Moving Day (aka I Can’t Believe He Still Wanted To Be My Boyfriend)

So it’s no secret I think Clyde is my hero because he comes swooping down to save me when something goes awry with my car. Oh! Guess what? I got my AAA card in the mail! Hooray! Of course, he still said “But you should call me first” before he went into a lecture about the benefits of having a AAA card. I love my geek. ๐Ÿ™‚

Okay, back to the story I originally wanted to tell before I forget.

About two weeks into having a brand spanking new boyfriend (this was late January 2010), my living situation went into a tailspin. I must’ve seen every single apartment there was to see within my budget. It wasn’t until I was pounding pavement with my mom in Ktown (yes, Ktown) did I FINALLY find an apartment that had everything I was looking for.

I thought that was the hard part since, in my head, I didn’t have that much stuff in the room I was renting. Clyde wasn’t as convinced. I remember he asked me on more than one occasion if I was making any progress with packing.

“Of course I am, babe! It’s so easy! I don’t have that much stuff! In fact, I cleared out over 50% of my closet and I donated everything! I’m not taking furniture with me so it’s just clothes and shoes and books! Easy!”

I was so wrong. I hadn’t realized how much stuff I had accumulated in the 10 years I was living in that tiny, cramped room. I amazed myself with how much crap I had managed to stuff in there. I swear, it was like a black hole had decided to vomit back out everything it had sucked in and my room was the toilet it chose for this purpose.

I was so sad. I also started to panic. So what did I do? Yup. You guessed it. I called in the big guns – Clyde.

Clyde had told me many times by this point that he was a veteran of moving. He helped friends move a million bajillion times in addition to moving himself around the country and back. I moved from LA -> Hawaii -> changed apartments in Hawaii twice -> Torrance -> Alhambra. That was it. I never move so I had no idea just how f***ing hard this really was! Dammit!!


:: Oh baby, if I was your lady / I will make you happy
I’m never gonna leave / Never gonna leave
Oh baby, I will be your lady / I am going crazy for you::
That’s what I wanted to tell him the day he told me he thinks I should be his girlfriend.

Clyde comes over one night and surveys the destruction of my room. Keep in mind, I had a couple boxes already packed and, to me, I thought I was almost done. So wrong.

He immediately put me to work by just throwing things in boxes (“Just throw everything in boxes, babe. You can sort it out in your new apartment. Right now, you just need to get stuff packed. Come on. Let’s go.”), he would tape them up (I didn’t know how to do that right. * sigh *) and carry them off to our cars.

It took 4 trips total with both our cars packed to the gills before I had finished moving all my junk. Wtf. I still have no idea when and where I got all so much stuff! Crazy….

My furniture didn’t arrive yet so we slept on a full sized aerobed. Not a queen size, mind you. A full size. For two grown adults. I don’t know how we didn’t either push each other off or fall off ourselves. I didn’t even have paper plates. Clyde had to buy me pots and pans, my silverware and a set of plates/bowls/cups. He said they were my housewarming gift and he couldn’t stand the thought of me trying to eat my meals without tools because I’d be eating it like an animal, not as a person.

That made me cry a little because I couldn’t believe how thoughtful my boyfriend was/is. Tell me I didn’t pick a winner.

Anyway, I’ve never forgotten the Epic Exodus because, at that time, I really thought “Oh shit….this is the end of the relationship. Well, it was great while it lasted” because, honestly, who would put up with ALL OF THIS with a girl they just met a few weeks ago and started dating about 14 days ago?

He put up all the doo-dads around my new apartment. He assembled all of my stuff and was even prepared to assemble all my new furniture. I didn’t know the people who delivered it would assemble it for me. Neither did he…but he came over anyway with all his power tools and giant box of man stuff (more tools with names I don’t know. I think there was a hammer in there).

The entire time he was doing all this for me, (oh yeah, there was a graveyard of dead cockroaches under the sink. I freaked out even though they were all dead and he had to clean it out for me. ….ahahaha….poor guy…), I kind of hovered over his shoulder and offered him glasses of water.

I felt so useless. I couldn’t understand why he was still here when he did all this stuff for me and all I could do was tell him how thankful I am, how amazing I think he is and would he like me to bring him more water. I fell asleep counting my lucky stars every night for this wonderful man.


NO ONE looks this fucking happy when moving.
This picture would be more accurate if she looked dirty, frazzled and maniacal.

Fast forward a year and now we’re engaged. HUZZAH!!!! He’s never getting rid of me now!!

What was I saying? Oh, yeah. So now we’re engaged and we must’ve seen something on TV about moving because Clyde starts telling me stories about moving. He told me how many times he’s helped people move and had to move himself around. He got kind of quiet and so I thought he was reminiscing about our first crazy days together.

The next thing I know, he blurts out something to the extent of “I’ve helped so many people move and I can honestly say, your situation was the worst ever!” I was about to cry. Basically, I was the least organized, least prepared and most overly optimistic about my skills as packer-and-mover.

I think he saw the crestfallen look on my face because I truly and honestly thought my n00b ass was doing a good job and I really did try. I just didn’t have as much experience with moving and didn’t appreciate just how big of an ordeal it really was.

That’s when he said something I’ll never forget. Had I been anyone else, he would’ve come back only after they had all their shit together, neatly boxed and ready to go. But because I am me and he liked me so much even back then, he stuck around through the entire process and basically moved me into my new place…and then set everything up…and bought my bookcase and set that up….and bought my dishes / pot / frying pan / utensils / cups.

I thought about it for a little while, felt lots better and realized how lucky I really am. I think I really did hit the jackpot with Clyde because I know he didn’t expect to pack his new girlfriend’s entire life for her into boxes and carry it into her new place but he did it anyway for me.

So that’s the story of how Clyde let me know he really liked me and cared for me.

Oh. I forgot one thing. He also helped my family clean out our garage. Before you start thinking this was some roll in the hay compared to singlehandedly moving me into a new apartment, know that our garage was flooded and all the crap in there was damaged by water. There was stuff growing on and in those boxes that I’m sure mankind has never seen before. Clyde helped us clear it all out.

Tell me my man doesn’t rock. I can’t believe he not only still wanted to be my boyfriend but he got it into his head that he wants to marry me.

JACKPOT! NOTHING BUT NET!! AND ONE!! TOUCHDOWN!! GOOOAAAALLL!!!! HOMERUN!

I win. ๐Ÿ™‚

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Comments
2 Responses to “Moving Day (aka I Can’t Believe He Still Wanted To Be My Boyfriend)”
  1. jin says:

    Shit after all that I’d marry him, or at least put out.

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