So… I moved!

Okay, I’ve been living with my family forever, and now I don’t. That’s the short version.

Once upon a time, on a Friday in late April 2008, my Aunt Mandy needed to attend a memorial service in Upstate NY. She flew in from California and an order was handed down from the top, to transport her and her belongings from JFK Airport to the drop-off  point, otherwise known as Monroe, NY. It wasn’t as militaristic as it sounds, though. If I had a Hummer perhaps the whole thing would’ve fit into the military perspective that I have just dreamed up a bit better. Alas, it doesn’t. And it won’t.

There is she, and I, on the bed at the end (or the beginning?) of the Hollywood Walk of Fame in 2003.

Anyway, I had followed out my orders, only going AWOL for 15 minutes for Starbucks. Starbucks is a necessity to these Californian types (even the transplanted types who become quickly assimilated into the Californian regime), and I don’t mind it all too much myself, either. See, people from California have trouble doing normal everyday things like speaking, breathing, and using ordinary motor skills to coordinate their movement and body-language without Starbucks in their bloodstream. This was a must.

My mission carried on, (and my girlfriend, Jenny, was with us at the time, too.. because I know she’s reading this and wondering where the hell she comes in!), and I was able to safely transport 1 unit of Aunt the next 35 miles or so from the rest-stop to Monroe. I met with her family, or most of it, engaged in some conversation, had some iced tea, a few cigarettes, and pet the dog before almost leaving with Mandy’s bags in the trunk of my car. That would’ve been funny. It wasn’t. It didn’t happen. She got her bags before I left.

On the way home, Jenny was telling me what a beautiful place New York was, past the metro area, and that she’d love to live up there some day. I agreed. Jenny and I came home, had a good trip, gave thanks and praise to every toll-booth operator along the route, without even receiving a smile in return, and spent the rest of the day looking at apartments in the Monroe area.

That day turned into the next 2 days, and before we knew it Monday had arrived and we were headed back up to retrieve the Aunt unit code-named “Mandy”.

Long story short, we met some more family, had some more cigarettes, pet another dog (was there a dog?.. I think there was another dog), had some potato chips, and journeyed onwards to the Monroe Diner to join the family in a last get-together for some lunch. I had a bacon cheeseburger which was enormous, and Jenny had a mushroom burger. I believe Mandy had breakfast….. Yeah, I think that was it.

We had our food, exchanged some more words and pleasantries, ordered black forest cheesecake that was raspberry instead, and we were on our way back home.

As we got in the car, Jenny decided it would be a good idea to look at apartments and cottages in the area, just out of curiosity. We picked the first one in the paper and called up the guy (later to be known as “George”) and he gave us some directions, and told us he’d meet us there.

So we….. drove in circles before I actually decided to listen to Mandy about where I should go and which road I should take, I fussed with the navigation because I could, and we somehow got onto 208 and ended up at a little stretch of road called Clove Road or CR-27.

Clove road started off normal, and then drove and drove and drove thru open grassland (an abandoned country club), some welfare housing (probably crackhousing and shooting galleries), and some nice homes. We came to a fork in the road to what is now known to me as “The Paved Road”. – Mountain Lodge Road. We actually passed it, or made a full circle, or something, because we didn’t make a direct approach… but we did end up on Mountain Lodge Road at some point, and we took it to Laurel Trail which I thought was an absolutely insane, pothole ridden, never-looked after, gravel road, with no gravel left on it. This was okay, sort-of.

My ears were filled with laughter and cries of comedy as I traversed over these horrible roads with my BMW, bottoming out here and there, on this crappy rainy day. Apparently Jenny and Mandy thought it was hilarious. We ended up on another trail which was 5x worse, and passed the trail where we were supposed to go, and ended up near another trail which….. was on top of a huge hill, where I tried to make a U-Turn.. (Dangerous.. but I succeeded), and came back around to what is today, the trail we live on. (Does that all make sense? It does.. just read it slowly if you don’t get it.)

At once, I pulled into the driveway of this place, and exited my vehicle. It looked “interesting”. It  looked… clean.. and it looked.. very BARE.  No grass, no flowers, just dirt and slate and white paint.

George came down and met with us, and showed us around the place. He didn’t look impressed, and didn’t think we’d want the place. You know, having a BMW and relocating from Long Island… just isn’t the usual modus operandi around Mt. Lodge Park.

Well, we looked around and left $50 to take the place. I thought it was a bit humorous to leave $50… but it was all we had. We had no plans on actually getting a place that day, or at any point in the coming weeks. But we did!

…to be continued