Moving on up

c.the oxfordplacediaries.blogspot.com

I want to begin by apologizing for not updating this blog in probably over a month. I actually have several starts and stops that I will eventually post. I’ve been on the ride of my life moving to my new home.

So after a long searching process, finding my dream home; and a longer closing process; fraught with bureaucracy and delays, I have been moving into my townhouse.

It’s just across town; Simple, right?

Well actually, 12 years of accumulated stuff is much harder to get rid of when you’re moving just a short car ride away. I found myself less inclined to toss, despite my boyfriends many pleas. [Yes, I really need to keep all of the many drafts of the graphic design project I did in college. They are cool to look at]. I’m surprised he didn’t just make secret trips to the dumpster, actually. It required numerous car trips back and forth and two large Uhaul trips.

Going through that many years of disorganized stuff is humbling, to say the least. Towards the end, I just wanted to toss it all.

The third night we came home to the security alarm going off. I certainly didn’t set it.

As the blaring sound became more deafening by the minute, I frantically looked for the scrap of paper with the code that was given to me at closing. Of course I couldn’t find it.

[It kind of left me wondering what the point of an alarm is, if it doesn’t sound outside the house (which I was grateful for), and doesn’t notify a police station. What is the good of the alarm if the only person it alarms is me?]

We are kind of running into each other, tripping over stuff, when we called the ADT service center printed on the alarm box.

Yelling through the mind stunting noise,

“No ma’am, I don’t know the code, but I live here.” I am doing little thinking and more reacting,

She is surprisingly sympathetic to me. I guess when you are an ADT operator, you are used to situations like this. She told me calmly, and in all seriousness,

“There are two wires, a red and a black one, pull either one of them.”

“WHAT?!  Can I pull both of them?!”

My ADT operator is probably more ok than I am with being yelled at. Not because she does a bad job, but just so she can HEAR me above the alarm.

“Oh NO, you just want to pick ONE,” she said firmly.

I had never heard of such a solution. Though I was uncomfortable with it’s ambiguity, I was content to risk possible electrocution than to listen to another minute of that noise; I yanked one of them, I forget which. Blissful silence ensued.

Our next discovery was that some of the outlets don’t work, actually a good number of them. When I couldn’t make coffee the first morning, I was so ready to move.

We called an electrician to fix the outlets. Ever hear of a GFI outlet? Why would you?

The neighbors are very cool. Not as many characters as the old place, which seems kind of boring, yet relieving at the same time. I still plan on writing a book, possibly a series, about my old neighborhood. It will probably go easier from a distance.

I absolutely LOVE my new townhouse, but I’m sure I will have many more adventures to post about. Stay tuned….

c. 2013