Boston or Bust! (but first, finding a home and moving's a must!)

Back to last spring...

Two weeks after my nervous-break-down-of-a-trip last June when I failed to find us an apartment in Cambridge, Trevor was back in the Boston area for another conference.  I had 3 days with nothing to do but look at all the apartments I could possibly handle (which ended up being two) and came home empty handed.  Trevor had 4 days to look at as many apartments as he could possibly handle (which ended up being around 10) on top of having to attend a conference all day long.  He also came home empty handed, however, the very next day after his return we were offered the first apartment he looked at (Trevor 1; Julie 0).

Hooray, Hoorah!  Crisis averted!  After beating out 31 other applicants, and after offering to sign a 2 year lease, and after offering to pay and extra $100 a month, we have a new home!!!  Whoopeeeee!!!  Now we can focus on other things....like this wedding... We still need to figure out what the bridesmaids are wearing, and what Trevor and his brother are wearing, and what kind of food there will be, and who will be the DJ, and where will we put the tent, and what will we do if it rains, and where are we going to get a dance floor, and what will be our first dance song, and whether or not we going to have a cake, and figure out how to make this legal, and write this ceremony, and make a bouquet, and block off more hotel rooms, and find a shuttle bus, and figure out a rehearsal dinner venue....(!)  First things first though, we need to move across this great big country in the next month!

Planning the move was probably the easiest piece of this chaotic pie.  Things are easy when you blatantly do not do them.  Trevor and I had briefly chatted here and there about the best route and who we wanted to see and what we wanted to do.  I suspect he put a lot more effort into actually planning it than I did.  I was overly consumed with angst about everything else and was especially worried about not having a job (or more importantly a reliable income).  So  I wanted to work up until the very last day.  We decided we would leave Santa Barbara on a Saturday.  Therefore my last day of work would be the Friday before.

We got rid of most of our big furniture during our last week there.

Including this gem of a couch that came from Trevor's undergrad Rutgers apartment where 6+ dudes and 2 kittens lived.  I also believe it drops rat poop out of it when you shake it.  We sold it to college guys for $50.  It is going back to live and hopefully die in college housing.  Such a happy moment.

I said my sad good-byes to my co-workers and walked my box of cubicle nick knacks out the front door with tears in my eyes.  

I didn't have too much time to cry because on my way home I had to stop by the U-Haul store to pick up the trailer.  The U-Haul man shockingly tells me our 2004 Toyota Corolla cannot drag a trailer across the country.  I tell him we did it before in 2006.  He asks if we had any problems?  I say no.  He hooks it up.

Meanwhile, back at the apartment the place looks exactly how it looked when I left home that morning:

This "tree," which Trevor calls a weed, was not in our backyard when we moved in.

The apartment quickly deteriorates into boxes stacked everywhere, kitchen cabinets and closets all open, garbage bags, shoes, bikes, heaps of trash, guitars, clothes, pots and pans, books and cleaning supplies strewn all over the floor... one big mess.  Luckily our very good friends came by with In-and-Out Burgers and Miguel helped Trevor pack the trailer while Ichiko helped me pack the last of the boxes and clean the kitchen.  They hung out till after midnight which was way more than generous.  At that time, Trevor says he has to go pack up some of the "things" in his office.  He leaves, while I continue packing and move on to, you guessed it, more cleaning...

He returns shortly after.  Wow, that was quick!  Yea, well uh, he got to school, but couldn't find his keys, so...... This is after we have locked the 4x8x4ft trailer full of unmarked boxes containing everything under the sun that we have ever possibly owned.  If you don't have your keys...  Where the heck are they!?  In the trailer!?!

 Forget about the keys, we move on to cleaning out the cabinets, scrubbing down the tub and the toilet, dusting all the window sills, vacuuming the carpets, mopping the floors, cleaning out the oven, washing the scuff marks off the walls...

At 4am we lay down on the floor in what once was our bedroom for a four hour nap.  At 8am we awake to clean out the refrigerator, take out the trash, and meet with our landlord.  Then we leave our empty apartment for the last time...

We stop at our friends' house for brunch (about 3 hours later than anticipated) and say some more fond farewells...  But again, there is not much time for crying (just a little bit of crying), because we still have to figure out how to get into Trevor's office to pack up "some things."

