That's all the review I'm going to give about AI. Okay, just kidding. Because I actually watched the individual performances online (thanks, Katie, for the heads up!). Kristy Lee Cook blew it out of the park. For the first time, I actually thought she did well! David, Jason, David C. and Michael were Awe. Some. I loved all four of "my boys"! They did great. Brooke? Eh. Sayesha? Eh. Carly? Why does she always have to scream? It's like she adds those licks to her songs just so everyone will remember she can sing loud or something. Annoying, Carly! So annoying!
I do, however, wish I had seen all the cool and famous performances by all the cool and famous people. I sure enjoy that type of stuff, you know.
The Move: Part I
Well, it was a crazy time, this moving business. Let me give you the run-down:
The last time you heard from me I was packing. For three weeks, I had been packing boxes and loading them into the garage. Brandon and I are crazy organized when it comes to packing (one of the reasons why we didn't want to hire movers to pack our stuff) and we have been complimented many-a-time (okay, just the times we move) with our "system." Said system runs like this: Every box is packed exactly tight, thus making them secure for stacking. As each box is shut, it is labeled with a number and the room where it belongs. Then comes the spread sheet (I kid you not!) where we write down the number of the box, the size of the box, the room where the box will be put upon unpacking, what is in the box, and the details of what is in the box. Sounds complicated? Perhaps. But that one extra minute has saved us DAYS (literally, people) of searching for our stuff.
So, there I went, packing boxes, doing the system, taking down furniture (the light stuff. I always save the heaviest things for Brandon), and loading it all into the garage. Brandon flew home Wednesday night (April 2nd) and we spent all of Thursday finishing the final touches. Our truck arrived that morning/afternoon, and we even loaded up some boxes and the mattresses --mostly for an example for those that would be helping us load it up that night.
Thursday night, some great friends took our kids to their house for the evening, Brandon bought the pizza/Gatorade/soda, and we were ready for the men. We had about 10-12 EQ members show up, plus the missionaries, and most of the teacher's quorum (Brandon was over the teachers). The truck was loaded in less than 2 hours --I was the "do this!" and "do that!" person. When the boys (teachers) were slacking, I made them clean my backyard. I was efficient! We were so grateful to all the help we received (thus the pizza and drinks, of course), so thank you so much to all of those who helped us!
That night, we camped out in our rooms on sleeping bags. The next morning was "get-'er-done-day", and so we crammed the last of our stuff into the mini-van (Brandon had already drive his car to Utah, and taken our cat as well, thank goodness!), and took off. Oh! But before we left, I had the house to clean.
Three amazing friends of mine (Janelle, Cristina, and Camellia) came to help me clean the house. We spent 2 hours cleaning like crazy, and we got it pretty much done before our landlady came to inspect the house. I felt kind of sentimental as we were cleaning, though, since just over a year ago, those same three women showed up on my doorstep, ready to help me unpack. I had been in California for approximately 15 hours when they came. And now, here I was, leaving, and those same women were there to help me again. Seriously, I'm surprised I held my emotions inside as well as I did. Thank you, girls. You're the best and I'm really gonna miss you!
Now comes the breakdown, and I mean BREAK. DOWN.
So, there we were, packed in the car, house was empty and clean, kids were antsy-antsy, and I was stressed to the absolute maximum. We had to drop off a few things before we left (stuff for church), and as we pulled up to one house, I noticed that a bag was leaking. Brandon, the good man that he was, had stopped off at this fabulous little Mexican pastry shop to get us (my friends and I) something to eat as a thank you for cleaning. In it was this nice little sample slice of milk cake. Somehow, I had knocked it over, and although it wasn't too much liquid, it was still enough to put a stain on my jacket and a little on the floor of the car. I was overwhelmed as I started to clean it up; Brandon was walking back to the car and said "hey, Cheryl, have you seen that one-thing-that-I-need by chance? Oh, hey! What's leaking?" Not sure how that was the final straw, but holy cow! The crying began.
And I sobbed, and sobbed, and sobbed, and sobbed.
It was an ugly cry, too. One that scared the kids, and Brandon wasn't exactly sure what to do. Luckily for him (and me, and the kids) he had already decided on a nice long lunch at a restaurant, a short 2 hour drive to Merced, and a booking at the Marriott Hotel. I was able to calm myself down enough (after all the stress of the last month finally released itself in huge torrents) to enjoy a great lunch at The Elephant Bar, and a nice drive to Merced. The kids watched movies in the car and I didn't even really mind the traffic. But man, is Modesto ugly-looking! Sorry, but it's true.
Anyway, we checked into our hotel, found an In-N-Out, ate delicious hamburgers (my first in months!), and went to bed early. Ahhhh....
Tomorrow's post will be all about our trip to Yosemite! With pictures! You'll love it!
P.S. Has anybody noticed how bad my writing has gotten? One would think that only two weeks of not writing wouldn't affect it so much, but I think it truly does. I tell my piano students to practice everyday, and now I realize it applies to writing, too. Gosh darn it! First I lose the time to read all of your posts, then I lose my TiVo (which is finally back, hallelujah!), then I lose my mad, mad writing skillz! What is up with this?!