geekent’s stuff’n things

(Note: this post was supposed to go up yesterday but since I’ve been dipped in the wax of chaos and lit aflame with a sulfuric flick of the time-consuming match, I didn’t get to it… but yes, busy. Now: post)
The BOBTown is completely moved out… or at least I’m completely moved out of BOBTown. With Toast’s help Tuesday we played Tetris with some furniture and crammed the AutoShare van full with the 70’s yellow flower sofa and chair, then stacked the disassembled futon bits within the remaining space. A jaunt over to the Parliament Sally Ann and the materials were received. One girl who was volunteering there took one look at the sofa and chair with their wooden spindle arms and had the exact same reaction I did to them: “Oh my god, those are awesome!” She’s actually the first person to have such a reaction to them, and I think her excitement even exceeded my own. We had a 70’s green floral print couch and matching chair when I was younger and I loved that couch, but it was donated to my cousin Shannon one year and after one of her hundreds of moves it was never seen again. This proved to be a perfect supplement, and I was sad to get rid of it. Alas, the space to store it just wasn’t available. Anyway, the girl at the Salvation Army, a college student, said she was totally buying them, having just moved into a new place and needing furniture. She asked if they were in great condition, and I gushed, confirming their awesome comfyness, having only had them for about 5 years, purchased from the Sally Ann in Barrie for about $60 for the pair. A great deal, which hopefully she too gets on them, and enjoys them as much as I did. I’m comforted knowing they’re going to a good home.
Venturing back to BOBTown, Toast and I mustered the gusto and took the out-of-use-for-a-year washing machine, in all it’s heavy awkward glory, down to the van. Toast smacking himself in the face for the second of four times in the evening. That poor man, with his crushed hands and dinged-up face… I owe him more than just dinner and a few freebie giveaway comics and movies for all his pain and suffering. The mattress was forced into the van in awkward contortions (when the mattress was moved into the house it managed to catch onto a cord and rip a power socket out of the wall) where lamps and other assorted remnants were placed on top. The dining table couldn’t make it down the stairs without the legs removed, and I forgot to bring a screwdriver or drill, and with Jeremy not home, I didn’t know if he had anything around, so a third trip was necessary to complete the journey.
But it’s done.
I’m relieved.
Now we have one mattress and dining table too many at NoYo, but eventually Aden’s parents will take those away, and my sister will take her junk (it’s not really junk) and then our basement will be, oh, 2% cleaner.

Happy Birthday…

to my brother from another mother, Ryan. Aden is getting her first dose of Thunder Bay where my man lives in two days, and I’m really looking forward to the trip. It’ll be five days of cramped visitation time, but it’ll be a nice change of pace from everything else that’s been keeping me fed and tied as of late.

speaking of which

When I get back from Thunder Bay, I’ll have one day to settle back in before upheaval hits again… why?

That’s why. I’m covering the Toronto After Dark Film Festival for CHUD.com (where I also write reviews for Thor’s Comic Column). I was actually approached to cover the Fest for this site alone, and as much as I’m sure the dozen (or two) readers who actually bother with my missives would appreciate, I don’t think that small amount of coverage is really worth the time… so I approached CHUD about it and they gave it all systems go.
Should be a blast.
Exhausting.
(get it, blast… exhaust… never mind)

but wait… there’s more

I was also asked if I wante to cover another festival this week:
Indie Week Toronto Music Festival which kicks off tomorrow, unfortunately… well, see above… too much going on and not enough me.
le sigh.
Looks like interesting times. If you have the time give Indie Week a go.

Sweet (really)

With Adrienne at her wedding shower (I know the timeline is off) last night I was anticipating a “stepson and me” bonding evening. Unfortunately by the time I got back from the polling station, the wee one had found Uncle B (who lives in the basement) and the two of them were embroiled in secret meeting of the “No Graig’s Club” (not really, but that’s kind of what it felt like) and thus leaving me to my own devices for a while.
I was a little sad to have the carpet of expectations yanked out from under my hopeful feet, and I felt pretty aimless for most of the evening, until I saw my mission as “replacement mommy” whereby I would ensure he had a proper meal and things remained as status quo as when Aden’s around.
A dinner eaten and more Uncle B. time put it, it was bathtime, when B took off, leaving me to do the post-bath ritual and put the little guy to bed. Although I’ve been around for a year now in his life, I’m still not that brushed up on the post-bath routine that Aden does every night he’s here… but no worries, I was guided through.
Storytime first… a “Teen Titans Go” comic. While I’m not anywhere near as good at doing the voices (Aden does a bang-on impersonation of all of the cartoon voices except Cyborg), I did get to have fun with my G.W. Bush and Robert Evans impersonations.
After storytime and teeth brushing, it was time for a cuddle and a song in the rocking chair. It was here that the bonding moment I was looking for occured, when, as my stepson described it, only Aden (and not even his Dad) do the cuddle and the song. Unfortunately I was a little overcome with stage fright and no songs came to mind. I asked for suggestions, so he recieved a lullaby medley of “Twinkle Twinkle” b/w “ABCD”, and then a reprise lullaby of “B-I-N-G-O”. Half asleep he crawled into bed, gave me a hug and said good night, and it’s at that moment that you realize how utterly precious children are, and how much this little guy means to me. Yes, I’m geting sentimental, but you can’t help it when kids are involved.
There… that’s my dose of saccharine all used up for the year.