Trevor calls his soon-to-be-former-office-mate and we stop by his house to borrow his office key.  Then we drive to Trevor's office and park our whole life in the UCSB parking lot.  We both trudge up to his office, open the door, and alas there are his keys, right on his desk where he left them.  We start cleaning out "some things" which actually means cleaning out his whole entire office.  One file cabinet, a huge bookcase, 5 huge garbage bags of paper waste, 6 trips to and from the car, and one twenty minute nap on a pile of old economic textbooks later and we are ready to hit the road!....8 hours later than anticipated.

Good-Bye SB!

Guess What? Yup, More Wedding Nostalgia

As I sit here attempting to chronicle some comical stories about my transition from excitement to horror with this whole wedding planning process, I have come to realize that a) my stories aren't at all unique b) even though it's over and was worth it, I still get anxiety just thinking about wedding planning and c) Buzzfeed has perfectly put together the timeline I was going for.

Every last word of it...so true.  But I'm still glad we did it...

Photo Contest, Part 2, The Prenupital Party

And this is when I go on a Serena-thanking-spree:

To be continued...

Seven Simple Sentences & a Scandinavian Song Sensation

Today at work someone brought in a whole batch of homemade double chocolate chips cookies for everyone in the office to share...There were lots of them.  The office smelled so yummy and delicious.... That someone was me.  I baked those cookies.  I work from home...alone. I ate all those cookies.

Photo Contest, Part I

Ladies and germs, before I go any further re-hashing all the events that lead up to my favorite party of this century, I would like to first, before you all lose interest, announce the photo contest winners for those of you who may or may not have known there was even a photo contest at all.  The photos below were all chosen subjectively by Julie with no real criteria other than "I like them."

Today's winners consist of our photographer Serena (no surprise there), our instagrammer Kevin (who changed his name to trulietrevin for the competition so we sort of had to give him a prize), our good friend Renata, pals Alison & Ammaron, sister Colleen, and my Dad.  Did I miss anyone?

Here they are in no particular order:

Best Photo Collage:

Compliments of my co-worker, Ivy, putting together photos taken by the one and only Serena Renner

Best rehearsal shots:

Best shot of giggly E-man:

He is very ticklish

Best cookie shot:

They were delicious, thank you Tibby!

Best Dad shot:

twinsies

Best shot of Georgie:

Best shots of Trevor getting ready:

Both of the above are compliments of the best second third wheel, Kevin:

Thank you Kevin!

Best shots of Julie getting ready:

Thank you Colleen

Thank you Serena

fierce

More to come....

Decisions, Decisions and Disasters, Disasters

Leading up to the first major panic attack occasion in June were a series of minor freak out moments and an overall faster beat of the heart.  Trevor was on the job market, and was physically or mentally busy for most of the time and in the midst of my day dreaming about what kind of life I will live in whatever corner of the country we move to next, we also had to decide what type of wedding we wanted.

Did we want to do it in the US or go somewhere international?  Should we do a destination wedding and keep it small?  If we do it in the US, would we do it on the west coast were we have been living for the past 7 years or on the east coast where the majority of our families live?  Should we do it in a church?  Should we do it on a boat?  Should we do it in a museum?  A circus? A vineyard? A campground? A courthouse? A backyard?

"They" first tell you to get a rough estimate of your guest list before you start looking at wedding venues.  So I gather my sister's guest list from her wedding and Trevor's sister's guest list from their wedding.  I start picking apart just the family side of the guests and got up to a count of 206, before I started shaking.  I can't do this right now.  Mini-meltdown #1

Trevor proposed this marriage thing during the summer we were out in Montana.  On the drive home from Bozeman to Santa Barbara, we stopped in Sacramento at our friends Evan and Ashley's house.  Evan perhaps jokingly mentions that  he has his certification to perform wedding ceremonies.  On the long drive from their house to ours, one of us jokes "wouldn't it be funny if both Evans did the ceremony?"  The other one laughs, but thinks it is a seriously good idea.  Seed is planted.  Evan, we will be taking you up on that offer.  That was an offer, right?

