Thursday, January 15, 2009

Oh Hai.

Well, a few things have happened since December ... the biggest and most obvious being that I moved last Saturday. It was, interesting, and painful, and also sad because a lot of my stuff was damaged/destroyed during the move.
  • One of the back legs of my fabulous vintage couch snapped clean off. We have determined that it happened in the moving truck because the fabulous couch was in one piece for sure when it when into the truck. (the fact that it had another couch, a temperpedic mattress topper and a dining room table on top of it may have had something to do with it).
    • Boyfriend's dad put some wood glue on it, c-clamped it for several hours, and then put a few screws in it and so far it has held. Granted, I've only sat on it for about 5 minutes, gently so that I wouldn't break it again, but the empty boxes that are sitting on it haven't broken it again so I'm hopeful that it will hold. Otherwise, I am going to cry.
  • My floor lamp (vintage) blew over in Boyfriend's driveway while they were loading his stuff in the U-Haul and got a hole poked in the shade. It's not terrible, but if anyone knows someone who can fix it, shoot me an email.
  • My vintage cheese plate shattered.
  • The stoneware insert of my crock pot was DESTROYED. My best guess is that it got dropped in the storage unit at some point. If anyone has one they don't want, or knows where I could get a new one, shoot me an email.
    • I am mad about this for three reasons:
    • 1. It was an impulse buy.
    • 2. It was only used once. By my friend so that she could make us cheese dip.
    • 3. I ended up not liking the dip. Crock Pot purchase = FAIL.
  • The cut glass for my tall dresser broke when Boyfriend moved the thing it was leaning against without looking to make sure that he wasn't going to break something by moving the thing. (the cut glass for my chest of drawers was lovingly broken by my little brother when we were moving my stuff into the storage unit in August. AWESOME).
  • The top of my chest of drawers is starting to come off ... probably because it's old (it was my mom's when she was a kid) and it's moved around more than any piece of furniture ever should be (I have never lived in a place for more than a year at a time).
  • While it didn't break while we were moving in, my bed frame (the one that was hand made by my dad using solid oak 2x4's [it was the heaviest bed EVER. I'm not kidding, it took about three MEN to move it] and was the bed that my parents have used since before they were married [read: over 20 years old]) bit the dust when I moved out of my house in August.
    • So my bed is on the floor, which isn't really a problem, I just don't like to have to look up at my nightstand. It's just weird.
Other than that everything made it in once piece/looking the way it did when it left the storage unit. None of Boyfriend's stuff was broken or maimed, but to be fair I think that's mostly due to the fact that he has about a fourth of the stuff that I have, ergo, less stuff to break.

The apartment is starting to really come together, the kitchen is almost totally together, I got all my books unpacked and on the shelf (and even have a few that I'm going to get rid of, aren't you proud of me?), the dinning room is still full of empty boxes that need to be broken down and put in the basement, the living room is done, Boyfriend's room is totally put together, the bathroom is finally done (all thanks to me),and the linen closet needs a little organizing but other than that is done.

The only thing that's left is my bedroom, which looks like it was hit with a bomb. A bomb of stuff. And boxes.

I have my furniture where I want it (except for the table that's sitting in the dinning room) and for the most part my closet is under control (I have ALWAYS wanted a walk-in closet and now I have one and I just don't know what to do with myself) and I have a growing pile of stuff I no longer care to move with me anymore. I think I have three boxes (maybe four) that still need to be unpacked.

Stay tuned for my next post: Attack of the Throw Pillows or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Accept the Fact that I Have WAY TOO MANY SETS OF THROW PILLOWS.

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