"Pack it Up, Pack it In" - AKA: Are we there yet?!?

As with any city, there are good parts and bad parts of Seattle. I have decided that Greenlake is a good part. J For the second day in a row I am enjoying the beauty Greenlake has to offer as I sit on a park bench along the east side of the lake, and right on the water, preparing to write about my first big Seattle adventure. But first, since I'm touching on the subject anyway, I'll elaborate on why my positive opinion about Greenlake is such. Besides the obvious physical beauty of the location (see below), the geographical situation directly west of my house and in fact lying in the way of 65th street (a major arterial to the outside world from View Ridge), makes it a prime destination from my neck of the woods. On top of that, I don't think I've ever been anywhere (save maybe a busy train station or two in Europe) that was so exceptional for people watching! A mix of upper middle class mothers (escaping from home while they have a babysitter for their "terrible 2's" no doubt), sorority girls in skimpy shorts, avid dogwalkers, a select few who could be considered as "overweight", and of course your competitive roller skaters/bladders cohabit the shores of Greenlake, compiling another Northwest Profile as prolific as any. I call them "Exercise Yuppies". They jog/walk/run/blade hooked into their iPods, with their little manicured pooches on retractable leashes, making chatter with a coworker or stylist, and undoubtedly sporting some form of lululemon athletic attire–since anything else would be considered unsuitable to run in. As I tend to buy most of my athletic wear from Target, I guess I can't be expected to understand their infatuation with designer running shorts and sports bras. Serene canoes, and one-man sailing vessels drift along on the water, and aside from the occasional sea plane headed to Lake Union, the scene is quite peaceful. On such a beautiful afternoon, it is hard to imagine I'm living in a city the size of Seattle. And certainly it is easy to forget the nightmare it was to move to such a place….

My moving story started so long ago it is difficult to actually place it. Somewhere back in the early spring, Bob and I discussed how we wanted to handle the move up to Seattle. We knew it would be quite a project, and I didn't particularly want to have to deal with it by myself, or try to complete it in a day (which was all Bob's job allowed). So we decided to make a little trip out of it, and schedule Bob's week of vacation so we could take our time. This meant we would have plenty of time to load the trailer, drive, unload the trailer, and have a few days to put away some stuff at the new house in Seattle.If you know me at all, you know I'm notorious for scheduling myself into the ground, and loving every minute of it! My May/June looked something like this:

Week 1: UORDC tour in North Bend/Coos Bay

Week 2: SSDC Tech

Week 3: SSDC

Week 4: UORDC tour in Medford

Week 5: Packing

Week 6: Moving

Week 7 : Oregon Shakespeare Festival in Ashland

Week 8: U of O Graduation and moving to Seattle!

Somewhere around week three or four of this schedule, I realized I had over estimated myself. I was in the midst of thanking God I didn't try to do this last year–when I was also trying to complete a senior project, choreograph, hold rehearsals, and graduate–when I had a complete breakdown. I was standing in my living room, holding a box, looking at piles of stuff that represented three years of my life, trying to figure out where to start…and I was frozen. Literally. I couldn't move. Luckily my phone was within reach, and without even thinking I called Celie (who has continuously been a voice of reason through this time of confusion).

I think the conversation went something like this:

Kate: Hey dude, what are you doing?

Celie: Just got done with class, I have a meeting at 4. What are you doing?

Kate: Standing in my living room freaking out!

Celie: Oh no! What's goin on?

Kate: I'm trying to pack…but I have no idea what I'm doing. I need help!

Celie: I can come help if you'd like?

Kate: Yes. I'm gonna call Bekah.

Celie: See you soon.

Kate: Thanks!

The second phone call, I remember much more exactly:

Bekah's voicemail: HEYYY!!! This is BEKAHHH!! I'll call you BAAACCKK! Bye!

Kate (in a very desperate tone): Becs, I'm trying to pack. I need you. Call me!

Half an hour later, my friends were at my rescue. Bekah had helped me pack my apartment when I moved to Italy, and was very familiar with my inability to pull myself out of the process and just get it done, so she went to work with boxes and markers loading up my life. We packed up about 80% of my house that day, in about 4 hours. A HUGE THANK YOU needs to be said here to Celie and Bekah…I honestly would still be meticulously sorting through stuff in Eugene if it weren’t for them. Love you ladies!! :)

SO, that was Wednesday!! As you can imagine, the rest of the week went pretty much the same: packing, stressing, planning, searching for things that might have been forgotten under couches or in drawers. Over all, a headache and a half! But, Sunday came and went as Bob and I dismantled all our furniture and made piles to be packed into the U-Haul, continuing the conversation of how and if all our stuff (my stuff, Bob would say) would fit into the trailer we had reserved. After about 10 discussions, 3 or 4 drawings, a few rounds of measuring tape analyses, and a "plan B" for our two "plan A"s, we decided to just wait and see how it went…and with that my week 5 was over!

Week 6 commenced early Monday morning when Bob and I went to pick up the U-Haul at around 8:30am. We gave ourselves the whole day to pack, and planned on leaving early Tuesday morning. We got the big stuff in just fine, I'm a big strong woman (ha ha), and started stuffing drawers and filling in spaces before bringing out the boxes Celie, Bekah and I had packed. Seriously the packing went great, not much to tell…it took all day, and we were both exhausted. We left a spot for our mattresses and collected a small pile of things left over before hitting the sack for the night. Tuesday, unfortunately, started off a little rockier. We woke up early, and got right to work finishing our last bit of loading before we headed north. We got the mattresses in (just barely), and just when we thought we were home free, I brought out the big glass shelves that fit into my TV stand. The idea was that these shelves would slide in between the mattress and the box spring. The first one fit OK, so I went ahead with the second which was the top of the stand and was apparently made a little differently. Since I was, of course, in a hurry, and not thinking about the fact that I was holding a sheet of sharp weapons in my arms, I started shoving away. Against a little resistance, I just pushed harder…bad idea. SMASH!!! The glass literally EXPLODED in my arms! I know it sounds like I'm exaggerating, but I swear I'm not. The glass honestly blew up into a million tiny sharp pieces all over me. I'm pretty sure I screamed something like "AhhhhhhaAAHHHAAAAHHHH!!" while Bob watched…probably finding it humorous. Glass was everywhere. On me, on the ground, in the trailer, in between the mattresses…it was a disaster! I really don't think I've ever been so startled in my life! It was supposed to be safety glass I guess, which is why it shattered, but I don't know what could have possibly been "safe" about that!!! Seems to me if they wanted to make glass safe they would make it strong enough to NOT break anytime you try to pack it into a U-Haul trailer…right? I still don't know why the glass behaved in that particular way, but needless to say, I've been a little skittish around glass since.

Obviously, cleaning up the glass was job #1 now, so we were a little later getting on the road than we'd expected, but we made it eventually. Heading up I5, away from Eugene, with a full U-Haul and the bed of the truck packed full of Bob's friend JP's stuff (whole other story), it started to actually sink in that I was not only moving to Seattle, but moving out of Eugene. This has been a hard concept for me to grasp. Luckily, there was no time to lament once we got up to Seattle, because the business of unpacking and returning the U-Haul in less than 12 hours (assuming we got some sleep) was looming ahead of us. It would be a long and fairly boring endeavor to spell out all of the events of moving in and unpacking, but I've included some photos below to give you an idea!

Moral of this story: Next time I move, I'm selling all my stuff, packing a couple suitcases, hopping on a plane, and starting over! No more moving trailers and glass debacles for me thank you!