New Place, New Adventure, New Home?

Well, I'm basically moved into my new place, minus a few things left at my mom's.

I really don't like moving. For me it's exceptionally painful because of all the stuff I've gathered over the years; be it books, video equipment, or just junk that I choose to keep. When moving it I pretty much made a huge pile of my possessions on the floor of my room (3rd floor... again :( ) and ever since I have been sorting into new piles and then finding ways to build up or tuck away everything so it fits.

Moving has also had some physical strain to it. Jamie (my roommate) and I were given a refrigerator for free by someone at the church. We picked it up, even though it had a non-functional freezer side. We figured we'd get it fixed. Nice, big, spacious, expensive... ours. So we loaded it on the truck and brought it to the house. The thing weighed a ton, so Jamie and I shimmied it to the door, where we did our geometric calculations of if it would fit through the doorway. Our neighbor, James, was quick to inform us there was no way. So we proceeded to remove the doors... for about an hour. It was ridiculous how much trouble we had removing the bolts with a wrench set. But after some hard work (not really that hard), and me mostly just watching, the doors were off... and so were the gloves!

We acquired another helping hand neighbor, Justin, whom we had never met. So Jamie, James, Justin, and Jsteve embarked on a mission doomed from the start. Four men, verse an enemy of immense proportions... The Refrigorator (spelled wrong purposely for dramatic affect).

Even with the doors off, this fridge was huge and barely fitting up our stairs. Jamie and James took the top half, while Justin and I were at the bottom. The two of us on the bottom had to push this behemoth up the stairs on it's side while James and Jamie drank espresso. Ok, they didn't really, but I do feel like the bottom half had a much harder time. Justin quickly became injured, spilling his blood all over our box of bruises. Champ he was though, he continued on, just missing 3 fingers and an earlobe after the accident.

Now the setup of our house is this. Walk in, take a few steps, greet the stairs, walk up the stairs, come to a brief leveling off, turn 90 degrees right, and walk up a few more stairs. We remarkable got the fridge up the first flight of stairs, and even more remarkably, finagled it into the area separating the two sets of stairs. It really just fit in there. As we were pushing and pulling and kicking and punching and firing our handguns in the air, Jamie almost died. It's true. On a push, when Jamie wasn't paying good enough attention, the fridge almost smashed his head against the wall, concluding in instant death. Now I've since though this scenario through, and have no doubt that our thin walls would have given out on the other side of his head before an eyelash would be bent. But overall, I think we all nearly died or lost a limb in this exercise of appliance moving.

We were almost there. Only 5 steps separated us from a new half-working fridge in the kitchen. Unfortunately we were stuck. It wouldn't fit. Wedged. Ahh! Even if we could push it through somehow, there was a door frame sticking out at the top of the steps that it wouldn't get by. So after ripping up our carpet, scratching off most of the paint on the walls, causing a man to bleed, and nearly killing Jamie, it was time to abandon ship. So we all jumped in the fridge and rode it down the steps like a tabogan. We slid out the door, taking the door with us, and right into the Allegheny River, which conveniently found its way right out side my house at that moment. Ever since we have been sailing the Pennsylvanian sea, in that fridge, looking for booty of the female variety. Yaaaarrrrrr!

So anyway, now we have a new smaller fridge that works. We have a furnished living room, dining room, and we're working on a study. I feel bad that Jamie is all set up mostly, and I'm still sorting my crap. But thus is life.

I feel secluded in this house for some reason. I feel kind of like I'm a million miles away from my friends and family; which is strange because I'm about a mile away, much closer than my last place. The house doens't really feel like home. Perhaps when some friends visit and some memories are formed it will be more homey. But I think this will be a fairly long-term living situation for me, so I'd better get used to it. It really is a very nice place, I just need to finish my room so I can relax a bit.

I'm pretty tired and need to do a little more work before bed, so off I go.