was a stoner but it didn’t matter. He was just too damn happy.

We sipped wine in the room and crashed. Dora spent the night all comfy on the foot of the bed between us. Not sure where Luna was. She woke me up by chewing on the bed post next to my head. Then she hopped on top of Melissa. Twit.

We packed things up and headed out before dawn.

As we drove through South Carolina, it seemed pretty clear that the only thing to do there is to keep driving until you get to Savannah, GA. That was based on all the signs we saw that kept telling us to “Go see Savannah!” Keep driving! South Carolina has nothing but scary people. Drive fast until you get to Savannah!! DON’T STOP!!

Are we there yet????

This dude had *everything* packed up. I think I spotted grandma strapped in behind the wheel of the Jeep.

Again, what’s with the town names people? Is this a place to live, or something you might catch if you hang out with the wrong type of women?

One thousand miles!! Nice temp too for 8:40 in the morn. I can dig it.

Shut the front door…first signs of Florida! And that better not be a sign for Brunswick, Maine.

“Thank you for visiting South Carolina. Now stop reading this sign and GET YOUR ASS TO SAVANNAH LIKE WE BEEN TELLIN’ YOU!!”

Palm trees baby…that’s what I’m talkin’ ’bout.

Well, to be honest it’s FLORIDA that’s on my mind. And wasn’t 1996, like, a looooong time ago?

Yup…figures. Georgia and Hooters.

And big cows. With straw hats. And earrings. OK kids, let’s jus’ keeeeeeep drivin…

South Newport? No damnit…FLORIDA!!!! Not Rhode Island. WTF.

Seein’ way too many NY plates. Now THOSE are the real ‘Damn Yankees’.

I really do like the signs down here. At least they have fun with things.

Yippee ky aaaaa (I’ll leave off the “MF’s” part)!!!!

Now the big question…will our two Rolling Greenhouses get any unwanted attention from some bored trooper.

Nope, not a big deal at all. And check it out…seventy four. Damn that’s sweet.

I think I’ve seen these before but still kinda funny.

This cracked me up…sign after sign encouraging the purchase of fireworks…

MORTARS! ROCKETS! MEGA-BOOMERS! BLOW – SHIT – UP PEOPLE!!! DO IT NOW!!!!

And then this at the end…haha…”Did you blow your fool head off with fireworks? Call us, we can help. We’re experts at getting your headless torso the compensation it deserves.”

Dunkin Donuts!!!! They’re civilized here!

Then again, maybe not. Rollin’ up the windows now. Surprised it didn’t also advertise small children for sale around the back. At least it’s a place where your average Florida couple can find something they BOTH will like. “Yeah, uh, I’ll take that Glock overe there, and uh, how about those pearl earrings too. Those are real, right, not them freshwater kind I hope.”

125 to Tampa. Good God the end is in sight.

Traffic. Ug. Crossing 301 was a pain. Not that I expect to make a habit of this, but there’s gotta be a better way.

Eighty…freakin’…degrees. In Dec. Awesome.

Saddle up, Melissa…we’re in Country country now. Hehehehe.

The main reason I decided to include this pic wasn’t because of the St Pete and Tampa reference…it was because of the condition of my WINDSHIELD. Look at all those big guts. Hahaha!

Saw one nasty accident. Just like everywhere, people do the same dumb, impatient shit…they get onto a highway (notice I didn’t say ‘merge’ cuz that ain’t what they do), and they they just gotta cut over as soon as possible. They did, someone tapped their brakes because of it, and it was all over after that. Too many cars too close together to handle a slight slow down.

LOVED this one. Cruisin down the highway.

But what I loved the most was the dude driving, AND holding the mattress down. “Two hands on the wheel? We don’t need to do that pansy-ass crap. Besides, if I let go we might lose the damn mattress. What are you, stupid or somethin? You ain’t from around here, is ya?”

Wow…Parrish…our new home-to-be. How sweet is that.

