Greetings from the greater Boston area. Thanks for all the good wishes for the move! I sure do adore you blogger-folk and appreciate your kindness.
After a grueling day of loading the truck, four unpleasant days of driving the truck, and a downright painful day of unloading the truck, I can officially say that I am moved.
I did it all with my own two little stick-arms, too. No help packing, loading, driving, or unloading. This either makes me extremely independent or entirely stupid – or stupidly independent? Whatever the case, I am already thinking that I have got to come up with a better plan for next year’s move.
I can’t say that I am, you know, unpacked. Last night I bought a frozen entree only to realize that I had no idea about my silverware's location. As a result, I made a makeshift utensil out of a Dixie cup and some foil. MacGyver has nothing on GayProf.
What to say about the journey? Oh, how about it was hell? You see, I never really enjoyed long road trips. I enjoy traveling to a new place, but would rather get there as quickly as possible. The only benefit of doing a road trip, in my mind, would be to stop at all of those quirky out-of-the-way places that you would never make a special trip to see otherwise. For instance, the Woodrow Wilson Presidential Museum caught my eye.
Because of Cat, however, I could not really think of stopping. It struck me as unfair to risk roasting his little brain in a sizzling hot moving truck just to see how the museum handled Edith Wilson's shadow presidency.
With Cat in tow, what I saw of the many, many, many states (TX, LA, MS, AL, GA, TN, VA, MD, PA, NJ, CT, and MA) that I traversed only appeared in the windshield. I can say, though, that traveling across the many, many, many, many states reminded me of Texas’ lack of natural beauty. Seriously – Tennessee had brilliantly green forests. Virginia had blooming wild flowers (I grant that Texas also has wild flowers – for two days every Spring), Pennsylvania had rolling hills and cute farmhouses. Even Mississippi seemed nice (though I doubt I would want to live there).
Speaking of Cat, he did not enjoy the journey. This caused me a great deal of stress. I had some kitty-knock-out drugs, but I felt like drugging him against his will wasn’t really all that nice. Not that I am one of those people who anthropomorphizes his animals (which I don’t).
During the first day, Cat gave me quite a fright. He threw himself against his carrier cage. He painted as if in a sweltering desert (he had plenty of water available to him in his carrier, fyi). Then he started drooling. Feeling bad for the little guy, I let him out of his box once we got on the road. I learned afterward from Cooper (who is friends with a vet) that letting him out only increases Cat stress.
I would say Cat communicated his stress level to me. He crawled into my lap and promptly vomited all over me. Within the next ten minutes, he defecated on me as well. In terms of character building events, I would say traveling 70mph in a 10 foot rental-truck with a pile of cat shit cooling on your lap ranks highly. All of that occurred within the first hour of being on the road.
You know that people say, “Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you mentally stronger.” If this was really true, after all that I have been through, shouldn’t I be able to levitate tables with my strange psychic powers at this point? I am just saying.
Needless to say, Cat got the drugs the next day and stayed his carrier. He slept peacefully.
Of course, tense moments occurred every morning. Trying to both get him to take the pill and get back in his box tested both of our wills. By the third day of driving, Cat and I both felt exhausted. He looked at me with those sweet green eyes and seemed to suggest a murder-suicide pact. Rather than leaving the motel to face another day on the road, I seriously considered his offer. In the end, however, I suspected that he would not have kept his side of the bargain after offing me.
Now that I am here, though, I can start to think about the best way to utilize this year both personally and professionally. If you are near liquor, raise your glass in honor of GayProf’s new start. If you are not near liquor, what the hell is wrong with you?
Glad to hear you made it safe and sound (if not entirely sane)! Poor Cat; I hope he adjusts to the new digs quickly. Same goes for you, of course.
ReplyDeleteNow, Boston, let the magic begin!
well, i have to say, even though i love and adore you (as every reader of your blog should), there's not enough money in the world to have paid me to ride along with you and a psycho-cat that first day. i would've puked on your lap too. that said, i'm glad that you're in bean town and settling in.
ReplyDeletenext time you move, find out first if there's a day labour place that you can hire a few men for a few hours to do the heavy lifting work. we have one called "crocus coop." they've saved the backs of many women at my former work place on many occassions.
in the nonce, i'll hope that you get a tenure track position at the place you're at so you don't have to tolerate the texan scenery ever again.
You have my respect. I despise moving, and I'm not entirely convinced that I'd be able to handle what you did without having at least a mini-breakdown.
ReplyDeleteSavor your victory!
