Movin' On Out

I moved to Ohio over a week ago. Then I neglected my blog for awhile. I have no idea why, but let's just blame it on terrorists (they are our nation's catch-all scapegoats, right?).

So as many of you know, the University of Dayton paid for my move, which was super-awesome. I didn't know it until shortly before my move, but this also included having the movers pack my things for me. I did not have to pack anything at all, which was really easy and weird for me. It was easy (and a little weird) because I just had all of my stuff out as if nothing were changing, and within 3 hours it was all gone. This made it feel very weird because, I have found, packing is a big part of moving. It really did not feel like I was moving because there was no build-up, no packing to do, no boxes to walk around, nothing. It wasn't until all my things were gone that it really hit me that I would be leaving.

Well, maybe that's not totally true....the previous Monday I had spent the day with my friend Zae. I think that's when it really hit me and I started to realize that I was moving away from Kalamazoo and the people there, and I began to mourn the loss and be sad. Then it all moved quickly from there.

Still, it was awesome to have all my stuff packed for me. The movers were cool, although it was kind of weird to have two guys going through all my stuff to put it into boxes. Not that I have any embarrassing things, but imagine if some random men came into your home and shuffled through your clothes, books, food, games, closets, bathroom, etc. They were very friendly, though, and we chatted a bit. Unfortunately, I forgot the most important rule about being a psychologist: when someone asks you what you do for a living, never ever EVER tell them that you are a psychologist. Ever! Why? It prompts questions from people such as one of the movers asked me: "If you're a psychologist, tell me this: Why are all women crazy?" (my answer, incidentally, was "Because they can be and men will put up with it." This avoided creating tension by lecturing him about feminism, as well as avoided pissing off the guy who had all my belongings in his truck.)

The movers packed everything, including my dirty dishes (which I had intended to wash and bring with me in my car) and about 10 empty plastic shopping bags for some reason....however, I had to encourage them to pack my vacuum and 30-pound bag of dog food.

Also, at one point the movers asked if I wouldn't mind running down to the corner to buy them some Gatorade. On the way to the corner, I thought it odd that they were trusting me, someone they just met, with their $5....then on the way back I thought that it was a safe risk on their part, seeing as how if I ran off with their money they would still have everything I own in their truck.....

One of the movers found my Rorschach (inkblot) cards. Not only did he recognize the name of the test, but he also began to complain about how he had a psychologist piss him off by asking him to tell her what he saw in the inkblots. "It doesn't friggin' look like anything! But she kept telling me to try....I told her that I'd try to shove it down her throat if she didn't stop bothering me." For those of you who do not know, the inkblot test is typically used when there are concerns about a thought disorder, stress/coping difficulties, or emotional problems.....and what he said about what he said to the psychologist giving him the test wasn't a good thing, either....and this guy was in charge of all my worldly possessions (with the exception of all the crap I still have stored at my dad's house).

ANYhow.....after all my stuff was gone, I spent a few hours in my empty apartment...just me and my dog....before heading over to my friend Caroline's house. She was nice enough to let me spend the night there with the air conditioner and fans I let her use, so I thought it only fair to bring her food from my fridge before moving. I am so very nice....

I also took Caroline to dinner to say good-bye before my move. While at dinner, a waiter began flirting with her right in front of me! We aren't dating or anything, but how the Hell did he know that? I don't like that, so I did the only thing I could do....when he came back and asked if we needed anything else, I calmly responded "I'm fine, but my wife would like some more water." That made him stop flirting with her real fast (Caroline was speechless). I am also very awesome.....

The trip down to Ohio the next day was pretty uneventful. All my stuff made it here intact, and I unpacked most of it that day. That was cool. Since the movers packed everything in moving paper, I got to unwrap it all while trying to guess what it was...kinda like Christmas, except I got surprised to receive things I already owned ("Yay, my sax stand....I'm so glad I own this!"). Wound up with a ton of boxes and enough wadded-up moving paper to keep homeless people warm for years to come!

My apartment is nice, although the walls, doors, windows, and door-trims are white. I may paint them; I'll have to see how I feel about it after being here for a little while and hanging up my art.

My dog had been afraid of the stairs to my bedroom...she's better about that now. However, she is still not eating or drinking as much as she had been in Kalamazoo, and isn't quite as playful. So sad, she's having a bit of trouble with the transition. But like I said, she's getting better....

The people I work with are all great, and I expect it to be a very enjoyable time working with them. I have been encouraged to pursue my interests, and am treated as an equal staff member. I have also been asked to lead a discussion in a professional development meeting on problematic Internet use/addiction. Should be fun!

Oh, and I now have real health insurance. Bring on the diseases! :-D

Cell phone is all hooked up, and I have even downloaded a few games that it turns out I don't enjoy so much. I have also quickly become one of those people who talks on the phone while walking my dog, going to the supermarket, and driving around. It will be so bad once I meet more people around here to call.

(yeah, I am working on that, too....)

Now all I need to do is finish putting away that box of extra computer cables and shoes, and meet some more people around here, and I will be all set.....until something else comes up, that is......

Coming Up Next....

Sunday night is Simpsons night, usually. Just me, Homer, and some Taco Bell. Tonight, however, this marvel of television comedy (truly one of the best television programs ever produced) was pre-empted by "The Kids' Choice Awards." Turns out that it is hosted by one of my favorite comedians ever, Dane Cook, who unfortunately hasn't been funny all night....could be that his co-host, Jessica Simpson, has the timing of a retarded brick. Besides, he really isn't a "Kids' Choice" kind of guy.

