What I Packed

We've been here for almost a month, and I haven't gotten tired of it! Let me tell you more about it.

On our first weekend, after unpacking, we went shopping for the essentials, which were towels, a bed, sheets, and Christmas tree.  This was the first year we had room for a real tree, and since we had little to no furniture, we got a big one.  Just compare the sizes!  (Last year's Harlem tree is on top)

Christmas Tree 2011

Christmas Tree 2012

Fortunately, some of the few items that made the final cut during our move was our Christmas tree decorations.  Among other "treasures" I decided to pack was a clipboard (which has already come in handy!), art supplies (paints, brushes, ribbons, stickers), a triangle ruler, 4 boxes of Starbucks instant coffee packets, Lizano sauce from Costa Rica, oil and vinegar from Napa Valley, and a lifetime supply of tampons.  I shipped at least 3 boxes of tampons across the country.  I guess by the end of my packing, I just started throwing things in.  Looking at the tampons, I figured I'd use them sometime, so why throw them out?  But were they worth shipping?  Was the triangle ruler worth shipping?  Is the triangle ruler worth having?  I don't really think so.  Kitchen supplies probably would have been more useful.

Unpacking

December 1 was the big move into our new apartment.  Our cousins, Nate and Jaimie, moved from Portland to Seattle the month before with a U-haul full of belongings and Ken, who was currently unemployed, helped them move in.  Ken helped Nate carry a couch up 5 flights of stairs, so despite my insistence that we really didn't have enough stuff to warrant help, Nate and Jaimie felt indebted and promised to help us move in.

That Saturday morning, Ken and I packed our clothes into some suitcases and piled the boxes that my mom recently shipped to me in Susan's living room, ready to go into the car when Nate and Jaimie arrived.  Under the direction of Max, we formed an assembly line and had everything in the car (2 suitcases and a chair had to wait for another ride) in less than 20 minutes.  We drove 2 minutes to the new apartment, and unpacked in another 20 minutes.  It was a really fast move in and even though we didn't need the help, it was awesome to have it.

Women's Weekend

Somehow, I never posted this.  Women's Weekend took place in early October......

For the past 20 years, the women of my mom’s side of the family have celebrated each other on one very special weekend every autumn, “Women’s Weekend.”

Women’s Weekend, held in Ocean Park, Washington, is two to three Girls Only! days of food, wine, book discussion, goal setting, and familial bonding.  I had a work conflict this year and couldn’t attend, but shortly before the big weekend, found out that I didn’t have to be at the conflicting concert and could go after all!  I drove down, surprised my mother (who I hadn’t seen in 2 months, the longest I stretch in over four years), and settled in for some good old-fashioned family time.

Saturday night was book group night.  A dozen or more women sit around in a circle to discuss and lend recently enjoyed novels, memoirs, and biographies.  My book tastes don't really fit in, and I also read plenty of books that I wouldn’t necessarily recommend (namely “Pretty Little Liars” and all the poorly written History of Weddings and Marriage books I’ve been wasting my time with), so it took me until right before my turn to decide on a book to share.  

I toyed with talking about “The Citizen’s Constitution: An Annotated Guide", but settled on “The Trapp Family Singers,” the autobiography of Maria von Trapp and basis for The Sound of Music.  Considering how very loving, emotional, and womanly this group is, I was very surprised that no one wanted to hear my many anecdotes about how the book compares to the movie-musical.  (Maria was really asked to leave the convent because she sang, skipped and ran too much! The kids really drove away many governesses!  Maria really wore an ugly, ill-fitting dress to the von Trapp estate because she had given away all of her own clothes!  The Captain really had whistle calls for his children!  Marie really sewed rompers for the kids! (Though not out of curtains)  The Baroness really confronted Maria about the captain being in love with her and Maria ran back to the abbey!)  Who doesn’t want to hear this stuff?!?

Well, I didn’t want to hear about their books, either.  All that my aunts, grandmother, and mom seem to read is books about helping people in other countries (Africa is big lately) while finding oneself, or heartbreaking books (topics include war, abuse, mental illness, poverty) that are described in lengthy detail, always with, “It was so heartbreaking, (select one) I would have to put it down periodically/I couldn’t read anything else for weeks/I cried, but you definitely need to read it.”   No thank you.

Following book club, we did “Goals”.  Goals is the portion of the evening when we open last year’s (or whenever you were last there) goals, read them, reflect, write this year’s goals, put the paper in an envelope with your name on it, and put it in a bag.  Then aunt Louise puts the bag in a safe and brings it out the following Women's Weekend.

You don’t read your goals aloud, but Kelsey, mom and I shared our goals with each other.  I had totally kicked my goals' ass, which were written in 2007, during or right before my senior year in college.