Yay, GayProf is back to blogging! Yay! Life as I know it can go on. Now that you've survived your grueling trip --did you really think Texas would let you out of its clutches *easily*?!!--I am totally psyched to hear about your adventures in Boston, which is one of my favorite cities.
ReplyDeleteChad: I despise moving, and I'm not entirely convinced that I'd be able to handle what you did without having at least a mini-breakdown.
ReplyDeleteUm -- define breakdown? I am not sure that I qualified as not having had one -- or several.
Toast duly acknowledged (clink, clink). Glad to know you've arrived safely and I have a friend who would affirm that you made the right choice re: the murder-suicide pact for he believes cats are not to be trusted. Cat won't want to leave Boston, you know. Even after you've been forgiven for inflicting that road trip on him in the first place.
ReplyDeleteLooking forward to hearing of your adventures in Boston.
Congrats on a successful move! (Success here is defined as: "having not died before reaching your destination." Similar to "what doesn't kill you...").
ReplyDeleteBtw, I loved John Malkovich in "Dangerous Liaisons." Awesome movie.
Kudos to you on surviving the drive. Having driven long distances with a cat I sympathise with your ordeal.
ReplyDeleteNow you can relax and enjoy being away from Texas!
You didn't go through Delaware?
ReplyDeleteWelcome to Eastern Standard Time! Glad you (and Cat) made it safely :-)
ReplyDeleteI would raise a glass to toast your triumph; however, I'm at work and very hungover. Just thinking about likker is making me queasy.
I like the scatty cat story, tee hee! Welcome to your new digs!
ReplyDeleteI once moved across country with 3 cats wandering around the cab of my small truck. Two decided to get into a scuffle beneath my feet at about 2 a.m. as I was trying not to fly down a long, steep winding road in the Blue Mountains while an 18-wheeler was passing me. Yikes. I'm afraid I may have lost a bit of my cool, reaching beneath, grabbing scruff, and flinging passengersidewards.
ReplyDeleteAnd I can't raise my liquor glass right now because I'm on my way to work. But once I get there . . .
Congrats on your arrival!Now hit Cape Cod. The ocean is awesome this time of year.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you arrived safely, though you have the patience of a saint for enduring your kitty's misadventures during the first day. I'm also selfishly glad you're getting settled into your new place, as I was starting to go into a bit of GayProf withdrawal.
ReplyDeleteAnon: No Delaware – I went diagonal from Maryland through PA.
ReplyDeleteTornWordo: Somehow, I knew that you would like that story.
Joe - MG: You are right, I did go through a tiny piece of NY. Much of the last part of the route, though, involved trying to avoid any traffic associated with NYC. Thus, I don’t think that I could have crossed a smaller part of the state.
Earl: Your story is why I make it a strict life-policy to only have one animal at a time. It is also another reason why I have no desire for children (who are basically little animal things in my mind).
Dorian: GayProf withdrawal can be a serious medical condition! I hope that Pete had your doctor's emergency number close to the phone.
Aww, but dogs are easier in little packs. One dog is a handful, two dogs entertain each other forever. Add a third, and you're just asking for trouble. A fourth, and you're just stupid. (I was downgraded from stupid to asking by nature, last November.)
ReplyDelete"In terms of character building events, I would say traveling 70mph in a 10 foot rental-truck with a pile of cat shit cooling on your lap ranks highly. All of that occurred within the first hour of being on the road."
ReplyDeleteEw. All I can say is, EW.
I'm so glad you made it. It'll be fun reading your adventures on the East Coast. Hope Cat makes some new kitty friends, and doesn't get teased for her Texas twang.
Yay! OK, so now what?
ReplyDeleteDo you have enough room in your new place to store everything? I'm thinking Texan houses are alot bigger than here.
I'm betting your cat was traumatized from the time you started packing your stuff in your old house. Cats seem to react badly to any kind of change - though they always get used to it over time.
I have a similar cat story. Thanks for the vivid reminder.
ReplyDeleteGlad you arrived safely and no animals were harmed in your journey. Mostly, glad you have internet access again.
Atari Age: Yay! OK, so now what?
ReplyDeleteHmm... Well, I still need to work on getting tenure for my Texas university and/or find another job. I still need to forget about liar ex and the many lies that he told. I still have much popular culture to worship and/or critique. So, basically now is the same as before, only in the Greater Boston Area. Which, let's face it, automatically makes my life better than Eastern Texas. Besides, I get to start fresh -- which is nice.