Last Christmas arrived with a few more mini-meltdowns.  We decided to focus on east coast venues and looked at a couple places while we are in New Jersey for the holidays.  My sister and mother had weeded out a few potential venues before we arrived including one that looked like a prison camp, had dirty plungers in the sink, and a creepy owner who was trying to set up my sister with his redneck son who had just recently been left at the alter.  Even though that place was in our price range, my sister begged me to never make her set foot on that place again. Fair enough.

We settled on Trout Lake, which was our favorite place from the start, although we were initially deterred by the price of their typical 3-day package. They mentioned they can also do 1-day weddings. Finally a decision had been reached.  We e-mailed the venue to let them we will take it.  Their last available weekend was Sept 20-22.  We will take Sept. 21, for the 1-day-only, please.   They then replied that they only do Sundays for 1-day-only weddings.  Panic, panic!  Do not want a Sunday wedding!  Then they go on to say that they will see if they can move some things around for us.  And they do...Phew...

By spring, things are shaping up.  We have our venue, our bridal party, I even bought a dress. Trevor now knows he is going to be in the Boston area, which reminds me, oh yes, that's right, we are going to be moving across the country in a couple of months and we do not have a place to live yet.  And I do not know what I am going to do for work.  And oh yea, how are we going to get all of our stuff over there?   It was right around this point when I had a legit nervous breakdown.

Leading up to this trip from hell, Trevor is trying to finish up his PhD.  A few weeks prior we were in Sacramento for a 30th birthday party and another wedding. Then the following week we were in NJ for my Grandma's 90th birthday.   The week after that his parents were visiting for his graduation.  Then we split up.  Trevor went to Italy for a conference and I went to Boston for yet another wedding.  The "plan" was that we would spend a few days after the wedding to find an apartment.  Trevor was going to meet me in Boston on Sunday, the day after the wedding, and we would look for a place to live together.  Perfect.

The wedding was awesome, and so was the after party.  Too awesome however, and after endless rounds of slapping, then chugging from a bag of boxed wine, two post midnight trips to the fast food joint down the street, a 5am bedtime and an 8am wake up time, I woke up Sunday morning in a horrendous state.  At least Trevor will be here in an hour and he will cheer me up...

I start heading from the wedding hotel to Trevor's college buddy's place in Boston where we will be couch surfing for the next couple days.  Then I get a text from Trevor: "will probably miss my flight.  will keep you posted."

Ok.... keep me posted.

"It is starting to look like I am going to miss Boston"

"Earliest I can get in is Tuesday night"

Tuesday night I will be on my way back to Santa Barbara...

Now if I was not so deathly ill at this point, I probably would have lost it.  But my focus right then was on not puking, not dying, getting this headache to go away, and sleep.   Trevor's buddy picks me up and brings me out with his friends for his roommate's birthday.  At least I have someone I know out here.  I tell him Trevor's not going to make it and he offers to take off work and show me around Boston to help me find an apartment.  I am starting to feel like I can still do this.

We need to find a place to live.  It is one major "to do" that I really need to cross off this massive, ever growing list in order to feel sane again.  I know I am not going to feel in control of anything until we can at least know where we are moving and then can plan how and when we move. And I don't want to leave Boston without a sense of things working out.  Monday morning I get up early and start contacting craigslist posters and making appointments to see as many places as I possibly can, which turns out to be four: two today and two tomorrow.

I am in our friend's bedroom since he politely gave me his room and slept on the couch in the living room. Did I also mention that it is 105 degrees out and they do not have air conditioning?  No?  Did I mention that they have cats?  And that I am deathly allergic to cats?  No?   I go into the living room in the morning.  Couch is empty.  Bathroom is empty.  House is seemingly empty.  Maybe he went out for a run?  Maybe he had to go to work?  Maybe he forgot about going around Boston?  Maybe he wasn't serious about showing me around?

I start planning my route to get to the first apartment when the friend's roommate comes out of his bedroom.

Me: "Oh hey, do you know where our friend is?"

Roommate: "Yea, he drove himself to the ER last night.  Turns out he has super sever kidney stone problems and needs some emergency procedure done.  Yea, he's going to be in the hospital for a few days."

Of course he is, poor friend!  Shocked, alone, stressed...but on the bright side, at least I am not passing kidney stones...and at least I don't have a crying toddler on my hip right now, right?  I tell myself I can still do this.

