request to turn back time
Apr. 27th, 2005 03:03 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aruanMan, moving sucks. I say that every time, but seriously, it's truly an exercise in frustration and unebbing disappointment as you pack box after box after box and make no progress, even though there isn't a terrible lot that fits into a 9x7 room to begin with. It is, as Geoffrey Rush said, a mystery. However, I am going to get to live in Campus Lodge, something I've wanted ever since seeing it for the first time four years ago. The rent is a little unreasonable for a three-bedroom, but I get my own bath and a property that is right out of Disney's Wilderness Lodge catalogue.
However, there were quesadillas while packing up the kitchen with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
walkingshadow and a belated cameo by my mom after fighting six hours of traffic to get to me. I don't think I let go of her for at least a full minute. As of a month ago, I would've given just about anything to so much as see her, so to actually hug her was v. good. I told her she didn't have to come up early and really, I had a majority of the packing under control by the time she walked in, but she helped with the sticky stuff on my posters and the other little things that would've made me insane if it weren't for her.
Mike gamely undertook the thoroughly unenviable task of helping us carry everything downstairs from, yes, the third story. Ugh. God invented elevators for a reason, you'd think of all people, these academic types would've made with the 20th century. But then there was iced tea and grub at T.G.I. Friday's over too much office and J-school deficiency talk while Mike and I played off our delayed graduations. It's not a thing with us - after all, there are worse ways to kill time than getting to helm the Alligator - but people worry about numbers higher than four when it comes to the education sphere.
And after everything settled into a blessed moment of lazy silence, I realized that after tomorrow, I'm not going to be living with or anywhere near Miranda. I subsequently waylaid her in the hallway into an extended hug, all the while gamely not snotting all over her hair and dripping tears onto her collar. That will be for the forthcoming afternoon. Of course I'm now regretting every second of this semester I took her for granted, yadayadayada appreciate what you've got while you've got it. But really, do it. I'm sitting in her open door typing this, watching her pack up her room, and all I can think is a thousand late nights and meetings for lunch at Broward Dining and coffees out on the town and playing War in Denny's and discussing fic loudly over dinner at Don Pablo's and how wretchedly I'm going to be messed up without her.
However, there were quesadillas while packing up the kitchen with
walkingshadow and a belated cameo by my mom after fighting six hours of traffic to get to me. I don't think I let go of her for at least a full minute. As of a month ago, I would've given just about anything to so much as see her, so to actually hug her was v. good. I told her she didn't have to come up early and really, I had a majority of the packing under control by the time she walked in, but she helped with the sticky stuff on my posters and the other little things that would've made me insane if it weren't for her.Mike gamely undertook the thoroughly unenviable task of helping us carry everything downstairs from, yes, the third story. Ugh. God invented elevators for a reason, you'd think of all people, these academic types would've made with the 20th century. But then there was iced tea and grub at T.G.I. Friday's over too much office and J-school deficiency talk while Mike and I played off our delayed graduations. It's not a thing with us - after all, there are worse ways to kill time than getting to helm the Alligator - but people worry about numbers higher than four when it comes to the education sphere.
And after everything settled into a blessed moment of lazy silence, I realized that after tomorrow, I'm not going to be living with or anywhere near Miranda. I subsequently waylaid her in the hallway into an extended hug, all the while gamely not snotting all over her hair and dripping tears onto her collar. That will be for the forthcoming afternoon. Of course I'm now regretting every second of this semester I took her for granted, yadayadayada appreciate what you've got while you've got it. But really, do it. I'm sitting in her open door typing this, watching her pack up her room, and all I can think is a thousand late nights and meetings for lunch at Broward Dining and coffees out on the town and playing War in Denny's and discussing fic loudly over dinner at Don Pablo's and how wretchedly I'm going to be messed up without her.
