We made it! But it was
hella wicked hard, and there’s no way I would have made it without a LOT of help from a LOT of people. So I want to say thank you to those who helped me out:
1.) My sister, for using her show’s hiatus week to brave the SF cold, pack my stuff, clean my apartment, and put up with my stressed bitchiness.
2.) Anthony the postal worker, who let us skip the line during out second Post Office pass and was so helpful that my sister and I felt the need to shake his hand when all was said and done.
3.) All of my patrons on Craigslist, for not being creepy, but especially Nicole, who wouldn’t give up on getting the massive armoire out of my apartment in spite of learning the hard way that her probably 130lb. boyfriend cannot move 300lb. furniture, and – scarier – thinks he can.
4.) My mother, who flew to SF for a total trip of 12 hours, flew to Boston with me and the cats, and put up with my screaming at TSA while they insisted on bomb-swabbing both of our hands while we were each holding one of my cats and did not bat an eyelash when I made a bee-line for some beer during our layover.
5.) My cats, for not making a run for it while being bomb-swabbed, (giving into the drugs and) sleeping the entire flight, and barely skipping a beat once arriving at our new home.
6.) Colleen’s Civic, for being deceptively spacious and fitting 5 suitcases, a saddle, a massive computer bag, two cats, and three humans. Comfortably, I might add!
7.) Colleen, for being the best best-friend ever and running pre-arrival errands for me, picking me up, and making this the easiest move to date.
8.) My aunt Dorothy, for letting me – and two cats – stay in her beautiful new house while I embark on what is sure to be a difficult apartment hunt.
9.) Posto, for being delicious and having an 8:45pm reservation for 5 on a Saturday. And for bringing us all kinds of free food when that reservation wasn’t reallllllllly honored.
10.) Redbones, for being the most amazing BBQ place in the northeast by day, and a FANTASTIC beer bar at night that also makes a limit-two-per-person-because-it’s-so-strong drink called the Mexican Martini.
10b.) Colleen’s boyfriend Matt, for suggesting we order the Mexican Martinis.
From the bottom of my heart, thank you all. I would probably still be sitting on a floor in San Francisco surrounded by piles of my clothing (as I was a week ago) having a panic attack without you. Thank you.