We rose early on Black Friday so that we could beat the crowds to Target, where we bought some tape, bubble wrap, and 9 large Tupperware tubs for our stuff. Next up was the grad school building where I emptied out my old locker. It was strange walking through those deserted halls and looking at the evidence of the life I might have lived had I had the money to continue the program. As it was, I was an outsider looking in.

Next up was U-Haul for the Big Box Purchase. At this point, Pittsburgh had decided to grace this part of our move with fairly heavy rain � thanks, Steeltown. (grrrrrr.) Once we had made sense of the dizzying array of choices and made our box purchases, we dragged the boxes out in the rain and tried to load them into the car.

This was when our grievous logic error was exposed. We had come straight from Target so we still had a huge stack of Tupperware tubs to contend with. Furthermore, despite the �Wide Trax� designation, the rental proved just narrow enough to prevent the wardrobe boxes we had purchased (the most expensive of the lot) from fitting. We eventually gave up and brought the bent boxes back in, asking the manager to keep them until I sent my family with The Minivan to pick them up later.

Having lost valuable time in our little shove-cardboard-into-the-car-in-the-pouring-rain show, which was really worthy of silent movie treatment in its slapstick nature, we rushed home only to find that a group of contractors had begun to set up scaffolding outside the building, and one of them had taken our parking space. Grrrrrr. Hunter went and tracked them down and asked them to leave (go Hunter!)

For two hours we rushed to pack (making sure to pack the alcohol first so that it wasn�t a tempting �conversation piece� for my forever-sober parents) before leaving for lunch. It had come to our attention a few weeks prior that a dear old friend from improv, Max, would be in town with his wife at the same time that we were � and despite the fact that both couples were crazy busy, we managed to clear out Friday for lunch together.

It was even nicer than expected (which is quite a lot!) to see such friendly faces again, especially since we hadn�t seen any friends since arriving in Pittsburgh (and we would not manage any more time to do so before leaving.) We dined at Uncle Sam�s, a local submarine joint, and we talked about pretty much everything. In an amazing coincidence, it turns out that the very city we now live in happens to be Max�s wife�s hometown. Her parents still live here, just a few miles from where we are. She can faithfully describe the city and its layout, and she was delighted to hear that we shop at the same Safeway as her parents. She gave us advice about the local theatre scene and which companies to pursue. Such an amazingly small world sometimes!

What this means for us in the short term is that we will be able to see much of the two of them whenever they come out to California to see her family (the next such occasion being in April). In the long term, Hunt and I will be keeping an eye out for jobs that might work for them. How wonderful that would be to have everyone in the same city! Strangely enough, it seems we will have no want for visitors from the East despite our location out here, so far away from everyone. This makes me very happy. I love looking forward to the many varied visits we have to look forward to in the next six months.

We swapped stories with Max and Robyn about our cross-country trip and their work and our work and the like until my parents called and said they were at the apartment, and where were we? Thus we took a very friendly leave, with many hugs standing in the rain, and went our separate ways, thus commencing the 20 Hours of Crazy Ass Packing.

I had underestimated the effect that all four of my family members would have upon the apartment. They were in a boisterous mood, and set up shop in the den where they began assembling boxes for us. They immediately determined that we had not purchased enough boxes (despite filling the car to the breaking point) and Doug and Dad ran out for more. They bought an extra 5 wardrobe boxes, which seemed absurd at the time, and several more dishpacks.

The rest of the afternoon was pretty straightforward: we packed. Doug would wander about the apartment, making jokes and picking things up and generally being silly. He and Hunter were getting along amazingly, as always. When they weren�t wandering around, Doug and Kyle were on their respective laptops (!) playing games.

Mom and Dad made short work of the living room and the kitchen, and the boxes really began to start piling up.At 6 they suggested we go out to dinner. �Do you think Eat �n� Park or Guillifty�s is better on a Friday night?� Apparently, my facial expression at the suggestion of Eat �n� Park was something pretty noticeable, because Hunter burst out laughing. No matter how hard I try, I can�t seem to convince my parents that Eat �n� Park is a BAD restaurant. Just look at the name. It�s the place you go as a last resort, when nothing else is open. Not when your parents come bounding into town.

So we went to Guillifty�s, and my family continued their boisterous mood. I don�t know if someone gassed them with nitrous or what, but they were certainly an easy audience.

By the end of the evening, the box situation was starting to look pretty grim. My parents were worried we wouldn�t have enough to get by, but I assured them we�d manage somehow. They took their leave of us at about 10:30 � they had done all they could, and that was quite a lot. I am genuinely indebted to them for a) showing up, b) being so productive, and c) acting as if they were all mentally stable. We are much obliged to them.

Before they walked out of the hallway, though, I stopped them. �Hunter! Did you talk to them about the plant?�

We had two plants, an ivy and a rubber plant, before we moved to CA. We sort of forgot about them in the rush [we wouldn�t have been able to bring them into the state anyhow.] When I returned in August, they were (understandably) both in pretty sore shape. I watered them as best I could and hoped they might pull through. Apparently, by the time Hunter returned in October, the ivy was long gone, but the rubber plant � named �Gummo� � was still alive. He again watered it and hoped it would survive.

When we returned to move, Gummo was in a very pathetic state. He had three twigs, two of them bare, and one sporting a few yellowed leaves and one green one. Poor, poor Gummo. I felt so bad. Hunter�s had him forever. There was no way we could get Gummo into California, so we had to let him die or find a home for him. We had mentioned asking my parents to take him in.

�So we have this plant and we can�t take it to California and we were sort of wondering if you could adopt him, and he�s in pretty bad shape but we promise he�s alive.�

My parents agreed, and asked if he could survive a night in the car. I ran to get Gummo and wrapped a blue bag around his pot to keep him from spilling.

With an oversized bag wrapped around him and his 2 bare twigs, Gummo looked pathetically similar to Charlie Brown�s Christmas tree. It actually made me cry to hand him over in such a state. All we needed was Linus speaking the story of Christmas in the background.

My parents said they�d take him into the hotel for the night, and that they�d take care of him. Thus I parted with my parents, leaving them with hugs, kisses, and one very sad little rubber plant. Good luck, Gummo.

As they walked to the car, Hunter said: "Next time you see your parents, tell them that if Gummo looks dead, he's not. He's a trooper."