We are no longer �bicoastal�. We don�t live in Pittsburgh anymore.

And tomorrow, when December begins, we�ll be back down to a measly two apartments [hopefully one by the end of the week when we officially break our lease.]

We knew this weekend was going to be crap, so it didn�t come as a surprise that it was, indeed, crap. It came as a surprise that parts of it turned out to be more or less painless. But as with most things that happen to Hunter and I, it warranted the singing of the line from the Rankin/Bass animated version of the Hobbit that Hunter loves so dearly:

�It was the greeeeeaaaaaatessssssst advennntuuure, that they�d eeeevvveeeerrrr known�.

You know, with all of that crazy Rankin/Bass vibrato that makes kids think that the characters in Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer are actually evil shapeshifting sheep.

Right. Anyway. On we go.

Wednesday

Not technically part of our trip, but it�s good for background so you�ll get a quickie.

I spent most of the day writing career text for SimSequel, as I had a deadline looming that meant that I couldn�t leave until this crap was finished. I�m glad to be writing text and getting credit as a real writer [my third grade teacher Mrs. Tickel would certainly be proud] but DAMN is it annoying when everyone else at work is playing videogames and you�re trying to come up with a clever way to invoke �Iron Chef� without pissing off the lawyers.

But I also spent a good portion of the day making futile little efforts to be more prepared. Both Hunter and I had been getting more and more anxious about The Move as time went on � this is something I�ve been dreading ever since we got word that we�d be interning for SimCompany in the first place. You just sort of knew � and sort of hoped � that this would be the end result.

I printed out tons of Mapquest directions, I gathered all of the moving faxes and paperwork, I gathered addresses. But I also did something else, something risky.

I accepted an offer of help from my parents.

Mom had emailed me on Saturday and offered to drive out to Pittsburgh to help us pack. I know it seems like a harmless request, but there were a few fear-inspiring factors:

• I have not seen any members of my family since May.

• I have not seen or spoken to my father since the death threats and the suicide scares.
• Some of Dad�s worst hissy fits have been associated with moving.

So there was a big unknown lurking in the friendliness of the request. Still, I KNEW we had overextended ourselves by proposing to pack the entire apartment in about 36 hours, and I knew that I�d be foolish not to accept the offer.

At first, Hunter didn�t think we needed them, but he left it up to me. Reason won out over emotion � and after checking up with my mother to make sure that Dad wasn�t running around with a gun or otherwise being unstable, I asked them to come out and help us.

Wedneday night, Hunter and I celebrated our anniversary. Technically, the official date is November 23rd, the date of our first kiss, but we had both been blindsided by busy schedules so that the month just flew by. Hunter asked me on AIM on Tuesday if I would join him for a nice dinner to celebrate our anniversary � I had completely forgotten.

So once I managed to get done with that forsaken text (about 8:30) we went to the P.F. Chang�s that is two blocks from our condo (we�ve been talking about eating there for a long while) and had a nice dinner together. Good food, too. It was lovely. Then we went home and after a brief cuddle, both of us set our alarms for ungodly hours and fell asleep.

Thursday

No Thanksgiving for YOU!

We woke up early, early, early � like 3 AM � because we had realized that BART wasn�t running early enough for a 7AM flight, so we�d have to drive into the city. (dum da DUM!!!) When we wake up in the AM, inevitably we both feel nauseous. The stress did not help. We packed the bare minimum � neither of us brought more clothes than what we were wearing � and we headed out.

Traffic was mercifully light, and it was dry although quite cold outside. We checked in for our flight and managed to use those spiffy e-ticket kiosks to get Hunter the seat next to me.

The US Airways terminal at SFO is pathetic. It looks so dated, and there are a number of gates that aren�t being used at all � the chairs have all been removed so that the only way you can tell they were gates once is by the numbered doors and podiums. Also, there is apparently only one shop that sells breakfast items in that terminal, and it had a ridiculously long line [and steep prices, natch.]

