But, guess what? Moving to Pittsburgh has shown me that, due to most people here being frozen solid from the SNOW and the redneck half-drunk mentality of most sports fans who live here, everything moves even SLOWER in THIS city than it did in DC.
We looked at this house back in the beginning of January. It is now the end of February and we just signed the lease for it, and we STILL don't have the bloody house keys yet. GRRR. How can I and all my cans of "oops paint" get in there to decorate BEFORE we move, if we don't even have the @#$%! house keys yet?! I'm about ready to go bust a window just to get in, dammit to hell and back.
And what's up with Pete's boss, takin' his sweet damned time in deciding about San Francisco? I mean COME ON, we're putting our life on HOLD over here, we can't buy Pirates baseball tickets, we can't plan on visiting people or going anywhere this summer, and frankly I think it's annoying as FUGG that the guy even mentioned this stupid idea before getting his shit together and having the details ironed out. It's like walking around on pins and needles, not knowing. Pete seems to think that they are probably projecting out through the summer months, so we'll have time to get settled at the new house first. He thinks maybe we'll be going to SF sometime in June, July, August, but of course we just don't KNOW yet. He does know that there has already been other people in his office who have gone out there with a partner, so that precedent has already been set. So, he thinks the odds are, we'll both be going.
As I was driving to pick Pete up from work yesterday so that we could go to the gym nearby, I was grumbling about this whole San Francisco thing, when suddenly on the radio, the song "California Dreamin'" came on, and I had to laugh. Dang cosmos, tellin' me to chill. I immediately hit the cell phone and had Pete listen too. hehehe Love that song.
Pete wants to sell his car, park mine in the garage, and buy a larger vehicle, possibly even (I cringe) a MINIVAN, to drive cross country to San Francisco if and when they decide to send us. Now, here's a little-known fact about me: I vowed in my early 20's that all minivans were a pestilence to society, and I would never own one in my lifetime. I loathe them with a red hot fiery passion unbridled, simply because they are bohemoth's that you cannot SEE around, none of them seem to have a gas pedal OR turn signals, and if they DO have a speedometer, it doesn't go past 35 miles an hour. Not to mention all the little screaming brat children that are in them. (Obligatory GET OFF MY LAWN comment inserted here).
But, Pete seems to think that it would be great to have one, to put all our stuff in it and bring the dog along on such a long ride...it takes about 3-4 days to drive there from here, which does NOT appeal to me in the least, I'd much rather take a plane and down some Dramamine and some booze, and sleep the whole way. But he thinks it'll be a fun adventure, and I am just wondering if he'll think the same thing when he's all bloody and bruised when we arrive there, from my response to his road rage driving style.
Oh, and funny thing, we just had our current landlord standing in my current abode the other day with a new tenant (I'll be nice and call her SNAGGLETOOTH but really it was worse than that, a very hard person to look at, to say the least), but he never once bothered to mention to any of us that a couple guys would be showing up today with FOR SALE SIGNS that were plunked down in our yard and the house next door....interesting. So apparently we're getting out of here just in time, he's decided to sell the place. Nice, huh? Thanks for letting us know, ya schmuck.
I'll be glad to be as far away from that retarded bonehead as possible in 2.5 weeks. He acts like he and Pete are siamese twin brothers, and I'm just YOKO ONO or something, "Yeah, Pete and I, we have an understanding, we have both been through a lot," he says, inferring that "we are superior male beings in all things and no WOMAN will come between us," ---and he says this in a very condescending tone of voice, like I'm a child, "so we'll work out the details, it's nothing YOU need to worry about." Chauvinist PIG. I wanted to claw his pompous ass eyeballs out of his head.
In January, we got a notice that the house was going up for AUCTION, and that we would have 30 days to vacate. Needless to say, I threw a massive spazz and very nearly strangled the guy.
He is apparently not very good with handling the rent money we give him, he doesn't seem to pay the mortgage very often, and so the powers that be decide to take the house away and put it up for foreclosure auction from time to time. If that's not enough to make a person a nervous wreck by just simply trying to live here, with all this rigamarole going on, I don't know what is.
He even gave me crap about having a dog here too, the first time we met. I was putting up a piece of press board on the bottom half of the half-ass-built deck in the backyard, planning to add a gate too, so that my dog would stay in the perimeter of the yard, and he said, "I would like to request that you ask ME first if you decide to alter MY property in any way, shape or form, in future." I said, "Well, that's funny, I was there when Pete told you about the dog and that we'd need a FENCE in the backyard BEFORE we moved in." He claimed Pete never told him that. I said with a condescending smile of my own, "If you own a hammer, you can easily remove the few nails that I've put in, and I CAN SHOW YOU HOW TO take this right off, before we move out." hehehehe My attitude is, "You'll get what you give," so if he gives ME crap, I'll give him some right back.
Anyway, we have been busy bringing all my storage tubs down from the attic, with photo albums, diaries, scrapbooks in them, and odds and ends...and holiday decorations, home decor stuff that I'm not using, and junk I should get rid of in a yard sale. We've got them stacked up to the ceiling in Pete's bedroom corner, and some more down in the foyer stacked up high. We're going to pack up as much stuff now as we can possibly do, because next weekend is the home show that we want to go and spend time looking around at, and the following weekend we MIGHT go to Rochester NY to Pete's daughter-in-law's baby shower. She just found out that the baby has some cysts on either his intestines or his genitals, they're not sure, so he may not be able to go home right away until those are taken care of. He's also breach right now. So it could prove to be a difficult delivery for her this time around. She has a 3 year old boy named CJ already, so Pete is a grandpa....but I refuse to be a grandma....just call me AUNT BECKY thankyouverymuch.
And then finally, it'll be the weekend to move out of this ghetto land hellhole and into our nice new house that we love. After that, the sun will come out, the snow will melt, and spring will be here. I'll be able to paint, and put up wallpaper, and rearrange furniture and get the place looking snazzy...at least I hope I will...before we get sent to the other end of the world in CA. I told Pete the minute I feel any tiny bit of an earthquake while we're there, I'm moving to Canada, or swimmin' to Hawaii.
Talk to you all soon......Love, Becky
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