I looked at two apartments.  One was an awesome location, but 4 stories up with no elevator, laundry in the basement, and perhaps most critical...no A/C.  The second apartment was in an awful location, but was clean, had an elevator, had a fitness center and pool on site, had lots of storage, and despite the awful location I would have signed the lease right then and there because it had central air.

I go back to my friend's house and hangout with his roommate who lets me tag along with him and his beantown buddies.  We visit our friend in the hospital, grab some take out Indian food and beers for dinner, and head home to watch the Bruins Stanley Cup finals game.  They lose.  Although this trip is turning out to be the worst trip ever, I am pretty happy I am making new friends and am starting to feel like I am living in the movie Good Will Hunting.

The next morning is the day I am leaving.  It takes about an hour to get to the apartments I have lined up and then it will take another hour in the opposite direction to get back to the airport.  It is going to be a tight schedule.  No time for error.  I schlep all my luggage and belongings across town in the 105 degree heat and am hustling down the bumpy cobblestone sidewalks and arrive at the first apartment 8 minutes late.  The guy is not there.  I panic.  I missed him!!!

I dial the number I called him at yesterday.  I apologize for being a little late and beg him if he can come back.  He has no idea what I am talking about.  He just got out of a meeting.  I say "I spoke with you yesterday.  I wanted to look at this place at 17 Pine st.  You said to meet you here at 11am."  He says "Yes I remember the conversation, but I don't think we confirmed this because I don't seem to have this on my calendar".......  "Wellllll, when someone says meet me tomorrow at this time, that is confirmation to me!!"  [smoke is starting to come out of my ears].  He suggests a later time and date.  I not-so-politely decline.  Hang up.  If I was that kind of person, I would smash my phone in the street.  But I am not.  I put my phone in my pocket and sit down on the dirty curb and have a good cry.

A man walks by staring at me, concerned.  No my best friend didn't die, no I am not dying of some rare terminal illness, no I did not lose my puppy, I am just sad that this trip is not working out the way I expected.  I smack myself, get up on my feet, and head to the airport to fly back to Santa Barbara with the same size to do list as when I arrived...

During the trip back to Santa Barbara, the second to last flight of my journey gets held up for 45 minutes so that more passengers from an incoming flight could board.  I have a 45 minute connection that I now know I am going to miss.  I ring the flight attendant button.  I know this is not her fault, but I have to let someone know I am pissed.  Are they going to hold up the flight from LA to Santa Barbara for me?  No!?  Exactly.

Amazingly, we get to LA with 15 minutes to spare.  I have to board a shuttle bus from one terminal to the next, but I am the first one off the plane and the last one on the shuttle bus.  The bus zooms to the next gate and I am the first one off the shuttle bus and I am at the next gate with 10 minutes to spare only to find out that "I'm sorry mam, the last flight out to Santa Barbara tonight left 15 minutes early."   "ARE YOU F@#*$%~ KIDDING ME!!!!"  I could have strangled that United worker. Who leaves early!?!?!?!? After giving them a piece of my mind while fighting back tears, then realizing the last bus to Santa Barbara left 5 minutes ago, I calm down...defeated, dejected.  I accept my voucher for a free hotel in LA and boarding pass for a 6am tomorrow morning flight.  Great.

I head for the hotel shuttle bus when I spot the Santa Barbara bus.  I sprint for it.  They haven't left yet!!!  I get on the bus and ask the driver if he's going to Santa Barbara tonight?!  He's flustered and in a bad mood.  I then realize they haven't left yet because they were in a minor accident and lost their side view mirror.  They can't leave until they get a new one.  I park myself in the back of the bus.  I am getting myself home tonight!!!

Twenty minutes later the bus is all fixed up and the bus driver comes around collecting money. That's right this isn't free.  I only have $10 cash.  I hand him my visa credit card. "I'm sorry we don't take credit cards after 10pm"  (it is now 12am).  Do you accept check?....No...Cash only.... Oh please for the love of god do not kick me off this bus I so badly want to get home tonight I really don't want to stay in LA!!!!......Alright, you can hop off at the first stop, there's an ATM there you can get cash at.  Oh Thank You Santa Barbara Airbus Driver, You Are The BEST!!!!!!!

Trevor meanwhile left Italy on a Sunday and after a 10 hour layover in Turkey and 5+ flights zig-zagging the globe, he also missed his last connection on Tuesday and didn't get home until Wednesday night (3 days after his initial flight).  He was home for 24 hours and left the next day for his next conference in Baltimore.

