Little Hobbit House on the Prairie

I moved out of my pink trailer on August 7. Today, one month later (almost exactly), I am officially moved into my new place. (Granted, I could have started moving in last Friday, but I was out of town.) The past few weeks have been interesting, but people have been very kind and generous in allowing me to stay with them while waiting for this house to become available. Special thanks to Walt and Sonja - you rock.

I moved into an underground house in town. And by underground, yes, I really do mean underground. Like a hobbit house. It's like a basement...except that's the house. There's an attic "upstairs" (which is actually ground level), and then the "main" level of the house is the underground/basement part. It's peachy, except for moving in furniture and cell reception. Those two things, not so much. But I knew that coming in.

So, before I relay some of the day's comical events, let me just start by saying that it is WONDERFUL to have my own space again. It is wonderful to have a closet instead of a suitcase. And it is wonderful to have a housemate, and someone that I have known for a while so we don't have to go through the awkward "getting to know you" stuff. (I hope.) Being so uncertain of where I was going to be from one day to the next has taught me a very basic lesson: a bed and a roof are really all you need.

That being said, let's dig into the "Candy's ridiculous life: take 12,000." First of all, I "moved" straight into the house the night I got back from my vacation in Indiana...at around 11:30 p.m. Being out by myself at night has always creeped me out, and especially in a place that has a "night life" the way Mission often can, I disliked the timing of my arrival. But it's a 12-hour drive, and I don't like getting up at the crack of dawn to sit in a car all day.

Anyway. I spent about 10 minutes extracting the key from the hiding place created by my friend. (Mostly because my coordination was limited due to how tired I was. So once I finally got into the house, I made my way into my bedroom. This is when I realize, "Oh, huh. I don't have any of my bedding."

Luckily, my very nice friends left sheets on the bed. However, with no blanket, I got a wee bit chilly. I'm still not sure where my blankets are. (I found a substitute for now.) My stuff was (still is, to a point) interspersed between the attic of this house, my parents' house, the trunk of my car, and stashed under my desk at work. You can understand why I'm not sure what all ended up where.

That first night was just super fun, because not only did I wake up cold, I had a heck of a time falling asleep in the first place because right as I lay down, this story my coworker told me last week popped into my head. I guess some of her friends were asleep, and they woke up to this guy standing in their bedroom doorway, staring at them. He had broken in - through a basement window, no less - to their house and was being very creepy. I believe they chased him, but did not catch him. Naturally, my bed is right underneath the window without any kind of drape or curtain over it. So I spent about the first 45 minutes in bed just staring, wide-eyed, at that window. I think I left every light in the main part of the house on that night. Didn't sleep well.

So then I went to work the next day. And the next. And then I went to my parents' house for a couple days. So really, I didn't start moving in until yesterday (Sunday) afternoon when I got back. And by moving in, first I mean cleaning. My friends got back and did a ton of cleaning as well, and THEN I started to fully move all my crap in.

Once again I realize: I have too much stuff. And it's not like it's just stupid stuff I don't use...usually. Plus I went from my very own two-bedroom trailer all to myself to half of a two-bedroom house. So there's that.

So yesterday, after Javier repeatedly made fun of my teeny-tiny TV (deservedly so, it's ridiculously small), Rich and I moved my ghetto fabulous TV-console all-in-one downstairs. Got it all hooked up, got the remote programmed...couldn't get the satellite to work. First it was just showing us this infomercial thing; then it was stuck on HGTV.

Well later I'm in the living room and notice it's now on ESPN. This happens to be the same channel playing in Javier's room. So we tell Rich to change the channel in there. Sure enough, it changes the TV in the living room. Sooooo, can't really watch TV in the living room unless I want to watch whatever Javier is watching.

Which is fine, because that this point, the only place to sit in the living room is my beanbag chair. Have not as yet been able to find help to move the couch. And even if we find help, we're not sure it will fit. This process will be mucho frustrating, I have a feeling. Ay yi yi.

Other fun developments: The plaster in my ceiling has a gaping hole and is falling down; the door to my room came off its top hinges; my closet only has one of its two doors, and that door no longer fits/slides in the runner (it is now hiding behind my defective bedroom door...I thought they should be friends); Javier freaked me out by telling me about the time he saw a garden snake try to fit through the window; and finally, I think it's safe to say that every room in this house needs to be painted in some fashion.

But. It is a place to live. I have a comfy bed. I now have the windows curtained for my own peace of mind. It is close to work. It is cheaper than where I lived before because I'm splitting costs. I get to see another human being when I come home. And I have something of a yard to wander around in...during the daytime.

So that's the introduction to the hobbit house, my second permanent dwelling on the rez. I'm guessing that if we attempt to move this couch, it will provide material for a second blog.

Oh, and Happy Labor Day!