As for space/stuff. In the past year I went from a 2800 sq. ft. Texas house (that I still need to sell) to a 1200 sq. ft. apartment that I sublet (to get away from skanky liar ex, who had a whole new relationship, but decided that he really didn’t need to move out of the house himself because that would be, you know, inconvenient to him. He also thought that it would be just fine for me to have a front-row seat to him building that new relationship) to my current 600 sq. ft. studio.
Fortunately, liar ex sent me an e-mail shortly before he finally did move out of the house saying that he was "inclined" to take all of the furniture and other joint possesions. His general rule of thumb was that anything that I owned before we met was mine, anything that we bought together was his (unless he did not want it, then he generously left it for me).
To be honest, I just didn't give a fuck about material possessions at that point. His greed was just more evidence of his screwed up personality and priorities. So he can keep his precious items.
I am happy to start over with the meager possessions that I own that also just happen to fit in my new studio.
Unlike dykewife, (though I do love you) I have to say that I was totally rooting for your Cat. And I also have to say that if I was a cat and you did such things to me I would have responded the same way, only tried to cough of a furball too. Hey, when you can't speak the options of expressing your anxiety are limited.
ReplyDeleteThe story did make me laugh out loud - I hope you are recovering from your moving stress and able to turn your new place into the 1950's kitchen and fantasy land it so richly deserves.
Ugh...I can hardly stand the 10 minute drive to work! Driving halfway (or more) across the country would have blown my mind. But I wish I could have been with you on the ride to help out and keep Cat under control. And to "unwind" in the motel at the end of the day. :)
ReplyDeleteLiar Ex (who told many lies) will have his day of reckoning, never fear. He'll fuck over the wrong guy one day and it'll be curtains for him. I can only hope that you'll know about it when it does (inevitably) happen. Meanwhile, clink-clink...here's a toast to our own Gay Prof and to the fulfillment of his greatest dreams and fondest hopes.
ReplyDeleteOh man, I am so happy I don't have a cat right now :)
ReplyDeleteCongrats on your success!!
That had to have been a hell of a drive!! But I'm glad you like the east coast - us folks out here love the beautiful scenery.
ReplyDeleteI was reading some of your posts prior to your trip a while back, so I know what the trip was about. And no, I'm no a blogger, nor do I wish to be one, but I enjoy reading them a bit too much for my own good.
ReplyDeleteI think you are pretty courageous to do all of that by yourself. You may not be able to levitate tables now, but maybe by the time you get back (if you ever do). What you did may sound crazy to a lot of people, but what you call stupidly independent I call strong willed.
Good to see you made it to Boston in one piece and congrats!
Rey: Thanks! I appreciate being called strong willed. It beats what I called myself while lugging all that crap up the stairs.
ReplyDeleteWOOO!! Here's to Boston *raises a glass of Johnny Walker Black*...
ReplyDeleteWhat? I like Scotch!
GayProf, I completely sympathize. When I moved from Daytona Beach, FL, to Atlanta, GA years ago, I had almost exactly the same experience with my poor kitty.
ReplyDeleteIn addition to making similar mistakes (kitty enjoyed sitting on my shoulders although thankfully no bodily fluids were released when she was in that position), once I gave kitty sedatives (which I also hated doing), I made the mistake of letting her out of her cage thinking that she would sit peacefully and no longer yell at being caged. Instead, she climbed into the back seat, got into the floor well, fell over on her back and was so drugged she couldn't flip herself over. She wailed as, like a cute, furry turtle, she laid on her back, unable to right-side herself. I had to pull over and reposition her and finally caged her again.
Oh, I feel your agony! Congrats on surviving the move!
Aww, how I love you. I moved once with a very old cat who crapped and puked on me, yes I did. And I've moved with a thankfully younger cat who just howled until we got across the Rocky Mountains. Luckily in the upcoming move, my husband gets the cat (on her first airplane ride--I'm sure it will be a joy) and I get to drive cross-country with the mice.
ReplyDeleteWho are, at least, quiet.
Hey, GayProf. I'm just catching up on some of your posts, and wanted to add my congratulations to you and Cat for making it. You are a stronger person than I am for moving in yourself. Hell, I can't even go to the movies by myself, and that doesn't involve heavy lifting.
ReplyDeleteWhen Mrs. Nator moved from GA to NYC, she did the moving truck drive with two cats. No pooping ensued, but there were a few anxiety meds and a great deal of cat smuggling (punishable by death in Qatar) involved. Even when kitties enjoy travelling, it can still be harrowing. The Nator family salutes you!
Here's hoping Boston and the coming year grant you all sorts of positive changes. Salud!