We've unpacked not a single box.
It's been 4 days since we moved into our townhome. NOT but even one box touched.
Looking on the bright side, though...I have cleaned out my car.
The phrase "it's been a rollercoaster" seems to be fitting here. However, it's the biggest, mother f'n rollercoaster I've ever seen. One that I would NEVER get in line for [I know that isn't saying much -- I am a wimp]. Unfortunately, for the most part, I didn't really have a choice to get on this ride.
Moving is always rough.
I've done it 13 times in my life. And, I think the foreclosure move, getting kicked out of my Mom's, and the cross country move from UT to MA (twice) should count as multiple...those were irregular, insane moves.
But, I've learned, moving is even MUCH more rough when it's also in conjunction with a brother arriving home from a mission and getting your car stolen.
Back up! What?!?!?!
I laid in bed last night and thought the same thing. What in the world just happened to me? I am utterly exhausted. Not from physically working hard [I haven't worked out in a week], but emotionally I've been through the ringer. My state of mind the past few days has been on the verge of laughing and crying at all times. It's played a toll on me. I am not well.
If you want the story. You are at the right place. This is one I couldn't bypass writing down. It's going to be a lengthy post. Keep yourself seated at all times with your hands and feet inside the roller coaster. This is going to be one bumpy ride.
KC and I walked through a Condo a friend had just purchased for an absurdly great price. It started a curiousity in us. We started investigating what it would take to get into our own place (...and out of what Derek and Hilary called 'a temporary storage unit' as our apartment was closing in on us. Our living room was an office, dining, living, tv, laundry, and bike storage room).
We looked at probably 200 homes and walked through 20. On our radar was a short sale town home in South Salt Lake. As we continue to go through homes, we continued to revert back to the townhome that we hadn't even walked through. Knowing even very little about the home, we still compared everything to it. And finally decided it was too good of a deal to pass up. We contacted the seller for a showing. For one reason or another he kept pushing us off. Until 3 days before the home was going to a trustee sale, he finally gave in an let us view the home. It was ugly: shag carpets, mirrors on the ceiling, and missing cabinet doors. Still for the price, we were willing to get past the asthetic flaws and see the true potential of the home. It's all about location, location, location. So we put in an offer.
The home went to the trustee sale before our offer could get accepted. Fanny Mae took over the home and our concern grew. How long would it be off the market? It was now a foreclosure. Would it be harder to obtain? We started to look again at other homes.
During our search, the bank started work on the townhome to bring it to market standards. They repainted, recarpeted, installed the cabinet doors, etc, etc. We often peaked in the windows to see what was going on (house stalkers!). And after a few weeks, the house was put back on the market. We placed an offer within a few hours of it being listed.
We applied for the loan, the price was raised by the bank (from the original seller's price), but it was still within our reach. In fact, due to the foreclosure, we applied for a homepath loan that doesn't require mortgage insurance. The price of the home raised, but our monthly mortgage payment lowered. Good news.
Once the papers were in, we waited.
We waited some more.
Our closing date was set for September 17th. However, because of the foreclosure it was possible this could be pushed back.
But on Friday, September 7th we got a call that our loan was approved and that we could close on the 10th.
We signed all the papers and received our keys by the 13th. (There was some delay from a lein on the house from the HOA. The bank and the HOA battled it out for a couple days and finally settled. Not our problem. But, it made us have to wait a bit longer. We were used to waiting at this point.)
Wednesday, September 12th
I skipped my workout and started loading our belongings into boxes. My first priority was the kitchen, since it is always the hardest to pack. As I wrapped and stored the items, I also cleaned. I was hoping to close that room down for good by the end of the night. My goal was accomplished and I once again crashed into the pillow that night.
Thursday, September 13th
Prior to a Pre-Dano arrival party, I spent a couple hours at the apartment packing up. During which, I stopped to make some dinner. A pot on the stove containing water to boil, I continued with my other work. After ten minutes I remembered to check on dinner. I returned to the pot and grimaced as I saw completely still water. I immediately thought I had forgot to turn on the burner, but when I reached for the knob it was set to 'high'. Hum. Checking the burner for heat and finding it cold, I lifted the burner and pulled out the drip pan. The problem laid in front of me. During the process of cleaning the stove the night before, I must have broken the aged wire, because there it was frayed and disconnected.