It was not the least chaotic time of our life.

Moving, Marriage, and other Major Milestones

At a bachelorette party I attended this past year I was chatting with a friend of a friend about how long and miserable the flight from Europe to California is...the boring and unbearably cramped space with poorly circulated air and crappy food, then having to exchange your money, find your bags only to re-check your bags, the long line at customs, jet lag, germs, crowds, lines...  Awful!  Then another friend chimed in and said "Ya know, I used to feel the exact same way.  But now I have a kid... And what I used to think was miserable before, is all the more miserable now with a cranky baby that you are constantly trying to entertain, and keep from crying, and keep their diapers clean, and keep from offending everyone else on the flight...You have no idea what a treasure a long boring flight is! What I would do now for a 12 hour flight alone to myself!"

Wow, and I thought I had problems... My most recent problems?  Trying to figure out what to put on this wedding registry....first world, middle class, god-forbid-I-ever-have-anything-serious-to-worry-about problems.  I just spent I-don't-want-to-tell-you-how-much-time comparing prices and reviews on a garlic press, before I gave up.  I don't know which one to get!? Then I realized I have lived the past 30 years of my life without a darn garlic press and I am just fine.  I do not need a garlic press.  Moving on... Next item...  Egg slicer?  Seriously people!?  How often do you use an egg slicer?!  No, no, no, no no.

Ok, I do not really have any problems.  I realize that my life is pretty alright. But even without babies or any real catastrophes per se, life can be pretty stressful.

A couple months ago one of my co-workers asked me "so, when's the big day?"  This was the day after my work friends threw me a bridal shower, and two days after I handed in my two weeks notice that I was quitting, and 5 days before the last day in our Santa Barbara apartment, and the day my name had been posted on the company monitor as a summer birthday.... So, could you be a little more specific?  By "big day" do you mean my last day at work?  Or my last day in Santa Barbara? Or the day we move in to Boston?  Perhaps the day we start this epic road trip adventure? Maybe you mean the wedding day? Or were you thinking of my 30th birthday?  Because they are all pretty big days and they are all happening within 4 weeks time.

My original intention with planning it this way (yes this was planned), was to get everything over at once.  I knew that each of these life changing events would all be pretty darn stressful.  Moving across the country, finding a new place to live, leaving a job, finding a new place to work, planning a wedding, turning 30...all very chaotic and anxious events.  My genius idea was if I get them all out of the way at the exact same time, then I can limit the duration of time in which I will be an insanely nutty worrywart.  This plan is a great idea assuming one critical condition: that there is a limit to the level of anxiety one can achieve.  Well of course there is no possible way I could be more anxious then I am now, right?  Soooo sure! Why not then do it all at once? Could be worse right?  Right.

But hey, at least we don't have a crying baby to deal with on top of things, right?

Quality vs. quality

During the second half of our 5,000 friends weekend we went to a wedding of a former roommate along with lots of our friends from Trevor's masters program.  Because we are procrastinators, or in our defense, often unaware of what day it is, we missed the cutoff date for reserving a room with the discounted wedding rate.  To avoid the $200+ standard hotel room fee (if we were cheap before we are are even cheaper now), we booked a room at the $70 a night Quality Inn a few blocks away.  Sweet deal.

We check in at the lobby and head towards the elevator.  The elevator is a little dim and grimy but as long as the bedsheets and bathroom are clean, who cares about the communal areas right?  (Please let the sheets and bathroom be clean!)

We get into the elevator and press the button for floor two.  The doors start closing. Wow, it is dark in here!....  Crap there are no lights in this elevator!!  Doors close.  Pitch black.  

Then Trev has to go and say "uhh, I don't think we are moving..."

Panic!  Panic! Going to die in a hot, dark elevator!  Where is the alarm button?!  Call 911! 

Then the doors slowly open.  We are now on the second floor.  No more elevators.  Taking the stairs from here on out.

Aside from the light-less elevator, and the fact that:
1) they had no extra blankets (not even at the front desk),
2) they had only one towel in the bathroom,
3) you could only flush the toilet once an hour and
4) by the end of our stay the toilet handle broke off....

I would say it was quality.