moving day

7/12/99

Sorry I've been sketchy about updating lately. You know how it gets.

I can't believe I'm moving. Today John and I are loading up the truck. Tomorrow we're outta here. A couple of stops to drop off furniture with friends/family and we're on the road.

Freaking Georgia. Hot, humid, sunny, snow-free. I've grown up in Michigan, never lived anywhere else. My parents and friends are here. I love to travel and move around, but this is nuts. I love Michigan.

There's no place to watch a fat sunset in Georgia. The sky's not as big. The fields aren't flat. How can peaches compare to Great Lakes?

John and I had a fucking adventure trying to get the moving truck this morning. John had made the reservation with Ryder's national 800 number two weeks ago, using my credit card and a military discount. The quote at that time was about $480. They told us to pick it up at the Ryder place in East Lansing. So guess who had no idea we were coming? No paperwork, nothing.

So the East Lansing people did everything they could, gave a furious John 10 percent off, and it came to $750. We drove back home, truckless, and called the 800 people again.

John was on the phone with Ryder for 30 minutes or so. Was passed from one service rep to another, from supervisor to supervisor, each one asking him to spell his name and telling him that there was no reservation in the computer for him. They had one under MY name, strangely enough, since I'd called just to check rates, but I never reserved anything.

He moved slowly up the chain of Ryder command, spelling his name at each rung, until he reached one cowering soul who had the power to do something. Since there was no reservation on the system, they were trying to charge us the extra-special rate you get for not reserving at least two days in advance. This final guy tapped a few keys, asked for a couple of phone numbers and addresses, and, voila! Here it is!

I laughed derisively at that point and said that he was lying, he'd just hurry-up,-QUICK'ed and entered it in the system with a discount. Just to get John off the phone.

After John hung up the phone, it rang again immediately. It was a different division of Ryder, calling to see why we hadn't picked up our truck at the Lansing location. Not East Lansing. These are two different cities.

Words of advice: if you use Ryder, don't speak to Jamal.

The second set of wedding rings showed up today. John likes this one. The man's ring is fat and heavy and it almost fits him. Mine is skinny and made for a woman with normal sized fingers. I have big, muscular pianist fingers. The ring rests right over my second knuckle. Of course, the first ring fits me fine, but it's a totally dfferent shade and the man's ring of that set is not to John's liking.

I've bonded with the neighbors. Last night I took a bag full of crayons, markers, coloring books, and assorted kid stuff over to them. It was like Christmas. The two sweeties in the back apartment (one 9 and one 6-ish) sat on the steps and colored for hours.

This morning I was washing dishes when I heard a goose honking outside. Over and over. I peered out the door, frowning, knowing that there are no geese around here in July and that, even if there was a goose here, my cat couldn't have caught it. I failed to spot the goose, so I went on about my work.

Later I was out in the carport and I heard the goose again. Inside the neighbors' house. 9-year-old came out on the step to thank me for the goose-call that I'd dropped into the bottom of the bag. John came out of my own house to "thank" me for putting the goose-call into the bag.

Well. The truck awaits. ("Truck" as in vehicle and "truck" as in big pile of shit to be moved.) John's waiting for me to finish this entry so he can disconnect the computer. The Lansing section of Journal of a Cynic has come to a close. I'll land in Georgia in a couple of days and hit the ground running.

See you....