Wednesday
Nov042009
Move Is A Four Letter Word
Wednesday, November 4, 2009 at 9:23AM | Mr Lady
For those of you not particularly versed in my brand of convoluted double-speak, I'm not in Canada anymore.
It's not so much that I got kicked out, per se, as it is that I was asked to hold up my end of a rather large, life altering bargain. That bargain was that as long as my husband was gainfully employed in Socialist, Pot Smoking Gay Loving, Insuring Everyone Canada, we could live and work there. Once his work visa failed to be valid, for whatever reason, we'd agreed in official black ball point ink to vacate the country within 30 days. His visa became unvalidedadated on October 10th. And we hadn't started finishing our applications for permanent residency, so here we are. In the land of milk and honey. The promised land. The land of tolerance and acceptance, unless you have much better sex then all the straight, fat white dudes. Then fuck you.
Where we are isn't important yet, because we're not anywhere yet. We're in the middle of one of thoseextended-stay hotels in the middle of some big city we don't know. We don't have an address yet. We don't have anything yet, except the suitcases we brought with us containing enough clothes and Axe body spray to get us through the next few weeks. And a bunch of towels. Because I'd left 2 towels out for after the people took all our crap away on the vans, which was rather clever of me, so woot, except that I'd checked the dryer before they left with my life in 4X4 boxes, but not the washer, so I got to bring with me an entire load of bath towels, which I don't even want to know how long they sat in that washer.
But some guy named Kevin is driving a rather large van in my direction, and should be here within a week, 10 days max, and he seems like a stand up guy and I certainly hope h is because he's got my car, my china, my Mac and my Lady of Perpetual Hor D'ourves, which is admittedly more important to me than my wedding photos, in which I am the same weight I came in at yesterday fatter than I've ever been in my whole life.
The hotel has a fitness room. I've walked through it 5 times. Baby steps.
I'd left out a bunch of DVD's and the Wii to bring with us, because 800 square feet is really damn big until you put 5 people, who all like to fart, in it. Of course, once the house was empty and we were signing, literally, our life away on a van lines form, we realized they'd packed the Wii and the DVD's. Why? Because on the bottom of that contract, near the dotted line, were in big block letters, VIP ACCOUNT.
Whuuu?
I asked the Kevin dude what that was all about and he said, I dunno, but there it is, and I said, well shit, yo, I guess I should have gone slightly fancier than the box of Happy Meals I brought over for lunch, and we all scratched our butts together for a minute and then he was gone with my very VIP Ikea bedroom furniture and my insanely fancy VIP 4 year old Target wardrobe.
And here we are, bored off our butts, with only the fucking scary as piss movies we bought the kids to watch on Halloween because there's not exactly a good amount of trick or treating to be done in the middle of a corporate extended stay hotel somewhere in the industrial sector of America, and a bunch of new cell phones which were a brilliant purchase if you're not above buying your children off after totally fucking their lives, but not so brilliant in the you have to spend 2 1/2 weeks in an 800 sq foot extended-stay hotel room with 3 antsy kids and two very loud, very much so texting all day and night cell phones.
Pray for me people.
It's not so much that I got kicked out, per se, as it is that I was asked to hold up my end of a rather large, life altering bargain. That bargain was that as long as my husband was gainfully employed in Socialist, Pot Smoking Gay Loving, Insuring Everyone Canada, we could live and work there. Once his work visa failed to be valid, for whatever reason, we'd agreed in official black ball point ink to vacate the country within 30 days. His visa became unvalidedadated on October 10th. And we hadn't started finishing our applications for permanent residency, so here we are. In the land of milk and honey. The promised land. The land of tolerance and acceptance, unless you have much better sex then all the straight, fat white dudes. Then fuck you.
