The Move, a Bike Ride, a Sprained Ankle, Thai Food and Margaritas

Right as I’m walking up Marshfield towards Justin’s apartment, I see Alex heading the opposite way. Talk about synchronicity. We knock, but there’s no answer. So, like the two good Indiana boys that we are… we naturally take to a bit of curb squatting and chat. Within a few minutes, Justin shows up from a late lunch and squats with us a while. The entire time, I’m smiling like an idiot because I’m sitting next to my friends, the sun is out and the day is good. After a few more minutes of sitting, we head inside and turn to the bitter business of transporting furniture.

Once inside, we realize there’s not all that much for us to do. We pick up the truck at 3 PM, so there’s a bit of waiting around to be had. Justin, ever cautious, tries to call U-Haul and checks on his reservation.

I didn’t realize how much I liked this picture until I opened it up in Photoshop. This is Justin, on hold with the bastages at U-Haul. Only at home, hours later, did I see the wonderful photograph (by Stu) in the background. So Justin calls – and they tell him that, if the truck arrives on time, he’ll have it at 3.

We kill some time by cleaning out his back room, taking a few knickknacks and whatnot out to the dumpster. We find an old jumprope, and Alex, Justin and I have a few turns on it. We’re all in an enclosed space and it’s probably not the smartest thing to do – as Alex ends up twisting his ankle some. Three rolls around, and Justin and I head out.

At the U-Haul, they tell us that "our truck" has not arrived yet, and that we’ll have to wait. So… we chat about work a bit, hang out. The next thing you know, it’s closing on 4 PM and we’re still truckless. At this point, Justin and I are getting frustrated and impatient. I end up recalling a thread on WH about U-Haul, as well as my friend Heather’s hellacious experience. Finally, around 4 (after almost an hour of waiting), they give us a truck. Justin had ordered a 17 footer, but they give us a dinky ass 10 footer. Justin decides the hell with it, and takes it – better started than never.

So… back at Justin’s. When we arrive, Stu, Rob and Gretchen have arrived, and are hanging out with Alex. We pack the truck up, and head out. Before we leave (Stu is riding his motorcycle, Rob and Gretchen go in his minivan, and Alex and Justin go in the U-Haul), Justin asks me to ride his bike over. Now… I haven’t ridden a bike in years. Years. But I get on, wobble a bit, and make it over to his new apartment no problem. The seat is a bit high for me, but I make do. No pics, unfortunately, but I’m sure I was pretty funny looking, trying to stop at stoplights and half-jump half-stagger off the bike to stop. :)

So… one load down, we return to Justin’s old apartment. At this point, Alex’s ankle is causing him a great deal of pain. He ends up going back to Stu’s place, where he orders Thai food for dinner. Since he can’t really walk – he holds down the fort and waits for everyone to arrive.

That’d be Rob (left) and Stu. When all’s moved in and dumped into the apartment, we all sit on the porch a bit and gather ourselves. We then head over to Stu’s place, which is a bit cleaner and actually has places for us to sit. :)

Justin – looking dapper right outside his apartment.

When we arrive at Stu’s, Justin and I head out for a beer run.

Alex is laid up with his gimp foot.

When we get back, a bag of ice, two bottles of Oat Stout, a pint of tequila, a case of St. Pauli’s Girl and a bottle of Gatorade later… the food is ready. I scarf down food like it’s my friggin’ job, and enter into that hazy nap zone for a brief while. The talk turns to music, and I spend most of my time listening.

Surprisingly, I don’t own many CD’s. A handful actually. And my knowledge of music is woefully inadequate. Alex, Stu, Justin and Rob are all discussing who the greatest artists of the 20th Century are, and are throwing out names: Arlo Guthrie, Ira Gershwin, Dylan… I realize that most people’s CD collection dwarfs mine, hands down. I think I may actually own something like 10, maybe 15 CD’s all told.

Back in school, I would listen to the same CD’s over and over and over again, when I was writing. I had this routine where I would wake up, shower, put on coffee, do pushups, do situps, sit down, throw in a Shudder to Think CD, and write. Did this every day for I don’t know how long. So I wonder if it’s repetition, habit, some compulsive obsessive thing in me? Or if it’s simply the fact that I never latched onto music like almost everyone else in the world did.

Deep down, I feel that everyone, all of us, input the exact same amount into our brains. Some know more math, some know more biology, some know more stories, some know more family history. We all take in the same amount of information and store the exact same amount of data – the only variance is our focus, what we choose to remember and know. Well… most people I know have devoted a good amount of brain space to music. So, when I realize I have this big vacant nothingness in terms of music… I ask myself: What information is taking the place of that? Where else have I been focusing my energies and attention?

I’m still trying to figure that puzzle out.

After a bit, I say my good-byes. I’m pretty tired, and ready for sleep. I walk out, do the waves, and head to my car.

Along the way, I come across this apartment on Augusta:

When I arrive home, I realize my next door neighbors are throwing one hell of a party. They have a live band in the backyard (and it’s a gorgeous house, with an amazing backyard btw)… and it’s loud as hell. I mean, in my bedroom, it sounds like the guitarist is right outside the window, standing on my balcony. It wouldn’t be so bad if the music was good, but this shit is loud and crappy.

But – sometime around 11PM, it got really quiet. At first, I was fairly pissed off at the prospect of having to deal with the noise and possibly sleeping on the couch, away from the din. But they seem to be incredibly considerate, and the noise stopped immediately at 11. :) Let’s hear it for nice neighbors!