Two Parents and A Truck

Tomorrow's the big day ya'll! I'm moving into my apartment. You've probably all been thinking about this all week. You're on pins and needles of excitement just awaiting the big day. You don't have to tell me. I know. Well, to whet your appetite for the fascinating anecdotes of riding freight elevators, opening boxes, and hanging pictures (seriously, guys, calm yourselves. I know, it's like Christmas Eve.), thought I'd share some photos of the Charlotte leg of the move. These photos are courtesy of my parents who are also now known as the world's best parents for handling everything on the Charlotte end.

So, ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the works of my mom, the photojournalist.

First up, the truck. Now, I'm not sure if it's blurry because my dad and the truck were in motion or because my mom was motion. Let's hope it was the latter for safety's sake. Or, perhaps it's blurry from the tears my mom was shedding over me moving away. No, that can't be right. My parents were really eager to help me pack up and move. Like, super eager. (just kidding)

I'm not entirely sure how all of this is going to fit in a studio apartment. The photo below actually shows about 1/4 of the stuff I currently have in a Budget truck outside. Unloading tomorrow should be interesting.

I told my parents that, since they're up here, they might as well just handle the DC side of the move too and can call me when it's over. My mom didn't think that was very funny. But, "go big or go home," amiright? (Except, please don't go home yet - I need help!)

There was one member of the family who was not very helpful. She was confused and frightened by the whole ordeal. Poor Gracie.

                                                 

 And here is evidence of a job well done. And I say "evidence" because it kind of looks like the crime scene of an episode of "Law & Order." I swear it looked way cuter and less depressing when I lived there.

Thanks to this wonderful crew (plus my mom, not pictured) for spending the morning loading up the truck. Yes, that is a "Wesley Crushers" t-shirt my dad is wearing. And, yes, it is from The Big Bang Theory. Bazinga.

Train Tunes

The only thing more important than making sure you're on the right train during your commute is to have the right tunes to listen to while on said train.

Scratch that, the MOST important part of the commute is to minimize contact with any surface. Also, always try to sit near someone who is reading the latest UsWeekly or People. (Who did wear it better? We're needed to make these important decisions, you guys. Here's a hint, 90% of the time, if the "star" in question is a "star" because her family has a reality show then, she most likely did not wear it better.)

But back to the tunes.

Here's the playlist I've been rocking on the 7 bus and the blue line train. Enjoy.

http://open.spotify.com/user/lindsaydec/playlist/0J4g4E01y3DKfotKOdzdMH

Home is Where the TV is...

You'll all be happy to know that my favorite Saturday afternoon tradition seems to translate well to my new locale. I'm pretty sure it can all be summed up with this picture.

A couch + a beer + a TV

Take Your Cam to Work Day

I now have two full days at the new job completed. So far, so good!

Today was a special day because it was Take Your Cam to Work Day. This is not yet a national holiday nor do any of my new co-workers know it exists. However, I'm 98% it's going to be a thing. The first day (er, yesterday), my desk/cubicle was very bland and begging me (as inanimate objects tend to do) for some decor and color. Unfortunately, most of my photos/frames/knick-knacks/etc. are boxed up in Charlotte. They will not be making their arrival until the end of the month. So, what's a girl to do?

Fortunately, there was one photo/frame not packed in a box. This may or may not be because I had, in a moment of genius, ordered a print of said photo from Snapfish and mailed directly to my sister's address. What is that photo you may ask? Oh, only the greatest photo of all time. It's a family portrait. And, by "family portrait," I mean, a photo of me, my sister, and Carolina Panthers' quarterback and football phenom, Cam Newton. (no offense, Mom and Dad and Pete)

In true super hero fashion, SUPERCAM was there to save the day from uninspiring decor.

A Very Successful Outing

I meant to blog yesterday but I forgot. So, this one may be a doozy. If you don't have time to read the whole thing, then just know a) I found a place to live b) I ate some good food c) I broke the bus.

My mom and I set out early yesterday morning in search of an apartment. We did a test-run of the bus/metro transportation situation I'll be utilizing from my sister's house to work for the next few weeks. We found ourselves in Cleveland Park and were off on our adventure to find an apartment for me!

