Between the time I was 18 and last month I have moved a total of 39 times.
You read that correctly…39
And last month DH and I departed the golden shores of California’s perpetual summer for a real, four-seasons-a-year climate in one of the Rocky Mountain states. And with this latest one, the number of times I’ve moved comes to 40.
I’m not even 40.
So why’d you move?
Temperature. Those of you who remember my post on the comic, “so hot” will undoubtedly recall my deep resentment of year-round heat. In that same post I briefly mentioned the time I up and left the entire USA for the snowy slopes of southern sweden.
And if moving to Sweden isn’t proof enough that I truly do hate the heat I don’t know what is. But Sweden is just one of the many places I have lived. And all the other times I’ve moved it was fairly easy because I only had myself and my limited collection of belongings.
The good thing about “traveling light” in life is that you can put all your stuff into one single car.
The bad thing is that single car can get stolen.
It was a beautiful car.
It was purple. Handed down from one of my sisters when motherhood forced her to trade up to a four door.
And I had just moved back from Scandinavia, I was temporarily staying with the same sister mentioned above, and when I found a room, I enlisted the help of the (dreadful) guy I was dating at the time. Let’s call him “Clark.”
Luckily for me “Clark” was the last dreadful guy I ever had to date because I met DH soon after.
But “Clark” (like a giant moron) started an argument about a stuffed animal of mine, he threw it across the room, so I kicked him out.
After he left I pouted, made some soup and went to sleep without unloading the car. And when I came out the next morning, the car, and everything in it was GONE.
Luckily my brother had an extra automobile sitting around so I wasn’t without a car for too long.
It should be noted here…
that the room I rented where the car was stolen was the same room where I was attacked by an entire colony of ants. (memorialized in the following old style comic storyline)
I actually toned down the story to put it into BotW. The true story involved thick black wall of creepy-crawlies swarming across the room, and I couldn’t tell the charming couple who owned the house that I had somehow infested their abode.
So I took the most toxic substance I could find. Freshly purchased Bubblegum scented Hello Kitty hand “soap” which may have secretly been napalm.
It actually disolved the skin on your hands when you tried to use it, and was discretely labeled with, “made in China.” and then VERY small below that “Keep out of reach of children. Avoid contact with eyes. If consumed contact poison control center immediately. This soap contains a chemical known to the state of California to cause cancer”
So I took the “soap” and poured it all over the ants, then stomped on it until I had a gray paste-goo full of twiggy little legs and still reeking of nuclear bubblegum.
So that move was certainly fraught with difficulty.
But this move was by far the hardest.
Because now I own things. Things like, a washer, a dryer, furniture, a husband, a dog.
And my husband owns things, like boots, and drills, and other man stuff.
And moving all that stuff is way harder than moving a car-full of clothing and a guitar because you have to rent a truck, and fill your cars full of your things, and drive for 16 hours in the dark over Donner Pass in the sudden and unexpected rain, with a freaked out dog in the passenger seat.
So, basically the entire point of this post has been to tell you that I haven’t been posting much lately because we were moving.