Coming Soon

Because I don’t have enough to do:
the Exploding Head Movies PODCAST!
(it’s going to rock.hard.)

The move is done and BOBTown is live!
Sweet merciful crap, thank the gods it’s over.
Yes, dear reader, the Metrogeek (aka the roommate, aka “Rooms”) and I moved to our new and most Airwolf abode near Church and Carlton (aka “the Bottom of Boy’s Town”, aka “BOBTown”) on Saturday. It wasn’t the bestest move ever, but it got done. Sweet sassy mo-lassy, thankfully it did get done.
The first snag happened a few days before the move when the U-Haul agent called Rooms to say that a) the 16-ft cube van we were renting would now be a 14-ft cuber, and that the pickup would now be off the metro line and instead in Mississauga. Ugh. With such short notice it was nigh impossible to find an (affordable) alternative in time so we worked with the hand (or Hauler) we were dealt. (It’s now that I reveal to Rooms the fact that U-Haul have a notoriously shoddy record and they use Arizona’s lax vehicular quality rules to keep their trucks in ill repair. There’s an oft repeated W5 exposé that details U-Haul’s rolling deathtraps).
The second snag wasn’t really a snag but more of a quandry. Our new landlord wasn’t sure when the old tenant would be moving out and so he wasn’t certain when we could move in. Our plan was to load up the van on the Saturday and move in first thing Sunday morning. We had the van from 1pm Saturday to 1pm Sunday, so lots of time to load, not so much with the unloading.
Snag number three was getting some able bodies to help out for two day. Knowing how brutal moving is, I felt kind of guilty for asking people to lend a hand, but then again, when help was offered I didn’t turn it down. By Friday, I had nobobdy confirmed and a tentative helping hand from my cousin who was visiting Toronto from Thunder Bay for a work-related seminar. Rooms had a few people lined up but wasn’t sure when they would come or how much heavy lifting they could do… I had confirmed a quartet of helping hands for the Sunday unload but wasn’t sure who Rooms had lined up.
Snag number four was packing. I spent about three weeks packing and up and until the day of the move I still wasn’t done. Certainly the majority of my ample crappage was boxed away, alas there was a whole treasure trove of miscellany to be put away. I woke up early Saturday to get crack-a-lacking on it, and by 10am the place looked nearly like it was ready to load up. And yet all that piddly fiddly shit was still staring me in the face: some unwashed dishes, a bike pump, laundry detergent and other random bits that don’t really fit nicely into a box together. Noon came and Rooms left to pick up the truck. By 1:00 I was ready to get loading, but the phone rang with Rooms on the other line with snag five.
The van’s not there.
Shit.
An hour later the van has arrived and Rooms calls from the road. My cousin has arrived as has our friend Lala (mercy be, thanks ladies for showing up). Seventh snag: the truck must be back for 9am the next morning.
What?
Bullshit!
What?
So yeah. U-Haul fraked us over, big-time. We still havn’t gotten the truck bill, but I’m certain our rectums are going to be sore when we do. They seem pretty unforgiving.
We got the house emptied of all boxes and most of the furniture by 5:00, staying in close contact with our landlord who said the old tenant was going to be out by 6:00, but called later to say by 8:00. I was stressing as we topped out the van but still had a handful of miscellaneous things to pack up (a few of Rooms’ freinds and family with vehicles, as well as my sister in her rental car came by to pare back the randomness by loading up their rides).
Toast and Marmy showed up about 6:00 and I was at the height of panic mode. The random bits were freaking me out, and I didn’t know when we could move into the new place, thus I couldn’t tell people when to arrive at the new place. Toast and Marmy took control, having had more than a handful of major extro-city moves under their belts, they knew what to do. It was exactly what was called for. My cousin, meanwhile, was cleaning up and around the place which was also very useful.
Rooms and his dad did a scouting recon to BOBTown, calling back to say that move-in would be ready for 8:30. I made the calls to the off-loading help and proceeded to drive the U-Die…erm U-Haul to BOBTown. I needed to fuel up along the way, and would you believe that the way the truck was built made it almost impossible to remove the gas cap? It’s U-Haul, of course you would. It took three minutes just to get the gas cap off. $66 and a few Kilometers later we arrived at BOBTown to find the gang moving like ants back and forth offloading the objects from the cars that beat us there.
By 10:00 the van was free of boxes and the majority of furniture. Pretty much all that was left was the heavy stuff: a couch, a chair, a washing machine, mattresses… Washing machines are frickin’ heavy, and I strained my forearms lugging that sucker out of the Ronces with my cousin, but getting up to the second floor of BOBTown was even more challenging. There aught to be an easier way (there is, it’s called a “dolly”). I was worried the couch and chair weren’t going to fit up the stairwell, so we tried the chair first (since the chair and couch match, it was a reasonable assumption that the couch would fit if the chair did). I’ve actually had moves with tighter fits, so it was a pleasant surprise. The couch also went up near effortlessly except for the fact that it felt like my forearm was a balloon that just exploded from too much helium. Toast’s muscles came in very handy. I managed to wreck my knee in the process which I’ll be paying for at least for the next few days.
I took Sunday off to recoup and watch the hockey game (see previous post), and Rooms kept himself busy organizing BOBTown rather nicely. It’s coming together pretty sweetly and will be, I think, one of the most airwolf apartments in the city once we’re done.
The pain… yeah.. worth it.
Hiring movers if ever I decide to leave, though. For sure.