Well, actually, we first found scones and scrambled eggs at Firehook Bakery. But then we were on our way!

I-95 and Kelly Clarkson Sing-a-longs

Well, today I made the move. Er, I made the "soft" move. I don't "officially" move until my furniture is here and I, more importantly, have an apartment. 'Til then, I'm crashing with my sis and bro-in-law who have graciously opened up their basement to me. I currently have every article of clothing I own down in that basement. My mom kept asking, "Did you remember to bring [insert item of clothing here]?" To which I would have to remind her, "Mom, I brought everything." 

This morning, when I was watching The Today Show, the very first sign I saw in the crowd shot read, "DC: A City In Bloom." What are the odds that on the day I move (sort of) to DC, that's what I see? (I mean, other than the fact that the cherry blossoms are blooming.) 

I interpreted that as a sign. Which wasn't hard to do since it was literally a sign. 

My Mom came with me and we decided we'd leave at 9am, just after rush hour, and arrive in Arlington around 3:30. So,naturally, at 10am, we pulled out of the driveway. I'd brought a dark chocolate chip cookie as my special "I'm driving to my new home" road trip snack. I ate it while I waited for my mom pulled out of the driveway. Patience is a virtue. And, I don't really possess that virtue. Or, maybe my Mom was just taking too long to back out of the driveway. 

My Advice...You're Welcome.

I put the "pro" in procrastination because I procrastinate like. it's. my. job. I've especially demonstrated my procrastination skills over the last two weeks while I'm supposed to be packing. (In fact, I'm supposed to be packing right now). Unfortunately, packing is super boring, but I've discovered a few secrets to battle the "box blahs." At the risk of sounding hypocritical, I thought I'd share them with you all. 

• Be Selective in Your TV Programming.

Since I live by myself in a relatively small apartment, I have the TV on. A lot. It's great background noise. It's also great when you're doing the aforementioned super boring task of packing up everything you own. But, be warned, you should not watch just any show. For example, this past weekend I thought, "Great! I'll pack while I watch all the college basketball tournaments! I'll get this all done in no time!" Um, WRONG. The TV went on, the games were exciting, and two hours later, I realize I'm still sitting in the same spot on the couch. And, magically a beer has appeared in my hand. How did THAT happen?

The "Farewell" Diet

2 Weeks of "Goodbye" Meals + 1 Coconut Cream Cake + 1 cancelled gym membership = Uh oh

I've inadvertently started a new diet. And, it's not pretty. It's called the, "I'm Moving in Three Days So I Need to Eat Up All This Random Stuff I Have" Diet. For example, the other day, I ate a peanut butter & jelly English muffin, a bag of microwave popcorn, frozen vegetables (thawed, of course), half a cup of yogurt (rationing), frozen blueberries, half a granola bar, and another peanut butter and jelly English muffin. I'm the Food Network's worst nightmare.

To Pack or Not to Pack, That is the Question

It's amazing how much stuff I have. And, I'm not really a hoarder. (I say "not really" because there is an overabundance of magazines and lint rollers scattered throughout my apartment. Ok, like, 5 lint rollers but, who wants to walk around all linty?) But, once you start packing an apartment, you realize how much stuff there really is. I am proud to say that I've trashed or donated quite a bit. Should you visit a Charlotte area Goodwill, you may become the proud owner of many t-shirts, koozies, and mugs that were once mine. You can also snag a few sundresses that I never wore but bought on sale because "they were such a good deal."

While I have no problem being decisive and parting with things I've accumulated, there are a few items that have me puzzled. What do I do with these gems?

My face.

1. The Sinus CT Scan

Yep, you heard me. I have a scan of my sinuses currently on the top shelf of my closet. My allergist made me take these 2.5 years ago and said I "should hold onto them for the future." Is it enough in the future? Can I get rid of these? Part of me wants to pack them in their own box and write on it "Pictures of Sinus Cavities" just to see the response of whoever is helping me carry boxes. Or, my plan B is to frame them with a little plaque that says, "I'm always watching over you. Love, Lindsay" and present it to a family member on a holiday. Is this one of those things that I'll get rid of and then go to a new allergist and (s)he'll be all, "What do you mean you don't have a CT scan of your sinuses? Didn't your previous doctor tell you that you should hold onto them for the future?" 

