So, you just moved your entire life from New Orleans to Colorado Springs via one 14 foot Uhaul and a filthy Kia Sorento....
Oh wait, no, that was me. And my long suffering boyfriend, Clinton. But mostly me. Me is the important part here, obviously (Just ignore Clinton, he's a bit of a whiner). In any case, we had been planning this little (20-ish hour) road trip for the better part of the past 6 months, so we felt fairly well prepared for what was in store for us. Yeah. This is the part where we can all laugh about it now that the horror is finally over.
First of all, if you have never moved out of state before, you think you know, but you have no idea. And I have moved out of the COUNTRY before. That was actually easier. There was less furniture moving and more men speaking to me in lovely British accents. Uhauls are stupidly expensive, and apparently even the manliest of men will grow vaginas and start PMSing when forced to drive one (Incidentally, if you casually mention this fact to your boyfriend over your walkie talkie somewhere in the middle of North Texas, he might threaten to leave you at a very inconvenient rest stop. WHICH IS RUDE).
Sidenote: Never ever ever ever EVER drive through Texas if you can avoid it. When they say "Texas Forever", they are NOT KIDDING. I truly did not think we were ever going to get out. That state does not end. We spent the first night in Wichita Falls, TX, in a charming La Quinta, after driving for roughly 13 hours. I trudged into the motel room, landed flat on my face on the bed, cradled my new pillow friend tenderly, and softly muttered to Clinton, "We live here now." I was ready to give up and move into the La Quinta Inn. Texas had won.
Or so I thought, until my Nazi Boyfriend woke me up at the butt crack of dawn and made me get back on the road in spite of my various and colorfully worded protestations.
"FINE," quoth I, "but I demand that we stop at Starbux forthwith for a Venti Peppermint Mocha with Soy (no whip)!"
"OK, weirdo, just get dressed, I'll go put stuff in the car. Hurry up." Said the Nazi.
Five minutes later, I was in the Kia and Clinton knocked on my window with a pathetic cup of La Quinta coffee in hand. Ironically, having not had my coffee, I was having NONE of this bullshit. I rolled down the window and screamed brattily "DO NOT WANT SHITTY COFFEE! WANT STARBUX!" He stormed off to the Uhaul looking murderous.
I am pretty terrible. I considered trying to make up for this by using the walkie talkies as my own personal karaoke machine, but quickly realized my rendition of Neil Diamond's Brother Love's Travelling Salvation Show would probably just make things worse. I am nothing if not a quick thinker. I opted for the soundtrack to Les Miserables instead.
Just Kidding.
I think that's enough for now. More on the move later, kiddos ;)