Being the genius I am, I took the wire, with burner in hand, and stuck the exposed strands back into the burner.
Everything went dead. Power gone.
I assumed that I had killed the breaker. I turned it off and back on. But to no avail, the electricity was out -- in every room.
I didn't realize until I called it quits and met up at my brothers how bad my actions were. I guess I could have died. And I've received a many a lecture on not touching exposed wires. My bad. Haven't I told you I learn the hard way?
After a winning game of Ticket to Ride. We left the party at 11pm.
With balloons, posters, and gifts in tow, we drove out to the airport to welcome home my younger brother, Dano. He had been on an LDS mission for the past 2 years (in El Salvador).
|Our fabricated Spanish sentence for Dano.|
|This is what Ozzie wanted on his poster.|
|And what Scratch wanted on his..|
My large and energetic family crowded around the bottom of the escalator where he would arrive. When people from his plane started to appear, we started to chant loudly, "DANO! DANO! DANO! DANO!" My brother said that he could hear it down the hallway. The fellow missionaries questioned, "What is that? Are they saying Dano?" And Daniel smiled and said, "It's for me!"
As he travelled down the escalator with a big smile, we screamed and jumped [My voice is still recovering]. The moment he stepped off the stairs, we attacked him with a group hug and then tried to crowd surf him. However, I am sad to report, with him being 6'5"...it was an unsuccessful crowd surf. We got him probably 3 feet off the ground.
|Dano's arrival as we chanted "Dano, Dano, Dano!"|
|Trying to crowd surf Dano.|
I mentioned before that my siblings are incredible. Next to KC, they are the most important people in my life. Dano is the one I know the least. But, having him back these past few days has seriously been rad. He's so much cooler than when he left. [Sorry, Dano, but it's true]. Plus, it's humbling hearing him talk about his experiences. I have so much to be thankful for. We are so blessed to live in America.
We parted from the group around 1am. We returned to power, thanks to the apartment maintenance team. I passed out that night.
Friday, September 14th
I took off work. We met up as a family for breakfast. Afterwards, Dano handed out gifts and we played an El Salvadorian game.
|Shirt Dano brought Joff.|
El Salvador slang.
|Purse Dano brought me.|
Exhausted from loading boxes and cleaning, I again passed out.
Saturday, September 15th
Our A-M-A-Z-I-N-G friends and family showed up to help us move. We had so much help. I was overwhelmed with how many people cared enough to spend their Saturday morning helping us. A HUMUNGO thank you to them. We had the apartment unloaded and our townhome loaded within 2 hours.
After everyone left, we were kept busy by new neighbors stopping by, new appliances getting delivered, cleaning out the remaining lose items out of our cars [I gutted mine of all items] and then finally getting some food and a shower.
By 5pm KC was out the door to go watch the Utah vs. BYU game at his parents and I was on my way to meet my family at the State Fair.
I arrived at the fair to find all parking lots full and masses of people. Never again will I go the closing weekend. I drove North of the fairgrounds into Rose Park and found a parking spot in one of the adjacent neighborhoods.
We ate our Moochie's cheesesteaks, rode the big yellow slide, and looked at the butter cow. Hanging with my family at the fair is always a good time. Even if we didn't get to see the smallest lady in the world this time.
As we left the venue, the sun had nearly disappeared and with it being a sketchy area, Krick insisted that I go with her and Randy to their car and they'd drive me to my car (since I had arrived alone). As we walked to their car, we passed the street that my vehicle was parked on. I could have turned and walked 50 feet down that street to my car. But my protective family, still pushed me to ride with them. I thought it was kind of silly. [My car was right there!] However, I eased their worries and proceeded forward to their car.
As they attempted to drop me off at my vehicle, there was nothing to be dropped of at. The parking spot was empty, my white Honda nowhere in sight. Gone. We rambled off the possibilities, drove down the surrounding neighborhoods in case I had actually parked elsewhere. Part of me wanted to believe that my car wasn't white, but it was in fact blue as my four year old niece questioned "Are you sure it's white? I think it's blue."
