The World of Stuff .com

Seattle

For over eight years, I’ve written about important things that have happened in my life. This, however, is the most important so far: having graduated from college, I’ve moved to a new city to start a full-time job. By all accounts, I have become a fully functioning adult.

It started with Kate coming to visit. On Saturday, May 14, I went to Orlando to pick her up from the airport, and we headed back to Gainesville. My main goal for the next few days was to get all my stuff ready to be shipped out. We tried to make the most of our last few days there, though, and that included spending time with my parents, who live nearby. So the next day, they picked us up, and we had Sunday brunch with them. Then I spent a lot of time getting the things together that I wanted to take with me to Seattle. In doing so, I had to finish unpacking the stuff that was still packed from when my parents moved to the house.

Being in college is a funny thing. You don’t really have a home. I didn’t really feel like I did, anyway. You live in a dorm room or an apartment, and you’re “home” with your parents very rarely. But what happens when your parents decide to move? Is the new home still your home if you’ve hardly ever spent any time in it? Even if they leave a bedroom for you with all the things you didn’t take to college, it’s a tough question to answer, and it makes it pretty annoying to talk about simple things.

My parents graciously took us back to my apartment that night. On the way, we picked up some food (I was trying to empty out my pantry, so I didn’t have much), including some chicken. Not actual raw chicken from the back of the grocery store, but the frozen, quasi-pre-cooked variety that you find in a bag with the frozen foods (or maybe somewhere else, I’ve never actually looked for it myself). Kate wanted to have chicken and pasta for dinner, and she insisted that I make everything. I would have to sautee the chicken and I didn’t know how (oh my god jordan u dont kno how to saute chicken????????????/), but Kate told me what to do, and it turned out okay. I used too much oil, but I thought it was fine.

I hate cooking, but I want to want to do it. I’m not sure why. I guess it’s because the ability to cook is the mark of a responsible, sophisticated adult, and those who subsist on microwaveable frozen dinners are seen as just plain sad. I also hope to have guests over often when I’m on my own, and it would be nice to treat them to something–or to have the utensils and ingredients available for them to treat me. Also, preparing your own food is cheaper and better for you and blah blah blah blah. After supervising two pieces of chicken in a pan of hot oil, I do have to say that I feel a little better about the daunting prospect of learning to cook.

On Monday, we went downtown to walk around. After that, we went to the mall so Kate could get a prepaid phone plan and I could get a household toolbox. I figured I needed one because I was trying to put my new vacuum cleaner together and the screwdriver on my Swiss army knife just wouldn’t do it. It was pretty late by the time we got there, and Kate had noted that we had never actually been on a proper date, so we had dinner at Macaroni Grill.

The next day, Tuesday, was our big day out. We started by going to the Einstein Bros. at UF, and then after a trip to the Harn Museum, we had Krishna lunch. After that, we split up so I could go back to my apartment. I had to meet the person who was taking over my lease, and we had to sign some paperwork. The management of my apartment complex wouldn’t let me break the lease (jordan y didnt u keep bugging them about it they wood have done it evenutally–too freaking bad, it already happened!), and the terms of my lease didn’t allow subleasing.

After that, I met up with Kate again at the 34th Street Wall, the only place in town where graffiti is tolerated. We checked out the artwork and messages that other people had put up, and then we headed to The Top, where we ate dinner. After that, we saw a movie (I Am) at the Hippodrome. The premise of the movie was pretty interesting: “What’s wrong with the world, and how can we fix it?” The short answer is pretty much what you’d expect: people are selfish, and they shouldn’t be. It was pretty good, though.

After that, we were really tired (especially Kate, who had been exploring Gainesville on foot while I was filling out paperwork), so we went back to the apartment.

On Wednesday, I concentrated on getting my stuff together so the movers could take it easily. They would be responsible for actually boxing things up, I took care of all the small and fragile items myself, leaving just the larger and/or box-shaped things. Also, Kate wanted to go tubing near my (parents’) house, so they picked us up and we floated down the Santa Fe River for a bit before heading back to the apartment.