That’s it folks. Two days of driving…1,400 miles.

And when we got to our new home, it was New Year’s Eve, so the front gate (which we can see) was all lit up.

We had some champagne, and then crashed on a blow-up mattress. So begins our next adventure in life…

But at the same time it’s too bad we couldn’t spend more time with them. But John and Nacy were there too so that’s cool.

We’re watching our money (go to other people), so I decided to put us up at the luxurious Pop Century Resort (aka a motel with lots of colorful things to cover up the fact that it’s a motel). Place didn’t even have a restaurant! Note to self – if dining option at your hotel is a Food Court, don’t expect much!

And THIS is where Nicole and Laura stayed.

THEIR pool was rockin’, with plenty of food and good times happening. OUR pool had bingo, and as far as I could tell there was no one playing except for two old ladies, one of whom kept shouting “WHAT DID SHE SAY?”

Nicole had made dinner reservations at the Rainforest Café in Downtown Disney. So after stopping to see them at their NICE hotel, we drove back to our place, and then caught the shuttle. We walked around a bit since we were early. The Lego place was hoppin’ like mad with kids running all over. It was a zoo! Some cool creations there too. Loved these dogs.

The “air balloon”, Characters In Flight, was in constant use.

I love the Rainforest Café. It’s so whacky, and provides great photo ops like these. “Another plate of nacho’s folks?”

The gang just after we (well, me for sure) had stuffed ourselves. Notice my plates are still in front of me. The waitress was afraid to reach for Melissa’s plate I think for fear I’d bite her. They sent in a guy later on to do it instead.

Back at our hotel. At least they have cool lawn ornaments.

We sipped wine and made up the signs for tomorrow. Melissa did most of the work, including what became the most popular sign.

Inside joke…

OK…Marathon Day… so here’s where the adventure begins. We never verified when the shuttles would actually run. I just figured they’d start early and keep going. You know, like normal. But I should have known better, especially after the dismal experience using the Disney Marathon site in the weeks before the big event. It had ZERO helpful info for spectators. ZERO. Harsh I know, but as a spectator this was excruciatingly frustrating. As far as I’m concerned, this whole mess was a Mickey Mouse operation, and I don’t mean that kindly.

We were up early, but not early enough. As we walked to the shuttle area, it was nothing but dimly-lit emptiness with one lone Disney person standing there. And he says to us “You’re not looking for a shuttle, are you?” in a very distinct “Cuz there ain’t any” voice. “Shuttles only ran until 5am!”, he says.

Oh yay.

So we head inside to see what we can do. Guy says there’s cabs right out front, so we head back out the other door and sure enough there’s a cab, all by itself, dark, on the far left. I wave at it. Nothing. So we walk over. Empty. No cabbie in site.

Back inside.

They call us a cab, says it will be right here. So we walk back out. Now the Mystery Cab from before is lit up. God only knows where the driver was. Foreign dude of course. We ask if he can get us to Epcot.

Dude starts freaking.

No kidding, he starts acting like we just asked to be driven to Monster Island in a James Bond movie, mouth goin’, hand’s flailin’, taking about two-headed fire-breathing dragons. We plead with him to get us as close as he can and he finally relents (man, you’d think a stinkin cabbie would know some back streets…I’m beginning to think this Disney place is run like a Russian prison camp).

Still in the dark, dodging flashing police lights and road blocks, he dropped us off in the grass by the off ramp from World Drive onto Epcot Center Drive.

Did I mention it was dark? And cold?

We scrambled down a small embankment, praying there wasn’t any runoff water at the bottom, and got onto the off ramp. And thus began our walking experience. We’d end up doing a LOT of walking today. But this was surreal. The roadways in the park aren’t exactly small. The off ramp itself was ridiculously long. And yet there were no cars, so it felt like one of those apocalypse movies where we were the only survivors.

