Thursday, August 16th, 2012
Remember two years ago when I said I was going to move to Vegas and I was like, Little Mary Sunshine about it? Defending my actions? Looking at the bright side, et al?
Yeah, I was an idiot.
We’re moving home in October — home being back to San Diego. And I’ll tell you what, I cannot wait. We’d have moved home sooner if we hadn’t signed a two-year lease (remember, we were being optimistic).
I won’t rehash all of the crap I’ve complained about over the last 22 months. In fact, I have to thank you, my dear friends, bloggers, followers, the planet Earth, for listening to me bitch and moan about having to lie in the bed I chose to make. Or something. Anyway, you’ve been awesome and not one of you ponied up an “I told you so”, so thanks for that.
Anyway, we’re getting the hell out of Dodge. We’re over it. And the two friends I’d made in this city, J and Z, they’re leaving, too — just a month ahead of us, so it’s time to go. I’ll miss our sushi times together, though and that sushi place. Lemon roll forever!
There’s a lot of work right now, which is going to make the transition a bit more harried. I tried to not overbook myself, but I just have this gift for spinning plates. So, while I’m carrying about 6-10 active projects, of varying size, I also need to travel to San Diego for 4 days in September to find a place to live, then within a month, pack the entire house and move back, taking another week off. So that’s going to be interesting.
My friend Eric has been kind enough to offer to fly out here from L.A. and drive our UHaul to San Diego for us. We’ve got movers on either end, but Mike and I need to both be in my car — one to drive, one to sit in back with Lulu. And then once we arrive in San Diego, Eric will take the train home and within a few days/weeks, Mike will fly back to Vegas to pick up his car (which we’ll park at his friend’s house) and drive it home.
Speaking of which, his car is not registered right now — we opted not to register it here in Vegas and just drive one car — so it’s been parked in the garage all this time. But we still need to drive it home without getting ticketed. Anyone done that before? We heard there’s “temporary registration”, but we’re unclear if we’re supposed to do it here in Nevada or in California or what. Ideally, I’d like to just take his plates and register the car in in California, let him fly up, put on the new stickers and drive it back. But it may need a smog check before they’re register it in California, so of course, the car would need to be there for that.
What I’d really like to do is leave it in the desert for the buzzards. But that’s not practical. Nor am I even sure if we have buzzards in the Mojave.
I priced movers — moving companies, moving van lines, shared moves, PODS and the assorted PODS-alternatives — it’s all crazy expensive. I got quotes from $1500-$3800 for our minimal amount of stuff. But, much like when we moved here, we can rent a UHaul, pay for gas, pay for movers on both ends (with tip), buy our friend a plane ticket and a train ticket and dinner and still be under $800. So we’re going that route, as convoluted as it may seem.
Coming off my trip a week or so ago to New York City for BlogHer 12, this is kind of a lot to do in a short period of time, but I think that may just be my mind making mountains out of molehills. Everything will get done, clients will understand, I may lose my shit from time to time, but ultimately, we’ll be home, which is my main goal at this point. Get home.
Thursday, April 28th, 2011
I have a doctor’s appointment next month in San Diego. My California insurance ends on June 1st, so I need to get all the bang my buck will allow. Plus, I love my doctor and frankly, I don’t feel like auditioning new gynocologists right now. It’s not the kind of thing you do on the fly, so to speak.
I used this as a fine excuse to take a mini vacation and spend four days in humidity above one percent. I get to drive in on Saturday morning, spend time with friends Saturday evening and Sunday (R Gang Brunch, my friends!), doctors appointments Monday afternoon, Mo’s Monday night, Tuesday to relax and do whatever, Wednesday, drive home.
I’m probably more excited about this than I should be, but I treated myself to a hotel with turn-down service and complimentary toiletries. I may as well be staying in Shangri La. I think it’s a fair trade-off if I’m spending part of my vacation having my tits smashed and parts prodded in a less-than-hospitable fashion.
So… yeah. Anyway. I have no idea where I was going with the rest of this post. I got to “tits” and like any decent American, forgot what I was talking about.
Thursday, November 11th, 2010
Daniel and Richard are on the left, you just can't see them.
So, I live in Las Vegas now. Here I am, a dyed-in-the-wool California girl in the desert… if California girls wore wool. I’m sitting on my familiar couch, typing on my familiar laptop, watching my familiar TV in a totally unfamiliar house and a mostly unfamiliar city. We dropped Daniel and Richard off at the airport a couple hours ago, Mike just left for work and it’s just me n’ the bun, getting to know this place.
Some things I’ve discovered thus far, in a handy unordered list:
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Friday, September 17th, 2010
As some of you may have guessed from my manic tweets, there’s a lot going on right now. I have a super duper full schedule due to some projects running longer than anticipated (you can’t rush awesome) and spontaneous opportunities that I’ve not been able to refuse.
One major opportunity I can’t talk about yet, which is killing a big mouth like me, but I promised and I’m only as good as my word. I also signed legal stuff, so there is that.
Another big thing is… well, I’m moving. Yes, again. But this time, I”m not just going across town, I’m moving to Las Vegas!
I’ll give you a second to insert any in a series of anticipated and oft-heard protests: read more >
Friday, August 13th, 2010
Now with photos and embarrassing video! Alright, so it’s not as exciting as all that, but we did have a really good time.
I left San Diego Wednesday at noon on Jet Blue, who despite the bird-flipping, slide-exiting, job-quitting flight attendant’s recent escapades, is a pretty awesome airline. The seats were roomy, I could stretch out my legs completely in front of me, there was free DirecTV (so I timed my entire trip by how many 30 minute Food Network shows I watched) and the snacks were tasty items like Terra Chips instead of crappy peanuts. And the pilot got us there almost 40 minutes before he said he would, so that was nice.
I took a cab into Manhattan from the airport and proceeded to spastically tweet about how to tip the cabbie. I’m an overtipper and standard tipping here is 20% for like, everything, it seems like, so with a $50 cab ride, I was concerned about giving too much. Of course, despite the encouraging 10% recommendations from Twitter, I still overtipped.
We decided to escape the hub-bub of Blogher, we’d stay elsewhere… so we booked ourselves at Empire Hotel. We found out after we made our reservations that it’s Chuck Bass’ hotel in Gossip Girl, which was pretty funny. While the staff and management at Empire were really lovely, the place was a total Monet. It’s much better on TV. It looks beautiful from a distance, but when you get up close, it’s much shabbier than the marketing implies. We knew it was a vintage building that had been renovated, but how long ago? There was water damage on the walls, the chairs were pretty worn, our rooms had cobwebs in the corners and the beds… oh my god, the beds. It was like sleeping in a mausoleum — hard, hard mattresses. HARD. We both were in pain by the end of the trip.
Oh, also? Apparently, the rooftop deck bar is the hot place to be on a Thursday night. There were lines of short skirts around the block to get upstairs. If they offer you the 11th floor, despite the spectacular views of Lincoln Center, don’t take it. You’ll hear remixes of Lisa Lisa and the Cult Jam and hooker heels on your ceiling until 3:30am (and heat rises, so the hallways were constantly like, Africa Hot, while our rooms were Meat Locker Cold). Given that we had to be up at 8am for the conference, we sweetly called down to management — I swear! I even made him laugh — and they moved our luggage to the old people’s floor for us the next day and knocked $75 off our bill for two nights. Like I said, great management, mediocre rooms, granite mattresses. It does have a lovely lobby bar, though. We called it our Brokedown Palace. With lube.
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