Where we are isn't important yet, because we're not anywhere yet. We're in the middle of one of thoseextended-stay hotels in the middle of some big city we don't know. We don't have an address yet. We don't have anything yet, except the suitcases we brought with us containing enough clothes and Axe body spray to get us through the next few weeks. And a bunch of towels. Because I'd left 2 towels out for after the people took all our crap away on the vans, which was rather clever of me, so woot, except that I'd checked the dryer before they left with my life in 4X4 boxes, but not the washer, so I got to bring with me an entire load of bath towels, which I don't even want to know how long they sat in that washer.
But some guy named Kevin is driving a rather large van in my direction, and should be here within a week, 10 days max, and he seems like a stand up guy and I certainly hope h is because he's got my car, my china, my Mac and my Lady of Perpetual Hor D'ourves, which is admittedly more important to me than my wedding photos, in which I am the same weight I came in at yesterday fatter than I've ever been in my whole life.
The hotel has a fitness room. I've walked through it 5 times. Baby steps.
I'd left out a bunch of DVD's and the Wii to bring with us, because 800 square feet is really damn big until you put 5 people, who all like to fart, in it. Of course, once the house was empty and we were signing, literally, our life away on a van lines form, we realized they'd packed the Wii and the DVD's. Why? Because on the bottom of that contract, near the dotted line, were in big block letters, VIP ACCOUNT.
Whuuu?
I asked the Kevin dude what that was all about and he said, I dunno, but there it is, and I said, well shit, yo, I guess I should have gone slightly fancier than the box of Happy Meals I brought over for lunch, and we all scratched our butts together for a minute and then he was gone with my very VIP Ikea bedroom furniture and my insanely fancy VIP 4 year old Target wardrobe.
And here we are, bored off our butts, with only the fucking scary as piss movies we bought the kids to watch on Halloween because there's not exactly a good amount of trick or treating to be done in the middle of a corporate extended stay hotel somewhere in the industrial sector of America, and a bunch of new cell phones which were a brilliant purchase if you're not above buying your children off after totally fucking their lives, but not so brilliant in the you have to spend 2 1/2 weeks in an 800 sq foot extended-stay hotel room with 3 antsy kids and two very loud, very much so texting all day and night cell phones.
Pray for me people.
Reader Comments (58)
Oh man. Sounds awful. Best of luck and here's hoping you get settled very soon. xoxo
Oh, how I feel your pain. When we moved up here we spent 5 weeks in an extended stay. There was only 4 of us at the time, but we had less space. We did have a free "happy hour" that we took advantage of, though; M-F from 4pm to 6pm. The antsy lobby guy used to shut down the chafing dishes at 5:57pm. Bastard. To this day I can't get the boys to eat mini pigs-in-a-blanket or cheese cubes again.
Holy Shit. This is way scarier than Paranormal Activity. Videotape everything. Become millionaire. List me in credits next to Grip Boy.
Also, *hugs*. Moving sucks ass even when it is planned. This move sounds like it was waiting for you in a dark alley with a crow bar and two friends.
So...I was wrong about MAUI? Dammit!
Hang in there chica! And just fyi, if you need a tolerant place to go - WA state is looking up! ;) We're working on the rest though...sadly.
See, I totally think I could live forever in a hotel. Of course, without the kids, and with all-you-can-watch pay per view, but still.
Welcome home.
Yikes. Maybe let the kids hide the Sharpies from you. Last time I got bored of having a tiny crisis living in a hotel I wrote poetry all over the walls, which helped my *feelings* but which meant I couldn't let housekeeping in the room the rest of my stay. Also, ackward at check-out.
Grah. That sucks on so many levels. Hopefully you can at least escape the confines to somewhere entertaining for you and the kids. And do I take that to mean you're still applying for perm residency in the great white north?
corporate relo's aren't all bad. because when you are in your new house, you will look back at those 2.5 weeks in an extended stay hotel/motel/apartment and remind yourself that if you were to have to clean, you could do it before your kids could find and lace up their shoes.
Man how I miss those temporary living assignments.
Geezo, that really sucks. :: INSERT INSPIRATIONAL COMMENT HERE ::
We miss you dreadfully.
Many happy returns in the new place and come back soon!