But why then, you might wonder, have I been watching this craptastic programme (yeah, I used the British spelling...I am awesome)? Simple: they have been hyping the first ever performance, and a live one in front of millions of viewers on national television at that, by Kevin Federline. Yes, the biggest-douche-ever-to-accidentally-find-fame-just-by-being-a-huge-douche Kevin Federline (or as he prefers, b/c his is such a douche, "K-Fed"). Now, just why would his performance debut keep me tuned in? Simple:

I want to see him do horribly. Like so horribly that they talk about it on television the next day and late-night talk shows lampoon it for weeks to come. Like so horribly that if I miss it, I will be so ticked off.

However, if he doesn't royally suck, I will feel like I wasted so much time....so who'd be the douche then?

Fumbling Towards Hell

Since I am moving soon, I was very fortunate to be able to spend an entire day with Zae, one of my closest friends from my time here in Kalamazoo. After dining on the delectable deliciousness which is Taco Bob's (http://www.tacobobs.com Taco Bob's is a froggin' awesome eatery on the Kalamazoo Open Mall!) and hanging out at my apartment for a bit (http://www.cryingwhileeating.com) and taking pictures of one of us in a fancy gown, we decided to go to a place I have been meaning to travel to since moving out here:

We decided to have dinner in Hell. Hell, Michigan.

Hell, Michigan (not to be confused with the Hell I incur in knowing that Koala Bears are so adorable, but for some reason also have to be so very far away from me) is a small town located about ninety minutes away from Kalamazoo. There is a history and novelty behind the town (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hell,_Michigan#History), too. I just wanted to go because it seemed like a neat idea to dine in Hell, and also satisfied my desire to take a car trip with Zae (we had intended to a few times, but she couldn't get off of work....stupid monkeys...). I was glad she came; I really wanted Zae to go to Hell.

And I still want to go to Hell, Michigan, since we never made it there. On the way, Zae ordered me to pull over and then had her way with me until we both fell asleep from exhaustion.

(yeah, she wishes that happened!)

Actually, we didn't make it to Hell, Michigan because we could not find Hell, Michigan. We had directions from Mapquest (http://www.pieceofshit.com), but there was a detour on the way to Hell (does that mean we wound up in purgatory?). We stopped at a grocery store, where two ladies gave us very different directions when they sent us to Hell. As it turns out, the town of Hell, Michigan is close to the town of Howell, Michigan, just to make it ever so much more eventful to try to go to Hell. Also, Hell, Michigan is very close to Mt. Hope and Pleasant Lake, for some damn absurd reason, and the town line to Hell, Michigan apparently begins at a Methodist Church (see previously cited reason).

But, again, we got lost (or the ladies just gave us horrid directions) and just could not manage to go to Hell. So, we did the next best thing: We stopped at a Bob's Big Boy restaurant in Chelsea, Michigan. Being that the day had been so hot that we both wished for air conditioning, it was appropriate that on our trip to Hell we had our wish granted in the form of an arctic-like temperature in the restaurant. Zae ordered chili, and was dismayed that it turned out that not only did they not serve her chili, but that the waitress explained it after taking our order by carrying a bag of red slime while saying "this is all I could find." So, Zae had cheese soup (isn't that just melted cheese?) and a baked potato, while I ate some chicken dish which prompted me to ask aloud several times "what is this thing over here on my plate?" Later, I would wonder why Zae did not dip the tortillas from my meal (which she ate, while not enjoying them, again appropriate for a trip to Hell) into her cheese soup. I would quickly stop wondering about this, though, as it was a stupid thing to waste my time wondering about.

After dinner on this trip toward Hell, Zae immediately found herself wanting for McDonald's french fries. And lo, there was a McDonald's closeby, and it was good (except for the part where Zae felt ill from all the crappy food in her gullet...then I served her Tirmasu later, which probably didn't help). Fortunately, we did get the following undoctored pictures while in the McDonald's drive-thru:



Seems appropriate for a trip to Hell, don't they?

(also appropriate for such a trip, I felt really sad after I dropped Zae off and had to say good-bye for who-knows-how-long...but that's for another blog posting.....)

A Plan and The Dumbest Phonecall Ever

Whoever you are reading this right now, I have a proposition for you:

Let's make a baby. Right now.

No, really, hear me out.....

There is a group of people who live in my building who seem to have made some babies within the past two years. Now they don't have to go to work, and they get to stay at home all the time sitting outside being entertained by their many friends at all hours of the day and night while people are trying to sleep. PLUS they don't have to bathe ever and somehow found a way to get a cellphone plan that grants them unlimited walkie-talkie-yelling-into-the-phone-because-you-can't-be-bothered-to-hold-it-up-to-your-face minutes and a chirping sound which can pierce the deepest parts of their neighbors' brains. Also, I don't know why, but it's always the same guy there, but different portly women with him. I refer to them as "The Rotating Round-Girl Apartment." As for the children themselves, I imagine that they have developed super-human immunities to the germs and whatever else might get onto their toys when they are left outside in the muck near their patio overnight.

So, if you want to have plenty of leisure time and a very large number of friends, let's get started making a baby.

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I received the dumbest phonecall ever this afternoon. I came home from work early because I am leaving soon and there is nothing for me to do there except for move two boxes out of my office (I am pacing myself and leaving that for tomorrow). I called my voicemail at work to check my messages, and hung up when I heard that I had none. My phone immediately rang and, when I answered it and said hello, a computerized voice replied:

"Good-bye." And then it hung up. Yes, I received a call to say good-bye. That is dumb.