We followed along towards some bright lights, and a booming voice. The lights were mostly coming from the gate entrance to Epcot, which was again totally deserted. The voice was a recording…a man’s voice saying “CAUTION RUNNERS – SPEED BUMPS AHEAD”. Over and over and over and over and over…all I could think was that if I were a runner approaching that, I’d run faster just to get past it!.

I took some videos of this part of our journey, just to remember the weirdness of it all.

[YouTube=http://youtu.be/EY3xWyTmN2E]

[YouTube=http://youtu.be/CO_5Uurlj74]

When we got to the entrance gate and realized there was still a lot more ground to cover, we began to jog. So we begin our dream of moving to Florida, and our very first full weekend here were jogging through some deserted streets outside Epcot, in the dark, freezing, running towards some muffled sounds that may or may not be the actual start, all the while dodging checkpoints for fear they would tell us we can’t get in.

We finally reached the outer edge of the Epcot parking. If you have ever been here, you know why they usually provide shuttle trains to get you from your car to the park itself…IT’S MASSIVE!!! So, we kept running.

Did we have any real chance of seeing the start, or even knowing which coral was up? No. We made our way to some part of the course near the start, and it was mobbed. Even worse, there was an embankment, so even if you were just one row back you were already lower than needed to see anything at all. Guess that’s why Disney “offered” that paid preferred seating crap! But if all you wanted to do was come and cheer on your runner, good luck with that. No signs, no helpful info…nothing.

This was the area as we headed back from the course.

At this point we decided to head back out the parking lot because we noticed that the course was going to pass through there. Even though it was dark, this turned out to be one of the best viewing areas of the entire race. We had it almost to ourselves. Nearly impossible to take pics though, and I didn’t want to flash people’s eyes.

We did see Nicole and Laura go by at least, so that was cool.

After this we decided we better head to Magic Kingdom. So we crammed into the monorail with 8 billion other people. On the way, we passed over some runners.

I think we ended up at an overpass for Seven Seas Drive. At this point my hands and feet were numb. I was shaking as I took pics. Melissa had the “Only xx miles until margarita time” sign up, and people really got a kick out of it (although one dude thought the margarita glass was a toilet??? Huh?? Lay off the Gu, dude.) The sun was still coming up, so getting good action shots was tough.

The costumes were great.

I *swear* this dude was also wearing a fairy costume in Chicago last year!

A ton of Goofy’s of course, but still cool.

Um, yeah…what Disney character was this again?? Captain Underwear?

Go Smurf go.

Relatives of the woman in front of me stopped to say hi.

People really related to the idea of a big margarita waiting at the end!

The Sloppy Joe’s dude!

And there they are!! Smiles all around, so that’s good.

Next we moved to the mile 13 area (at least I hope that’s what it was). Gotta love the motivational signs. Although not quite as “street” as Chicago, where we often say things like “RUN, BITCH!”

Such hams. The tiaras were a riot.

OK, so at this point we wanted to get down to the 19 mile area, which means we had to get to the All Star resort area. But a very helpful Disney dude warned us that the monorail was jam-city, and there were no direct busses to All Star (which makes no sense). So we had to get a bus to Animal Kingdom, and THEN get a bus to All Star.

We get to Animal Kingdom, and we’re seeing a pattern – every time we need to get to a shuttle, it’s the last one in the area farthest away from us. At Animal Kingdom, we walked away from the platform to get to a viewing area. But of course it was jammed, so we thought it would be best to get down to All Stars right away. So we walked back to the platform. Only the number assigned to the All Star resort area wasn’t to be found…then we spotted it…across the road!