The flight itself was painful � crying children abounded since it's a family holiday, and we were both sorely under-rested and highly anxious about the task that lay ahead of us. We did the best we could to get some rest despite the wailing. I spent a good deal of time trying to follow the crappy in-flight movie (Freaky Friday) without headphones. I also tried to avoid the jealousy that stemmed from seeing all of these people headed to happy times with their families while we were headed to a highly stressful and exhausting weekend of dreadful moving. Both of us had what had become second nature � morning sickness. 5 long hours later, we landed in Pittsburgh.

It�s always strange to see that familiar airport again. It changes slightly when you aren�t looking so that it seems somehow unfamiliar. We hadn�t checked any bags, so we made our way down to the rental car agencies downstairs. We made a conscious decision not to eat at the airport � we�d pick something up on the way home.

Renting the car was an interesting bit. I had held the rental with my credit card , and we first began to set it up with me as the primary driver. Then we realized that, since I grew up in Spoiled White Girl territory (home of the three-ply facial tissues and vast tracts of retail parking lots) I had never been taught how to parallel park. This does not work well in cities. So we started to set it up for two drivers. Then we realized that I had no insurance of my own and that I was piggybacking on Hunter�s plan, so we cut me out of the rental car driving thing entirely.

I have to say, that was one patient rental clerk, all while she was working on Thanksgiving Day. Cheers to you, nameless lady.

Unfortunately, renting the car was an inordinately expensive affair, since we�re both �underage� and it was Thankgiving and all. The total with insurance and underage fees came to a little over 400 dollars for 4 days. It was ridiculous, but it was the lowest price for a rental we could get at a company that would even CONSIDER renting to 23-year olds.

It was at least exciting to be renting a car for the first time, since it�s really the last �privilege� that one can get before the dubious �privilege� of retirement (and running for President if you�re into that sort of thing.) The �compact� car we were given was a Pontiac Grand Prix �Wide Trax� [read: �I�m almost as wide as an SUV�] that only had 24 miles on it. It was rife with new car smell, and it rode much nicer than Hunter�s aging but dependable old Jetta.

We began to make our way home, and as we drove through Downtown Pittsburgh we realized the error of our dining ways. Even McDonalds was closed. There would be no Thanksgiving dinner for us. We decided to check if Target was open, because we wanted to buy some big Rubbermaid containers for packing. While Target was indeed closed, we saw something that made it worth the trip � a glorious Boston Market with lights on and cars in the lot. Hallelujiah!

Hunter and I had discussed the subject of dinner a few days prior, and Hunter had decried the potential of Boston Market as �depressing� when I jokingly suggested it as a Thankgiving supplier. Oh, how he was wrong! In the drive thru, they had an ad for a �Family Feast� � a whole chicken, 3 sides, cornbread, and brownies for $15.99. We immediately ordered one and gleefully received a huge paper sack with a Thanksgiving dinner that was amply sized for the two of us. (Incidentally, while we were waiting, we watched some employee take a vat of fat and pour it into a Dumpster. Charming.)

We finished off the drive home and ascended to our apartment, where I immediately recalled the B*re N*ked L*dies song I used to sing at the top of my lungs.

�Welcome to the old apartment... This is where we used to live.�

Strange it was to enter the old apartment, now dusty and cold from abandonment. It was �home� � it had all of our stuff, all of our memories from the past year � but it wasn�t home anymore. We were detached, and it was clear that the apartment was already a shell of its former self.

We set up our dinner on the coffee table and put a Pokemon tape in the remaining VCR as we celebrated a very modest, very private Thanksgiving. After a leisurely dinner, we started packing � but without boxes, there was very little to do. Several times, we just wandered out into the living room and sat, occasionally crying while cuddling with each other. This weekend marked the end of our time at school and our college life. It was hard coming to terms with that, and coming to terms with leaving the apartment and the memories that we loved so dearly. (Continues in Part Two...)