Parallel Parking and Other Such Evils

I can't parallel park. It's not that I won't or I don't know how. I can not do it. It's the pressure.

You know when you're standing at the Redbox DVD rental. You're scrolling through, trying to find that latest Nicholas Sparks Martin Scorcese. Or, maybe you're in the mood for comedy. You just don't know. Suddenly, you feel someone behind you. They may not be tapping their foot or obnoxiously sighing, but their mere presence throws you into a panic....Ok, ME, it throws ME into a panic. I have to pick a movie. I have to pick it NOW. The next thing I know, I'm sheepishly pulling Hot Tub Time Machine out of the dispenser and shrugging off to continue my shopping.

That's what parallel parking is to me. I know the mechanics. I understand what to do. But then I see cars behind me. And. I . Panic. Sometimes I'll give it a half-assed attempt, not get it, and leave to go on my merry way with a "I didn't want that parking spot anyways" attitude. I wanted to park 3 blocks further away where I could just pull into the spot. 

(At least I'm not nearly as bad as the woman in the video.)

The first step...

...is admitting you have a problem. 

Making a list, [not] checking it twice...

An ACTUAL to-do list, you guys.

I've never had a to-do list quite this long. Ever. I am a big fan of making to-do lists. The thing is, I never actually look at them once I've made them. I guess writing tasks down somehow ingrains them in my mind and I rarely, if ever, have to refer back to the list.

Or, I'm just so tired and stressed from making the list that I'm too lazy to pull it back out and double check. If something was really that important then I'd remember it, right? Now that I think about it, making to-do lists is a way I deceitfully convince myself that I'm organized.

Alas, I digress.

If there ever was a time for me to effectively make use of a to-do list, that time would be now. Actually, it would be about 5 minutes ago because I'm already way behind.

And So We Begin...

Welcome to my blog, NC Meets DC.

If you read my previous blog, How I Met Your Blogger, then, I'm sorry. That was a train wreck. It didn't even have a permanent name. That name was supposed to be a placeholder because I was watching How I Met Your Mother while I did it.

Well, today is a new day. A new blog with a permanent name. So, basically, what I'm saying is, it's on. 

If you're currently reading this post, then you are most likely related to me. (Hi Mom.) But, I hope, at some point, we can branch out to include some new friends as well. And, if you are my mom, then I apologize in advance if I use any inappropriate language.

I'm asking you, the readers of this blog, to join me in my adventure as I move from North Carolina, where I've spent about 26 years and 7 months* of my life (I studied abroad for 4 months in college and I'm counting that as living somewhere else to make myself sound more "worldly"). Now, I'm embarking on a new job and a new city - our nation's capital, Washington, DC. (And its fine suburban surroundings). 

Ok, so NC to DC isn't that much of a stretch out of my comfort zone. It's not like I'm moving somewhere totally different like the moon, or New Jersey. (Is it cliché to refer to New Jersey? I think probably yes. Let's give them a break. Let's scratch that and say, "Canada" instead. Eh?) But, I promise you semi-entertaining anecdotes along the way. From moving adventures, like, the way my Mom constantly calls "U-Haul" "U-Haul-It" to the everyday experiences of getting lost in a new city. You can witness me try to cram furniture from a 950 sq ft apt into a 300 sq ft studio (that may be when the inappropriate language kicks in) and hear me vent frustrations when people use the term barbecue incorrectly. (My sister, a current resident of my new city, has already forewarned me of this. You GUYS, a BBQ involves a pig. A COOK-OUT means you're grilling hot dogs and hamburgers. What is wrong with you people?)

If you read, then I promise to try to make it interesting. Unless its not, in which case, this blog may be fated to join How I Met Your Blogger in my blogspot graveyard. But, I say we give this bad boy a fighting chance, shall we? 

Til next time, 

LdC

*I got really confused trying to calculate that. So, it's probably not right.


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