Posted By Kristabella on April 29, 2009
So I’ve moved a lot in my life. And most of those moves have come in the last 15 years or so. Basically from the time I moved to Arizona for college, I’ve moved a ton. Up until my current apartment, I had never lived in the same place for more than 2 years since 1995. So when it comes to packing and moving? I have it down.
That doesn’t make it any easier. Also the fact that I haven’t done it in four years and have accumulated a shit-ton of crap in that time, really makes it a pain in the ass.
You know how in your closet you have all these clothes where you’re like “I’ll fit in that again” or “Oh yeah! I forgot about that shirt! I’m so going to start wearing it again!” And then you don’t? Because there was a reason you stopped wearing it in the first place? And who are you kidding, it isn’t like you’re going to fit in those pants that are 7 sizes smaller than your current pants.
I don’t do that with clothes. I do that with stupid things like t-shirts and luggage, apparently.
So last night I figured I should do some more packing. Since I’ve booked the movers to come in a little over a week, I should really get my shit together and have it all packed and ready to go. I really want to carry nothing at all and make the men I’m PAYING to carry things do it all on their own. So I figured I could pack a lot of my drawers in my ginormous suitcase.
I know it doesn’t look huge, but it is. The top of it comes up to about my hip and I have like a 36-inch inseam. Which will only mean a lot to those of you who know what your inseam is. Trust me, it’s a big suitcase. I think I used it once. I bought it because when I would come home from SF to Chicago for vacations, I never had enough room in my suitcase. So I bought this about 6 months before I got shitcanned from the 49ers and moved back to Chicago.
Also, it is kind of heavy when it is empty, so you’re guaranteed to pay the over 50 pounds fee if you actually fill it.
Anyway, I pulled this out of the closet last night and it was HEAVY. And I’m like “what the hell is in here? Something I’ve clearly not used in FOUR YEARS.” So, crucial stuff clearly.
It was a shit-ton of duffel bags and smaller suitcases. I’m not kidding I was like Mary Poppins pulling bags out of that suitcase. It was like a magician who keeps pulling on that handkerchief in his pocket and it NEVER ENDS! It was a clown car for duffel bags! See?
I know what you’re thinking, that’s not that many duffel bags. Well these duffel bags? Are stuffed with duffel bags! Six years of working in the NFL and all I have to show for it is 17 duffel bags! All of which are large enough to hold dead bodies!
They are nice for moving (which is clearly why I hung on to them), but they will be going to Good Will. So some murderer can buy that Training Camp 2002 duffel bag to hold pieces of that hiker they chopped up in the forest. (That was morbid.)
But clearly I have a hording problem. Exhibit B:
That is a lot of glasses. You must be thinking that I have a lot of large parties and only will let my guests drink out of glass cups. You would be wrong.
These? Are all the beer glasses I’ve stolen in my life. Well, basically in the last 10 years. And actually, almost all of these came when I lived in San Francisco. It was a problem. But one glass was always cooler than the next. And now I have quite a collection. A collection that sits in the cabinet above the fridge to never see the light of day. But I can’t get rid of them. I EARNED those. And some of them are sentimental, including the one with the American flag on it that some dude was going to FIGHT me for because while he didn’t work at the bar, he didn’t appreciate me stealing.
There are about 30 in all (actually one less since my Gordon Biersch one broke when I was loading the dishwasher at my new place tonight.) (So Lori, we need to go to Gordon Biersch next time I’m there so I can get another one.)
One day, when I have a house larger than a shoebox, I plan to have a cabinet built to display all these glasses. Because I cannot get rid of them. And what else am I going to do? Drink out of them?
The only fun part of packing, besides the upcoming unpacking in my new HOME, is torturing the cats by sticking packing tape to their heads and sticking them in boxes that they can’t jump out of. I will try and capture this on video with my new camera. Because I’m sure this is exactly the reason my realtor bought me one.