Which meant of course that we had to walk *back* to the viewing area, and then navigate a very narrow walkway to cross to the other side. Once there, we saw a bus stop right in front of us, in the spot marked for All Stars. But it had some four-character name on it…NOT “All Stars”. So Melissa pokes her head in:

Melissa: “Is this the bus for All Stars?”
Driver (nods): Movies?
Melissa: “All Stars?”
Driver (getting louder): “Movies!”
Melissa: “I don’t think that’s it.”
Driver: “Where are you going?”
Melissa: “All Stars”
Driver: “Movies?”
Melissa: “No, All Stars”

Wasn’t quite like that but you get the gist. Disney is so freakin’ huge that the resorts have sub-resorts, so what he was trying to say was that he was going to the Movies section of the All Stars resort. Which of course was allllll the way in the back, which means if we took this bus, we’d have to hoof it back to the road to catch the girls. And Disney regulations prevent random bus stops.

Not knowing when the next bus would arrive, we hopped on. We passed part of the course on the way.

While on the bus, we came upon the runners when they were most-likely on the southern leg out of Animal Kingdom. This would probably be the worst part for them, and it’s when we really wanted to be there. This was an interesting distraction for them – a roadside graveyard! Haha.

We passed a lot of runners who seemed to be struggling a bit at this point. Probably getting tired, and very hot. This dude was trucking right along though, even though it appeared he had some type of issue that caused him to be arched way back as he ran.

When we got to All Stars, as expected we got dropped off in the back. We hoofed it about a mile-and-a-quarter to get back to Osceola Parkway. We got stuck at the traffic light just before the road, and we’re pretty sure it was around this time that Nicole and Laura buzzed by. Brats were running faster than we had expected! Unfortunately we didn’t find out until we had climbed up a steep hill and waited for them. While we were there is when I got the email alert that they had passed 20. Damn.

Oh well, at least we entertained some people.

Oh yeah…a whole lotta walkin’ goin’ on.

Texting a cab company to come get her??

Some people most definitely enjoyed Melissa’s sign!

Free margarita’s!! Yaaaaayyyyyyy. Well, not exactly.

So once we realized the Speed Demons had passed us, we trudged back and waited for the next bus back to Epcot.

Which never came.

So once again we sought out a taxi driver. We *really* wanted to be there for them at the lonely stretches at the end, but at this point we had to get back to Epcot to see the finish. Of course there was no good viewing for us non-paying commoners, so we did the best we could standing 3-4 people deep in a small area just before the finish. One woman in front of me kept moving her head back and forth, so of course I did too, which probably means the people behind me were doing the same thing. Buncha people standing there constantly standing on tippee-toes, moving their heads from side-to-side. Good stuff.

I am always amazed at how some people can wear things on their heads in that kind of heat!

These people somehow managed to get beers and frozen drinks just before the finish. Ha!

THEY MADE IT!!!

But somehow I doubt Nicole will be planning to do another marathon anytime soon. Like NEVER! Haha. But way-cool that she did this one. It will always be with her now.

Of course the house looks funny now. Not exactly staged for sale. Here’s the classically-styled living room with patterned lawn chairs and Job Lot folding side table.

And this of course is the utterly massive 13 inch (measured diagonally) TV.

The hanging wires look like a scene from The Grinch after he raided Whoville.

The finest entertainment center Wal Mart money can buy.

The place actually looks big now, which is cool.

The little bitches don’t care as long as they have their nightly seating area.

Of course it was in our possession for no more than five minutes before I had managed to draw blood. Yup, did a nice one on my noggin yet again. This time it was bleeding in THREE places. Most impressive.

Oh…I bet you want to know HOW I managed to do this. Well, as usual, it takes the combination of a few key events.

First, when the driver was there, we took the ramp out so I could make sure there was room for it out the back. Then we partially slid the ramp back in (keyword being “partially”).

So the driver left, and now I just had to slide the ramp all the way back in. But the ramp is actually two connected sections, one shorter than the other. And underneath the spot where they connect is a steel support thingy that extends down. The long section of the ramp was in the bed of the trailer, but the short section AND that damn metal support footer thingy were both hanging out the back.

Problem is, the part hanging out wasn’t level with the other end inside the trailer. Because the sections fold together, the short end and the support thingy were hanging down a bit. And this sucker weighs a lot, let me tell ya, which means simply ‘lifting and sliding’ wasn’t gonna work.