But, finally, after calling the police for tow records, I agreed with my four year old nephew as he laughed out hysterically in the back seat, "Your car was stolen!"
My car had been stolen.
[It was at this time, I was so happy I had moved. It had prompted me to clean out my car as I moved items inside. I had nothing of value inside it.]
Back in the days of my parents divorce Krick had believed that my previous car had been stolen. When in fact, my mom had taken it to work since her car had been repossessed. It was one of our funniest moments. It's a long story. I wish I could fit it in here. But, as we experienced my car ACTUALLY being stolen we couldn't help but laugh. I've only owned old cars. Why would anyone steal them?
As we laughed, I waited on the phone to speak to a sheriff. The adults in the car were making the best of the moment by 'liking' my Facebook status announcing the theft. The kids in the car panicked that we were calling the cops to come get them. They eventually calmed each other down, "I think the police are coming to help us, not hurt us." [Becky, maybe the police fit Victoria's description when 'Hurry, they are coming to get us' is said. Seriously, you are the rockingest best Mom! You crack me up!]
Finally, after a report was filed, my sister, her husband, my cousin, their kids, and I drove back to Krick's house to watch the reminder of the Ute vs. BYU game.
I passed out on her floor. (But woke up for the last 5 minutes of the game. "False start for fans on the field." Oh people are stupid. But, a win is a win!)
KC picked me up and I crashed hard for the first night in our home.
Sunday, September 16th
I woke up car less and headed over to the church for my brother's homecoming talk. Afterwards, there was a party at my mom's where we ate papusas, chatted with old friends, and I relayed the previous day's events over and over.
We skipped out on the party briefly to drive around Rose Park looking for an abandoned version of my car. No luck.
We returned to the party after picking up Hilary and Derek, who had been in Hawaii, from the airport. And we spent the rest of the day with my family: had a dance party, ate pumpkin chocolate chip bread, and looked for cars with Dano (who is now in the market for one, as was I). All 7 siblings together for the first time in 2 years.
Monday, September 17th
It was a disaster of a morning. KC had to drive me to work, I threw clothes all around as I tried to find something in our pile of moved clothes, and we realized all KC's suits were still over at the apartment. I hate Mondays. This one was bad.
KC was for sure the car was gone for good. I filed my claim and setup a rental car, but was still hopeful. I was also prepared. The sheriff had warned me that if the car was found I would have 30 minutes to respond or the car would be impounded and I would have to pay the $300 fee to get it back. I spent all day with my phone by my side. If the cops called, I'd be ready to drop everything and get my car.
The day passed with no news. And at 4 o'clock, my co-worker and friend, Cortni, drove me home from work. As I gave her a tour of our house, my phone rang. It was KC. I decided to not be rude, but ignore it and finish showing Cortni around. After she left, KC called me again and said they had found my car. I frantically called Cornti back to see if she could turn around and take me, but remembering she had an appointment to be at. I called Hilz and made arrangements with her.
Within 30 minutes we arrived back in Rose Park to see my car, in one piece, left in the middle of a neighborhood road. It was drivable. It wasn't stripped. The only damage was my car stereo gone (ripped from the dash and stolen), a car emergency kit robbed, and papers from my glove box/coins from my change drawer strewn about the car. But, my Honda was back. Such a relief.
The cop explained someone had called it in. It was easy to see why as it was on the corner of two streets and about 3 feet from the curb.
Hilz made us check for a dead body in the trunk. And Derek was smart to check under the hood for missing parts. But, all was well and we drove my baby back to spend it's first night in our garage.
I gave it some tender loving care and cleaned up the mess that was left inside.
When KC arrived home, we ran over to our old apartment to clean before the power would be shut off today.
We climbed into bed hungry, grimy, and exhausted.
Tuesday, September 18th (TODAY)
I have so much gratitude today and I feel an enormous amount of love. I have so many people over the past few days that have been there for me. I always say I am so independent, but when reality hits I really do need the people in my life. Thank you for being there. I could have come out of this with a negative attitude on humanity [which, part of me has]. However, I have such good people in my life, I have to believe that I have more good people that bad. And despite those who try to make it not so, life is good.
Now, time for that first box...