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Ashley's Goals 2007:

1. Get into grad school or get a job.  

Double check! I’ve done both of these since 2007!

2. Be more like Caitlin (this is not serious) 

Clearly, Caitlin was reading these as I wrote them.

3. Have a functional relationship or at least convince myself that I am capable of having one. 

Um, have you seen my ring? CHECK.

4. Be nicer to Caitlin (Just kidding, I am perfect)

After the thrill of having seriously rocked my stated goals of five years ago had abated, I was a little intimidated to write any new ones.  I had just achieved another pretty big set (get engaged, quit my job, move to the west coast, select a wedding venue, get a new job, get Ken to the west coast) in a relatively short period of time (two months and twelve days), and just want to relish in the improved quality of my life rather than rush into new goals.  Further, after having so successfully dominated 2007’s goals, I didn’t want to set myself up for disappointment next year.  I decided to make it easy:

Ashley’s Goals 2012

1. Get Married

Having not achieved her goals, mom followed suit with an easy win:

See my daughter get married.

Day 3, The Conclusion

The last place of the day was one Ken had just found that afternoon.  We met Karen (who we later found out was Kristen, Ken had the name wrong), the normal, non-sweaty, non-serial killer manager, who showed us to the unit.  It was on the second floor of an old-timey, possible prewar apartment.  I don’t know enough about architecture to know what that looks like.  The walls were conveniently already white, not beige, and the floors were nicely un-carpeted, i.e., hard wood.  Unlike the insane asylum, these floors were not warped and nary a ghost met us on the way up the stairs.  The bathroom fixtures were new, the room was sunny, and there was a random closet in the “living space” with French doors.  Did I mention the small office space?  It is its own separate room.  It’s not a “home office” at the end of long corridor that leads to a window and fire escape like in out Harlem digs.  It is actually an office.  Or it could event be a timeout room if we took the light out and added spikes to the wall.

I barely looked at the place.  I had already decided that we were moving in as soon as possible. 

Ken was fine with it, we turned in our deposit and were on our way! 

That evening when family asked about the place we selected, I couldn’t describe it at all.  It was the only place I didn’t take photos of—why bother? I didn’t have to think about it later—so I had zero concept of the size (I recalled that it was small, but now that I am in it with no furniture aside from an arm chair and Christmas tree, it seems a lot bigger) and didn’t even know whether or not it had a closet in the bedroom (it doesn’t, but there are closets and shelves just about everywhere else).

Also, it was the least expensive place we looked at, a short 7 blocks from Susan’s and 4 blocks from my gym and bus stop, and utilities were included!  It was the best of all seven apartments we viewed, and while I wouldn’t say “This is PERFECT!”, it’s pretty close and only took 3 days to find.

Day 3, Continued

We stopped by the Hawthorne next.  This was in the neighborhood of the single 30-year-old apartment and had a lot of similarities.  It was modern and carpeted.  To me, that made them practically the same place.

The manager was a small, squirrely gay man with a sweaty handshake.  I was immediately turned off.  I almost left right then—“forget it, sweaty man!”—but Ken wanted to go on the tour.

The hallway smelled sweetly musty, like cheesy mildew.  Strike two.  The apartment was small (again, my perception of space is unreliable), had a window that faced the interior courtyard looking out onto the cement walls of the units on the other side, and the bedroom wasn’t completely closed off from the living room.  Meaning there wasn’t a door at all.  The couple currently living there used a curtain to separate what cannot be legally listed as two rooms.  On the plus side, the kitchen was big and open, and Ken loved that.

After the tour, Mr. Sweats took us to his manager’s office to share his philosophy and more details about the building. He described himself as a “fun, laid back guy, who gets the job done.”  He throws monthly “parties,” funded by the owners, using the popcorn maker that was on a shelf behind us.  “It’s important for the residents to get to know one another.  And if the Seahawks win a game,” he told us, he pays for beer out of his own pocket.

“I’m told that you can’t be nice and be a good manager, but I think that’s the only way to be a manager.  I don’t want to be the ‘bad-guy’.”  He wants to be the guy who throws lobby popcorn parties!

I was appalled by everything going on, and had no idea why Ken was asking so many questions.  We were in there for almost half and hour before excusing ourselves for our next appointment.

When we finally left, walking past the obese woman sitting in the lobby whose outfit matched the couch color exactly making it difficult to determine where clothed flesh ended and furniture began, Ken turned to me and said, “I loved it.”

What?  I was about to turn to him and say the same thing, only I would have been saying it in the way I say, “I love dolphins, do you want to see Dolphin Tale?” after seeing the preview in the movie theatre.  That is, I would have been joking.

“The manager seemed really cool.”

“But he had sweaty hands!”

”Oh, I didn’t notice.”