Now, if this were being filmed, here’s the part where most viewers would be saying “Oh my, he probably shouldn’t do that.” “That” was me getting UNDER the exposed section of the ramp (the one that pivots where the two sections connect), and putting my shoulders on the frame of the support thingy, and then lifting with all my might.

OK, rocket-science time…if the two sections of connected ramp have a pivot that allows one to fold back onto the other, it stands to reason that the f’ing support thingy ALSO pivots. Which it did…right after I did the “all my might” bit.

Result? Top of my head meets underside of corrugated steel ramp with many pointy things on it, and several of those pointy things introduce themselves to the soft bits surrounding my noggin.

I always love the way that the blood doesn’t start flowing right away, and yet you can feel the dents. I also loved Melissa’s comment when I told her what happened…”I shouldn’t have packed the bike helmets yet”. Hehe!

Oh, and one more thing…when we first moved here, we fully expected to see all kinds of wildlife. I mean come on, we’re in the country! And yet year after year we saw squat, while friends and relatives who lived in more populated places constantly saw cool animals. WTF?

We did see evidence of deer now and then, like when they munched our tulips, and helped themselves to our budding arborvitae. But we never caught them doing it. Until now…now that we are leaving, we finally spot a culprit. Damn deer walked right up to the arborvitae and started munching like it was a free buffet. I opened the door and started yelling at him, and he just looked at me like “Dude, you think I care? You’re splittin’ and we all know it. Think we can’t read? We know what FOR SALE means ya dumb-ass. You’re outta here, and so it’s open-season on these munchies here. Oh, and for the record, those tulips were lame. Where the hell did you get those? Wal Mart? Dude, those are crap from China. Next time, get them at Breck’s or we’ll munch these pretty little bushes of yours down to twigs and then crap out the remnants all over your precious lawn.”

Just kidding…I’m too cheap to pay the FedEx fees…

A 28 foot trailer will be dropped off for three days on Dec 22nd. ABF freight provides this. It’s actually 3 ‘business’ days, so that means we’ll have from Thu to Tue to pack. We fill up as much as we need, then install a full bulkhead they provide. They pick up the trailer, load up the rest of the space with commercial shipping stuff going to the same general area, and off they go. They drop off the commercial load, then leave the trailer with our stuff at our new address. And again we get three business days to unload.

As for us, we’re loading up the cats, the plants, and the fish (yes, the fish…gotta at least try) and heading down wicked early Fri Dec 29th. The plan is to make it to Fayetteville, NC before it gets dark, so figure around 12 hours at least. I went all out and booked us a room at the local EconoLodge, ice bucket not included.

We’ll have a couple of people watching the house here, plus the police. But it’s still a bit nerve-wracking. If we get a nasty storm and the power goes out, we won’t be there to crank the wood stove. So it would be nice if we could actually SELL the place! Hmmm…yeah…me thinks we’re in the same boat as a lot of other people, so at least we’re not alone. Can’t really complain…lots of people *need* to sell their house…we’re not in that unfortunate spot…yet.

I was trying to compile a list of the things we’d miss (besides family and friends, of course). What I quickly discovered is that it was loads easier to come up with things I *won’t*miss.

What I won’t miss:

Barking Dogs. I am PRAYING that we don’t have anywhere NEAR the problem with this when we get to Florida as we do now. I am so sick of dogs left outside to bark. At least the one house with the multitude of yippy dogs seems to have quieted down. This is most likely because the “wife” or whoever the hell she is has either moved out and taken her dogs with her, or her husband off’ed them to spite her. Which brings me to the second thing I won’t miss:

Screaming Neighbors. The lady I mentioned above was on her back deck on a cell phone screaming obscenities at whoever was on the other end (most likely her husband). I’m not sure what this guy did, but I assume he cheated on her or something as she was screaming bloody murder. Which goes right along with the neighbor next to her who ALSO has had a number of very loud screaming matches with her hubby, plus an incident where she tossed a sewing machine at her own kid during a fight. Nothing like a little trailer park trash to brighten up an otherwise peaceful ‘hood.

