Moving On

Boxes are being collected. Packaging tape purchased. Change of address card filled out. PG&E end and start date sussed out. The whirlwind of moving is entering it's beginning stages and reality has hit. Checked into the UHaul information today. Not only do they charge $29.95 for the rental, it's also 99 cents per mile. Thank goodness neither of us live that far away and I am moving a total of three blocks. But it just seems silly to charge per mile. Dang UHaul anyway. Although it wouldn't be two lesbians moving in with one another without one, right?

In preparing to move, I took a look at my phone which has been in my possession since 1997. It's an old school Uniden with speaker phone and answering machine. Super low tech. Somewhere down the line I got in the habit of storing old messages on it. Ones that made me smile, meant something special, marked significant events. These were left by girlfriends (now ex-es), my mom, nieces/nephews, and friends. There were 12 messages that dated as far back as February of 2000. Knowing that it's pretty koo-koo to retain words from so long ago, last week they were erased and sent into nothingness. It finally put closure on a few things which should have been resolved quite some time ago however lingered for one reason or another. The phone is now ready to be shared with no ghosts of Christmas past remaining stirring up thoughts of yesteryear which are gone but not forgotten entirely. Just put where they needed to be long ago, behind me.

Another realization took place last night. I will no longer have the opportunity to pursue my career as a drummer. While showing the apartment to a potential renter last evening, she said "Nice drums!". To which I replied "They are for sale, you interested?". She said yes immediately and I sold them for exactly their purchased value. Not sure if she will get the apartment but she did obtain a nice drum kit. As we were carrying them outside to her car I got the feeling that I have limited time to become the rock star I have had dreams of becoming since childhood. The drummer to me wasn't the showboat of the band but they held everything together. If Miss B and I ever are able to purchase a home perhaps I can get a kit again and give it another go but until then it's air drums for me. The new neighbors will probably like that as well, as will the three cats!