That's hard. We did the same thing when we moved to Oklahoma, but it was just me, Hubs and two dogs. You win.
Hugs and kisses.
Thinking good thoughts for you guys. I hope that it all comes together soon, that you have your stuff and a home and considerably more than 800 square feet in an extended-stay hotel.
Hi,
I really hope you get settled soon, if not for your sake, then for the sake of all 3. Plus one.
Relax, I keep saying your zen place is in your pillow, the more time you spend with your pillow, the higher your chance of achieving zen.
Take Care
Remember to properly copyright this post. Or else you'll watch Saw VII next year and think "gee, this looks strangely familiar."
Hoping you guys move quickly and quickly settle into another home.
I am also totally pissed about Maine, and second your "fuck you."
As far as the rest goes...I got nothing.
In Blog We Trust:: Move Is A Four Letter Word http://www.whiskeyinmysippycup.com/2009/11/04/moving/
if you're anywhere near seattle, let me know. i'll come entertain you and your kids. shit, i'll babysit and you and your old man can go get plowed. sounds like you could use it.
all my sympathies, for sure, love. hang in there... canada sucks anyway. ;-)
xo
b.
well... fuck.
Feel free to edit that out.
Hope you all get settle soon. Sorry for all the suckage and hope that goes away soon too.
I miss you. Even if we only met in real, flesh-life person once, I really, seriously, completely and utterly miss you. Shannon, I really wish I had spent more time with you. I suck. I suck so bad.
But at least I got to give you five hugs. And I got a Spiderman goodie bag. And Jesus. And salsa. But more importantly... I got the reassurance that our friendship will last.
I will visit you in the land where the heat is on.
Love you lots,
Raul
I wish you were close enough to bring food/entertainment to.
I bet the kids think this is a pretty amazing adventure though. I think I would have at that age, anyway.
McDonald's solves everything. Welcome back.
Holy cow, that sounds like my worst nightmare! Good luck with everything! Can't wait to hear where you land.
Wow, worse than my moves. And I mean that in a very sympathetic way.
If you were anywhere near the Chicago Burbs, we would have offered you fajitas (made by hubby), martinis and Wii fun with the kids. You could have helped us try to find the wayward hamster that has been missing for 4 weeks.
You are a VIP! But I feel you on the hotel stay. Hope it's over soon!
When we moved to Hawaii, we rented a 200-square-foot beach-front shack for three weeks. Best $50 per night ever spent. When that ran out, we lived out of my Subaru until we got a house. Which sucked.
When we moved from Hawaii to Chicago on one week of notice, with a three-month-old baby, we got a house lined up in time, but got to wait two months for our moving crates to show up. Which sucked.
But still, sorry. The previous offer stands, plus dinner.
Moving is the pits. If you were anywhere near San Francisco I'd say come hang out. I'd make margaritas or something. It sounds like you could use a few. Good luck!!
It SOO sucks to be displaced. Wishing you find your new home and sense of "belonging" soon...and if you're in Portland (Oregon) you could come to my house for Wii, kids/boys hanging out and vodka.
RT @mrlady: In Blog We Trust: yeah, I got thrown out of a socialist country. http://www.whiskeyinmysippycup.com/2009/11/04/moving/
RT @mrlady In Blog We Trust: yeah, I got thrown out of a socialist country. http://bit.ly/1gfY70
I'd have sympathy, except you are unfuckingbelievably able to make vodka cocktails out of lemonade and I know you're sitting there in 800 sf temporary-digs heaven, planning the next move to keep you at the top of the heap.
Welcome back. The best part of living in a hotel? ROOM SERVICE. Take advantage of it while you can.
it sounds like you could use a hit off the siphon pot at Blue Bottle Coffee in S.F. If you're in this neighborhood (heck you could be *anywhere*, right?) shoot me an email, and I will scoot over the newly reconstructed, newly reopened to traffic, Bay Bridge (read: pain in the ass week-long closure resulting from shoddy-ass Labor Day repair job on crack in major component on bridge that carries 1/2 million cars per day, oy).