Ridiculously Loud People. Seeing a theme here? So we were outside Sat night enjoying a [clean burning] fire, when The Voice made an appearance. Think Jersey Shore. This woman has a set of chords that could travel through lead. And whatever they were doing likely involved some form of smoking, because she was talking and hacking like she was gargling phlegm, and saying classic stuff like “OH MY GAWD” in that stupid accent of hers.

Burning Shit. I have noticed something over the years as a result of driving in our area of town – our neighborhood is occupied by an abnormally high number of men who like to burn things. I’m not talking nice, dry wood as part of a family campfire. I’m talking things like trash, and rotten, wet leaves that can darken an entire swath of area with a toxic cloud. I have also noticed that one particular neighbor NEVER burns this crap when the wind is blowing TOWARDS his house. He only does it when it blows towards US. Douchbag.

Neighbor Dogs that “Get Loose”. Let’s get real, folks. They don’t usually “get loose”…you LET them loose, ya dumb-ass. Like the time our neighbor’s big sheep dog decided to pay a visit in our newly-seeded lawn. It had rained, and the 3-4 inches of topsoil was drenched. No matter…Mr. Sheep Dog happily trounced all over it. From the air it must have looked like one of those Family Circus cartoons where Mom sends Billy next door to get some sugar, and he wanders everywhere BUT next door. Deep dog prints were everywhere. Nice that we spent four grand getting a new lawn put in, and our dick-ass, inconsiderate neighbor let’s his mutt walk all over it. Oh, and to top it off he dropped a nice doggie deuce right in the middle. Yeah, won’t miss that!

Gunfire. I love being in the rural part of town, but I never expected the constant gunfire. I especially liked it when one of our close neighbors decided to get a gun too, and every Sunday morning he’d go out and squeeze off rapid-fire shots as fast as he could. So nice to see our pets scrambling for cover because they are scared. What kind of shit-for-brains does stuff like that???

Cars and Motorcycles. It always amazed me how much a passing Harley would drown out our conversations when the road was over 100 yards away, and through the woods. Thing is, that part of roadway is in a gulley, and I know the riders LOVED to rip open the throttle. I’ve seen the same crap when they go through tunnels. They get their stupid rocks off to that crap. And then there was the time the kid next door got a rice rocket and would be tearing through the neighborhood. We’d hear him going full-bore for miles after he left, probably hitting speeds above 80 on small back roads. If that were my kid I would have taken a sledge to the bike. And so what happens? Lo and behold, the kid gets into an accident and seriously hurts himself. Duh. Didn’t see that one coming at all. And let’s not forget the dude that owns the racecar…sure will miss listening to him sitting there revving his engine repeatedly all weekend long.

Leafblowers. OK, I realize I may not escape this. But hopefully it will at least happen during the day, and not so much on the weekends. One neighbor used his EVERY weekend. He was anal, and just had to blow his driveway and his decks and walkways. Had to. This idiot could not go one weekend without pulling the damn blower out for an hour+ at a time. During the fall it’s insane. Neighbor after neighbor out there all weekend long blowing leaves. And then burning them (but only when they were suitably wet, mind you). Heaven forbid anyone would want to sit outside and actually breathe.

Shop Vacs. Yeah, yeah, I know my issue is with noise. But really…*I* make noise too. Sometimes it’s necessary. I understand that. But the idiot who Shop Vac’s his stupid car every other weekend? Really? I’m not talking an antique Chevy he’s spiffing up for a Sunday car show. It’s his damn cheap-ass commuter. Dude, what the f do you need to vacuum that beater out so much for? WHY??? Put the damn vac DOWN!!!