Thursday, May 19, was moving day. The movers came in the morning, boxing up what needed to be boxed and taking everything I didn’t have in my suitcases. There were three of them, and it only took them an hour and 45 minutes. (They were pleased that they didn’t have to take most of the furniture; my apartment came furnished.) Later, we went back to the mall for another shot at getting a good phone plan for Kate, but we only got as far as having a late lunch before my parents were ready to pick us up.

They took us to the AT&T store, and after Kate had a new US phone number on an old phone (my old one), we went back to my apartment so I could get my bags and turn in my keys. Kate was sad that I was leaving since the place was full of good memories for her. I had had good, bad, and mediocre memories, and I knew I could do better living on my own, so I was more excited than anything.

Kate also wanted to kayak, but since we didn’t have time to do it the day before, we did it that day. The kayaks were already ready to go, so we just went down to the river again and put in. The trip took about two hours, which was a lot shorter than we thought it was going to be, and fortunately, it ended just before it was completely dark.

Our plan for the weekend was to go to the condo. “The condo” is my great-aunt’s condo that she lets her relatives use for part of the year. It’s on North Hutchinson Island in Fort Pierce, and it has a private beach and everything. I’ve been there more times than I can possibly count; I was even there as a fetus. We used to go at least once a year and sometimes even twice, but I hadn’t been there for three years. In 2009, I was in Europe, and last year, we didn’t go because my parents were busy getting ready to move.

At the condo, we went to the beach a lot and spent some time playing Ping-Pong in the game room downstairs. It was a great way to enjoy my last days as a Florida resident, except for the mosquitoes that came out in full force.

From the condo, we went directly to Orlando International Airport, where I said goodbye to my parents and sister. Goodbyes are the hardest part of moving, but in today’s world, distance is less important than it used to be. I’ve still been calling my parents and texting my sister, just as I did when I lived close to them.

After a six-hour flight that didn’t seem quite as long, Kate and I were in Seattle. Kate had never been there, and I had only first visited a few weeks ago, but we managed to get around with the help of a cheesy tourist map I had kept from my first visit. I had corporate housing; the corporate housing company rents an apartment at an apartment complex and lets you live there for a limited time, providing maid-type services occasionally.

To pick up the keys, we had to go to a different apartment complex (it happened to be one that I had looked at during my previous visit), so we had a lot of walking to do with our heavy bags. But finally, we made it to our destination, and shortly thereafter went out in search of food.

Across the street was a French crepe place, so we went in. The only person there was an old woman who spoke very little English. You had to order your food by number, and we soon found out why. Facing the woman was a list of numbers with English pronunciations written phonetically in Russian. Kate was able to talk to her in Russian. We surmised that it was a family business making Russian bliny (“pancakes”), which are very similar or identical to crepes. Of course, crepes are more familiar to Americans.

The next day, we were faced with the task of finding more food. Kate had made a grocery list, and I went to about four nearby and not-so-nearby stores with little success. But we managed to get her basics (yogurt, bread, cheese, lunchmeat), so that would be enough to last a little while.

Then we spent about eight hours moseying around Seattle, enjoying the sights and checking out some significant places in the history of grunge music (Kate is a grunge fan and has wanted to visit Seattle for half her life). We also ended up doing quite a bit of shopping. It was all exhausting, and when we got back to the apartment, I went to bed early, hopefully not entirely due to the jet lag.

This morning, Andy is coming to visit us. We’re about to go pick him up from the airport. As you can see, I haven’t had much of an opportunity to describe my feelings about moving; I’ve only had time to talk about what we did. Hopefully after the dust settles and I get more quiet time, I can reflect on what it’s like to move across the country and start what I guess amounts to a new life (although I’m still me).

Also, I’ve changed the time zone on my blog, so this and future posts will be on Pacific Time. The “EST” designation is hardcoded (I guess I never thought I’d move or that WordPress would support Daylight Saving Time), and I’ll have to figure out how to change it. Again, I’ll be able to do that eventually.