So ever since yesterday’s post, I’ve been singing “love is not love” to the tune of Brother James’s Air. I just tried to find a recording of it to link to, but I had no luck. Or maybe I’m just retarded. Anyway, I feel relieved that I’m not the only one who gets scared about moving far away. We won’t be anywhere near the grandparents (all 5 are within 75 minutes of us now), but I do have some relatives in Indiana, about 2 1/2 hours away. We already have a date for Thanksgiving. Or an appointment, I should say, since most of us are aware that Thanksgiving is already scheduled for this year. But we do have a place to go for some good tofurky.
And my other best friend lives 5 hours away, in Tennessee. I say my other one, because I haven’t really talked about her, but I can’t live without her. She’s not the one I grew up with, or the cousin, but the one I met in the Philippines. When we met, we instantly had one of those eternal friendships that casual observers don’t understand. I guess most people thought we were constantly fighting, but we were really having animated discussions on philosophical questions. And by animated, I mean there were raised voices. Sheila and I have had this same relationship in the 10 years we’ve known each other, but it’s usually higher decibel while we’re living under the same roof. Sheila always forgives me. (I should add that my real and most bestest friend is the one I live with now, but he’s a boy, and we all know the difference.)
Here’s the poll of the day.
Which one would you choose, if you were moving across the country and didn’t want to buy a house without getting to know the area pretty well?
1. A more expensive apartment ($1050 per month) with more room (4 bedrooms and 1500 sq ft) that has a washer and dryer, that’s just across the street from a major water-park and only 5 minutes from Trader Joe’s, but 2 miles from the elementary school, and only has 12 month leasing options, or
2. A smaller (1100 sq ft, 3 bedroom), cheaper apartment ($700-$800) that has washer/dryer hookups, that’s 5 minutes closer to work, 1 mile from the school, and has 3, 6, and 9 month leasing options, which would be handy, should we get lucky and find that perfect house to buy.
Bigger means no storage unit, and a possible room for the study/music room. Can you believe I just said that? I need to know what to do with my baby grand piano, which I love. And we have bazillions of books. I’m addicted to books. And how stupid is it to rent a place without having seen it?
I trust my faithful blogging friends, since you all have experience in this field. Not to do any shameless name-dropping, but Daring Young Mom called me yesterday and offered her services in finding climate-controlled storage for my piano. I should name the piano. It would be simpler if I could say, “Storage for Henrietta,” or, “What kind of restraints do I need, to move Henrietta?” Then again, what if Child Protective Services came calling? And the name-dropping thing reminds me of a story a lady told in church on Sunday, about one of her former students who stood to inherit a million dollars on her eighteenth birthday. Yes, you guessed it, the student in question was truly Paris, the Heiress. Maybe I’ll name the piano Paris. My piano wants to be famous, too.
*Update: My mom says she would pay the $1000 just to have the washer in the apartment. And the extra space is a big bonus.