Ug. I am so ready to be done with these inconsiderate morons. And move on to NEW inconsiderate morons! Hey, at least I recognize I’m anal and have issues. But I’m RESPECTFUL, damnit!

So what will we miss?

The Fires. We love to sit out when it’s quiet and calm and have a camp fire. Granted, it was rare to have a completely peaceful night not interrupted by lingering smell of burning, rotted leaves, barking dogs, swarming mosquitoes, or Jersey-ites coughing up a lung. But when the stars aligned it was really, really nice. Hopefully we can at least fire up the chiminea once in a while without pissing off a neighbor.

The House. Face it, we have done so much to the place, and we really love it there. And of course there are a ton of good memories. Plus Mickey and Cassie will always rest there. It will be very hard to say goodbye (assuming we can be heard over the barking dogs, leaf blowers, yelling, and the Harley’s).

The Area. It’s pretty, and we have done a lot right where we live, like the running and biking, taking the kayaks out, going out to eat. You know you’re at home when the wait staff at the local restaurant puts out your bottle of wine before you even ask for it.

The Birds. We’ve become quite attached to the various birds that often visit. I still love the story Melissa told about the time a woodpecker insisted on ringing the doorbell. And the bird who always wanted to be inside the house, constantly fluttering around the bay window (much to the entertainment of the cats).

Sushi in the Sun Room. It wasn’t always sushi, but that’s what we had there most often. It was so nice being in there with the big windows and the plants. Course we always kept an eye on Fred the Attack Plant to make sure he wasn’t making any moves.

It has bore sole witness to my every action in my cube this past year. Only it knows how many times I have yawned, how many times I have mouthed “What the fuck” when reading some dumb-ass email, and exactly how many times I have dug out a nose-nugget when no one was around.

A year ago today, I rescued my whoopie from a certain death. It came in a small case, along with other whoopies, all destined for some awful gastro-intestinal fate. They were a gift, if you could call it that, from a well-meaning vendor to one of the manager’s here. When I picked it out, it was like looking at a nursery, with each different whoopie all lined up.

This one spoke to me, so I had to have it. So I swaddled it, stuck a sticky on it that said “Dec 15, 2010″, and tacked it to my wall, where I could admire it every day.

Ahhh, so many memories. I remember its first drool, when just a smidge of its pretty raspberry filling began to ooze down into the low corner. I nearly cried. And when its cute little white government-nutritionist approved filling began to ooze too, I spent the morning taking pictures.
There were struggles too, of course. I tried to get it to make me a drawing for the fridge, or maybe take up soccer, but it refused. Then when the tattoo appeared, I thought it was all over…another punk-ass loser, I assumed.

But then it blossomed, spilling more of its inner soul. That tattoo was nothing more than a Marilyn Monroe beauty mark. It has settled down, and I could see a long and happy life together.

Alas, I am moving away. And I have decided that my little whoopie is too fragile to come with me. Oh how I would cry if it split open during our long journey, the fragrant aroma of its last gasps of breath stinging my eyes, and making me puke.

So it is with great sadness that I have found an adoptive soul…a fellow cube-dweller who has agreed to take my whoopie into his care, and to nurture it to its fullest potential, which will likely resemble a kind of edible Benjamin Button gone reverse, if you will.

It’s kind of sad that I never heard its little voice, never heard it coo. Which is probably good I guess, for if I had, it surely would have meant that the plastic wrap had broken, releasing a toxic goo probably quite similar to the acidic blood of the creature from those Aliens movies, burning through my desk, the floor, and taking out some critical servers in the computer room below. How ironic would it be that a whoopie pie, brought to us by some IT vendor who probably didn’t get the big contract they wanted, ended up taking out our data center with a single caustic ooze bomb.

But I digress. Family and friends, I give you my one-year-old whoopie:

Isn’t that mole the cutest thing!!

(And yes, in all seriousness, I am amazed that this thing *still* looks almost edible. WHAT THE HELL IS IN THERE!!!!!)