Northern California is really lovely. I've never been to Canada, so heck, what's my point? um, I think if you've been driven bat-shit crazy enough from being in 800 sq. ft. with anyone, you are talking to the right mother here, as I spent 11 YEARS sharing 900 sq ft. of living space with my husband, 2 young kids (at the time) and 2 german shepherd dogs. We moved on up in the world to 5,000 sq. ft, and I can say "GRATITUDE" with the best of 'em.
I think you can pretty much post your location (generalized, I'm sure) anywhere in the U.S. of A and someone here will reach out and grab you for an in real life hug!
Seriously, if you are a coffee nut like I am, you will think you've died and gone to heaven after a cuppa at Blue Bottle!
Love,
Julie
Wait. What? WHAT? You're not here anymore?? I was going to email you about coming over at Christmas and...WHAT??
Dude. I'm here if you need to talk. Or, just here. And sad that you're not.
Living out of suitcases in a hotel? Good luck with your sanity.
No truly, I hope everything works out soon.
It should make for some great blog fodder.
Man, I don't know what to say to lessen this blow. Moving absolutely fucking sucks. But hey, I made Texas work for me for seven years, so I think you'll figure out a way. I'll come down there in the spring, okay? xoxo
When I met you at BlogHer, I thought you were pretty badass. But now that I know you're stuck somewhere, in the middle of moving somewhere, where you have no fucking clue really about why you're somewhere?
FUCK.
I wish I was close to CA.
xo love.
I don't ever want to move again! We have too much stuff! Let me know if you are anywhere near Detroit.
"A towel, it says, is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitchhiker can have. Partly it has great practical value. You can wrap it around you for warmth as you bound across the cold moons of Jaglan Beta; you can lie on it on the brilliant marble-sanded beaches of Santraginus V, inhaling the heady sea vapors; you can sleep under it beneath the stars which shine so redly on the desert world of Kakrafoon; use it to sail a miniraft down the slow heavy River Moth; wet it for use in hand-to-hand-combat; wrap it round your head to ward off noxious fumes or avoid the gaze of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal (such a mind-boggingly stupid animal, it assumes that if you can't see it, it can't see you); you can wave your towel in emergencies as a distress signal, and of course dry yourself off with it if it still seems to be clean enough."
Oooooh yeah, BTDT. That's been my life for the past eight years, since my husband and I married and he signed his life away with the military. The first time I lived in a 100 sq ft hotel room for 6 weeks was when I was 21, moving to Germany, and had only a rambunctious black lab to amuse. The second time was shorter - for 3 weeks - in an even smaller room, and with a 4 year old and a 12 month old. In Okinawa in August, when the temps outside were at 90+ with a humidity level of 100%. That room grew smaller every day.
Hope you get settled soon!
See? If you were in Ohio you all could be living in my basement. I have liquor.
i hate nothing more than being bored out of my mind in a hotel room. if i had an address, i'd send you chocolate or something.
Damn girl. I disappear for a few days and you done up and moved your ass to another country. Kind of. Sorry you and yours got stuck in a shitty situation. I hope you get settled somewhere soon. In the meantime, don't forget how to laugh. You will need to laugh to keep from crying. And drinks. Lots and lots of drinks.
Wow. Crazy. I'm sorry about the crazy, and I'll be hoping that this leads to something good for you guys!
Is it a good thing or a bad thing that so many of us want to get you drunk?
I feel for you. Going to start a new job in a strange city 600 miles away from my family in a couple weeks. My wife does have family down the road but they can sometimes be pretty scary themselves. Too bad you weren't in the vicinity, would've taken your kids out for Halloween. My eight year old nephew would've enjoyed the company.
Yikes. Moving sucks massively. I would know as I've done it like 30 times since I graduated high school. Never done the move to a different country though. State to state but not different country. Thinking of you and hoping the getting settled thing goes well wherever you are.
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my dreams of having a random "Mr. Lady sighting" while dashing around Van-city have been dashed!