“That was the first thing I noticed!” 

Before diving into my list of grievances against The Hawthorne, I asked Ken to tell me what he liked about it so that I wouldn’t bias him.  He liked the manager, it was inexpensive, it had parking, the kitchen was big, and honestly, he thought that I would have really liked it since I wanted a modern, convenient apartment. 

“Well, let’s just hope the next one is the perfect combination of charming and not falling apart.”

Apartment Search, Day 3

By day three, Ken was very ready to make a decision.  We had three apartments to look at, and while I was really enjoying looking at numerous places, Ken was more impatient than I had ever seen him.  The first building that day, the Ben Lamond, was a bit further out of the way (from Susan’s, my bus, and my gym), but it had a view of the space needle and was relatively inexpensive. 

This was our first experience looking at apartments during the day and I knew that it would influence my decisions heavily.  I would be able to see whether or not the apartment was sunny, and sun is my number one priority after being within budget.

We walked to what seemed like the edge of the universe, or the edge of Capitol Hill along I-5, and down a dead end.  I wondered where Ken (who was doing all the apartment research) was taking me.

“Is that it?  It looks like an abandoned insane asylum.”  It did.  Ken preferred describing it as “an old school”, which it looked like as well, but it was pretty clear to me that psychiatric patients were experimented on within these walls.  There were dead leaves all over, and the manager, who appeared to be transgender (FàM) but could have just been a lesbian, wasn’t nearly as enthusiastic (or apparently hard working) as the guy from the Bates Motel. 

The interior had wide, musty, carpeted hallways; creaky stairways; and huge wooden banisters.  It really did look like an old school inside.  Perhaps it spent a decade or two as a dormitory after the state hospital was shut down.  All I could think was, “I hope I don’t like this apartment, because no one takes care of this building.”

Sam (or Max, or Andy—some name that could be an abbreviation for a girls name) opened the door to the unit.  It was really big, fairly bright, and, as I mentioned, had a view of the space needle.  The living room area had a big bay window, the wood floors were old and warped in a charming way, the kitchen was enormous (these size terms are all relative, and very screwed by my spatial perception), and there was a quirky, built-in backless shelf hanging out between the kitchen and living room.  Though falling apart, it was adorable.  One negative was that it was on the ground floor and the bedroom window faced a back entrance to the building, which could be scary at night.  And of course, there would be ghosts since victims of state-enforced hospitalizations in the 1950’s haunt the building.

I hoped dearly that we would find another place that day that was more awesome because I was learning strongly toward the Ben Lamond, and I knew it would be nothing but problems.

Apartment Search, Day 2

The second apartment we saw was pretty nice.  It was in a modern building and had a decent-seeming apartment manager.  He lived on the premises and appeared to care about the building.  That is very different from our Harlem experience, where no one gave a shit about the building and we had to call the management office for a month before someone fixed the roof and water stopped pouring through the ceiling any time it rained heavily.

The location was pretty good as well—close to Susan’s and close to some restaurants.  It was on the sixth floor (sort of a view!) and had a small balcony.  I imagined a grill and barbecue party.  The kitchen was pretty big and the apartment had its own washer and dryer in the bathroom.  It was definitely a possibility, but it had carpeting and grey/beige walls and was not “our style.”  I could imagine a single woman in her 30’s living there easily, but not Ken.  And not me, either, since I’m totes not single.  Or thirty.

We headed over to another apartment after the single-lady pad.  It was in a building that looked like a motel from decades past.   I think it was called the Red Roof, but even if it wasn’t, we referred to it as the Red Roof Inn.  The manager was extremely enthusiastic and told us about all the projects he was working on.  He pointed out the modern wall art he selected and contemplated aloud whether or not he should switch out a neighboring wall hanging with a new, modern piece as well.  I thought he was nice and his caring for the building was impressive.  Later, after some reflection, I realized that he was totally the type to snap and kill us.

The apartment itself was very big with wood floors, but looked into a shady courtyard so I did not anticipate a lot of light getting in.  It was on the ground floor and had bars across the window.  As I didn’t want to live in a dungeon or be murdered by my apartment manager, I nixed the Red Roof Inn as well.

Apartment Search, Day 1 (back in November)

In my opinion, the first apartment we looked at was too expensive for what was being offered, which was not very much space and no tolerance for painting an ugly railing or beige walls.  Ken really liked it, but only because he just wanted to find the perfect apartment right away and not have to look anymore.

Fortunately, since we were living with my aunt, we had the luxury of taking our time if we needed to.  We also were looking for a December 1 move in date, and it was early November.  Still, Ken wanted to be done already.

I nixed apartment number one based on cost and lameness, and at the same time, reduced the higher end of our apartment cost limit.  Ken was angered.