What to do, what to say, and movers will cause my untimely death.

Well I have an interest in maintaining this blog, if for no other reason than it is like some sort of online surly diary, the kind you might find shoved between the matress and the box springs of a teenage girl who has just found out that life "isn't all it is cracked up to be" or that "pretty people get it better" or that "there won't be a knight in shining armor because horseback riding is no longer 'cool' so you'd at best you could hold out for a dude with clanky underwear coming down the block to make all your dreams come true" and yes it required quotations because someone out there has said it if only in thier head.

So, in an effort to decide what topics would conduct the source of this "diary" seeing as I am currently no longer in the bright and sunny LA, I shall try to recount the lessons I have learned in life coupled with day to day learnings that come accross my plate. So, lesson 1:
Moving.

Is a bitch.

And will stay a bitch till you die, and then a little after cause you still have to pay people to MOVE YOUR DEAD ASS. How sad is that, that you, in death, owe someone money, for throwing your dead ass in a hole. And so I begin this justification of movers sucking thusly.

When I first moved out to LA I got, what is the term, prostituted, no no... call girled?.... no no no... absolutely f-ing whored, that is it! Bent over and pounded like a tetherball. Speaking of tetherball, whatever happened to that? I loved that game! Exept when you played against someone that would just hit it ass high *CHEAT* and spin in faster than you could hit *CHEAT* and just be taller than you *CHEATING TO THE CORE*. Some kid prolly got tethered to the pole and the parents of the world banned the game. So sad. But yes, pounded like a tetherball.
I had gotten movers that quited me 1200$ for the east to west move. And they said how much it should weigh based on the items I owned and that if it was over, it would be a small amount per pound. 50 cents. And we budgeted for 3500lbs. So I'm thinking we are good. Oh no.

Rule 1: Get a QUOTE that is LOCKED IN. One that is not able to be adjusted. This will most likely require someone to come in and count your stuff but this is worth it, otherwise you will get tetherballed.

So they came in, packed my stuff, then gave me the ol' head shake and the little clucking noise you make by putting your tounge behind your teeth. And they said that according to the estimated size, the new weight (without weighing) should put my amount due at $7000. F THAT! But they could cut me a deal, and work something out before it reached the weight area so that I could avoid paying so much.
Needless to say HOSED. Ended up paying 5k. That's right, nearly a 400% markup.

Rule 2: Alwayse use someone someone else has used before you so you know the tricks.

I had never moved, for all I know the movers are supposed to come in, bang up your stuff, speak only a language I hear when ordering tacos and then overcharge my ass into oblivious leaving me not only penniless but unable to respond as the HAVE ALL MY STUFF.

I have only one term for this. It starts in F- and ends in -ingstupidashell.

Then they drop it off in LA. And as it turned out, my stuff has switched trucks several times.

RULE 3: Make sure they use the same damned truck, cause if they don't someone somewhere won't give a damn about using your box of family hierlooms as a seat while their fat ass takes a lunchbreak.

So we get our stuff, and shit is broken. And when I say broken, I don't mean a few broken glasses (though there were, very nice wedding glasses. Only glasses broken too. I swear they check for the most important looking box before playing kick the can with my stuff), I mean I had a desk BROKEN IN HALF. And for some reason they didn't seem to have a problem with delivering TWO HALVES OF A DESK to me. TWO HALVES. How in the hell??? TWO HALVES. I have no other words to express myself. My mental dictionary is failing me. TWO .... HALVES. My property is not to be treated like some sort of sandwich to be divied up for ease of eating at a later date! Nor are those items to which I am attached like a lego castle to be broken down and remade for my own amusement.

And so we filed for insurance. My insurance company denied me because it falls oh so pleasantly between all the cracks. The closest they could get was vandalism, but that didn't work cause I paid them. So, what do we learn? Don't pay! Like that wouldn't bite me in the ass.
Then the movers insurance did not pay out either. We filed all the paperwork and we get a notice back saying "Please supply a professional assesment and estimate for all repairs to broken items to recieve further effort on our part." How much to fix? TWO HALVES. And I would love to see what god among men could fix a shattered glass. "Well I could glue some of it together and it would leak just a little."
Stab everyone in the face!

So that is still underway. Then.... and this is the fun part. We moved BACK.

Well this time around it wasn't so bad. For starters A) I wasn't sick. That made it hell the first time around cause everyone was a little fuzzy and a hell of a lot more annoying. And B) the wife was around. I frankly suck at making decisions and she is the bossy one. She's the one who does the whole *snap snap* "No you didn't just say that about my momma" who would have saved us a boatload the first time around unlike me who was so easily persuaded by broken english describing how I magically owe 400% of the bill.
But like I said, she got us the movers Mayflower. And they were pretty good. They came in, (only two of them, black dude and mexican dude, I think they strive for diversity) and worked diligently, albeit slow, and we were good to go for 3K, fixed rate this time, no surprises.
Then we crossed the US (this will be another entry) and much fun was had.
And when we arrived we tried calling to see where they were, and was that the biggest pain in the ass. No one knew where anyone was or anything and from what I had gathered our movers were off having the time of thier lives galavanting across Texas. And, and theis is alwayse fun, the movers are supposed to call 24hrs in advance. So we try out damnest to be ready for them. And the one minute we are away, who shows up on our doorstep unnanounced? Jesus, F-er came out of nowhere, blessing left and right and leaves before we get back. Alwyase happens that way. Then the movers showed up while we were out, and it was a pain. So we rush back, get our stuff, and all in all it wasn't so bad except the fat guy who takes his lunches on our fragile boxes was apparently on that truck as well, but luckily we packed better this time.
SIDE NOTE ADVICE: Costco has this wonderful movers package of boxes that is ideal for any move, except you have to be consumed by retardation to use it. The boxes are honestly made out of recycled toilet paper with about the same strength as something that has not only touched ass but suffered the whole sewage system of the greater Manhattan area. DON'T BUY THIS. Uhaul has a similar package that is ok, we ended up getting our boxes there cause they have this bangin "Give a box get a box" recycle moving boxes section of thier store, much like that whole give a penny take a penny thing where everyone just takes all the pennies. And what did we do? We took all the boxes. And my pocketbook was happy.

But all in all, squished boxes and everything, this move was much better. The black guy and white guy (again the equal diversity employment) who dropped our stuff off were very polite and, yes this may sound a little racist, SPOKE ENGLISH. I didn't even get an english guy dropping the first load off in LA, he was French! Really? You crossed the ocean and left France to seek your fortune in America and you became a Mover?

But anyway, stuff is here, in-tact so far, trip was nice, all in place except employment but I figure I could alwayse whore myself out seeing as I've gotten such practice with this moving situation.

And away I go!