Of course I needed to test it out, so I set it up at our current house. I put it in a place that I *knew* was guaranteed to see activity while we were gone at work – the kitchen counters, also known as “Luna’s Lick-My-Ass-Where-You-Prep-Your-Human-Food Playground”.

But, being the evil person I truly am, I also set up our compressed-air Scat cannister, the one that sprays out a sudden and loud air blast when it detects motion. Yup…motion-sensing camera AND motion-sensing cat terrorizer thingie. I was locked and loaded.

Sure enough, later that morning at work, I get an email alert that the camera has detected something. What do I see? Oh look…it’s Luna…prancing around on the counters where she KNOWS she’s not supposed to be. I am so very shocked by this behavior.

And then I get a second motion alert. Only this time, there’s NO KITTY!

Awwwwww…poor, shithead kitty got sprayed and went flying off the counter, not to be seen again for the rest of the day.

Darn. I feel terrible. I really do.

But I have taken it to a slightly different level these days. I have a small bottle of mouth rinse, and just like at home I will now sip a little rinse before brushing. But at work it’s a little different. Here I take a sip AT MY DESK, and THEN head to the men’s room, after putting a little toothpaste on my brush. The thing is, I now have to get from “here to there”, which is not always easy.

So today I take a sip, but just then a guy walked by to the printer who I know likes to chat now and then. So I had to lay low for a bit until he went around the corner to the printer. I then got up, took a left, another left, a right, a left, and then I saw the cleaner cart outside the men’s room I usually use. It was closed for cleaning (damn lady cleans the room twelve times a day I swear)

I continued down the hall to the stairwell, which was occupied by another dude who likes to chit-chat. Luckily he was on the phone, but he stopped talking to say hi. I just gurgled a hello back at him and headed up the stairs.

When I got to the top I opened the door and went down the hall. As I neared the men’s room on this level, I saw the DO NOT ENTER yellow construction gate…I forgot that our “green” company was now re-constructing the men’s rooms to add a second crapper. I guess the reasoning at first was to limit the number of guys taking a dump so we can meet some formula for “less crap” going into the environment. Perhaps the number of us dudes getting frustrated and doing a deuce in the parking lot started to become an issue.

I had to turn around and head back down, but by now the Listerine in my mouth was starting to eat through my flesh, so I ducked into the mini break room on this level to spit it out in the sink. I had it just about ready to go when I noticed a lone woman standing on the far side out of the way, talking on her cell. I don’t know her…she doesn’t know me. I walked in, headed right for the sink like I was going to toss up last nights beef burrito, saw her, stopped for no apparent reason, and abruptly turned around. Yet another woman here who now thinks I am a complete retard no doubt.

I had no choice but to head back down, go past the dude chatting in the stairwell, past the cleaning lady, down the long hall, nodding and smiling at everyone I saw, until I got to the next men’s room. By this time I was ready to explode, and as a result I ended up splattering Listerine everywhere. I quickly brushed my teeth and left. As I went back down the hall, the cleaning lady was now heading towards the bathroom I just violated with overused mouth rinse spew. All I wanted to do was look at her and say “Bite me! This was all YOUR fault!” But I’m sure that would be hard to explain to HR.

• Our lender, the lawyer/closing agent, the current homeowners, our realtor up here in RI.

None of them have gotten back to us all day. Not one. I could call. Oh yes, I could call. And get voice mail for each and every one of them I am sure, or get a very curt response, like I’m “bothering” them. I swear I have never been put through such consistent and repeated lack-of-service in my life!

Nothing like sitting around wondering what, if anything is happening. Nothing like having soooo much hanging in the balance, and to get little more than tumble weeds slowly blowing across the dusty main street in town, not a living soul in sight. That’s what it feels like. And every time we think we’re set, we go through a quiet period, and then a last-minute reply comes in saying they “need this”, or we’re “missing that”.

So, as far as I know we’re still set to close, but it suuuuuure would be nice to hear that from the principles involved.