Death by Packing Tape

We moved last week…

(and over the weekend, and during this whole week, and again this weekend)

(it’s a long story)

…and because I am cheap about weird things, I didn’t want to spend a fortune on a tape gun I’d only use once.

(like maybe twenty bucks?)

(see what I mean about weird things?)

It seemed rational at the time because I hadn’t moved in almost 9 years, and why else would I need a tape gun??

So I packed a bazillion boxes by tearing the packing tape with my teeth. Bryan used a pair of scissors, but I didn’t have time for silly accessories to slow me down. I packed WAY more boxes than he did.

At any rate, as I’m winding down the packing-palooza and considering all the packing tape I’ve gotten stuck in my teeth, I was reminded of this very untimely Death by Cheap Envelope Glue, and it had me a little worried.

Is packing tape toxic??

squished like a bunny

Photo Credit

This morning on my way home from the store, a bunny ran into the road a little ways in front of me. I let up on the gas a little to give it time to cross, but it saw me coming and froze in the middle of the road, staring at me.

It was crouched in the bunny version of the fetal position.

I stopped and waited while it gathered its cojones and finished crossing the street, but it made me realize I’m just like that bunny. Squirrels and birds are quick witted enough to get out of the way (most of the time), but in the face of danger that bunny was all, “OHMYGOSHOHMYGOSHOHMYGOSHWHATDOIDOOOOOO?!”

We’re moving two weeks from today, and I need your help. But before you avert your eyes from meeting mine you should know WE HIRED MOVERS, so I don’t need that kind of help. But if you’re one of my peeps and have a few hours to spare on the morning of August 1st, I would love for you to come over.

The overarching category of help I need is HELPING JEN KEEP HER SHIT TOGETHER. Details include:

  • Telling Jen what to do when she is overwhelmed and doesn’t know what to do next, because THE DETAILS! THE DETAILS ARE BLINDING ME.
  • Helping to pack up and gather all the last minute things that didn’t get done by 3am the night before (DETAILS!).
  • Loading smaller and/or fragile things into available cars. Items might include lamps, garden pots, and my underwear drawer.
  • Making sure Jen (and the family, but mostly Jen) is fed. You don’t want to see Low Blood Sugar Jen.
  • Comforting Jen during random outbursts of crying because we’re moving even though the new place is totally awesome.

The movers are scheduled to come after lunch, which gives us the morning to get everything organized for them.

Also, pray for my sanity. Bryan is on a shoot this entire weekend for the Capital Hill Block Party, and he has another shoot the night before we move.




Friday Link Love: The Relocation Edition

Because I have our August relocation on the brain this week, I pulled together a few links in that vein.

Can I Get Your Help?

Bryan wrote a lovely post about our move, and also mentioned specifics re the help we need renting out our house.

Why Technology Is Driving More Urban Renewal

A colleague sent Bryan a link to this article in relation to a project they’re working on. When they bumped into each other the other day, Bryan said, “It’s funny you should mention that article, because we just signed a lease so my family could move into the city.”

Crazy, right?

A Playground Renaissance Arrives At Seattle Parks

Considering we’re moving to the Seattle Center neighborhood, I was very excited to hear of plans for a playground there.

425 in a 206 world

Remember the 646 area code episode of Seinfeld? Back in the day all the native New Yorkers had a 212 area code, so if you ended up with a 646 you were clearly a newbie to the city.

After Elaine’s number got changed to a 646, new guys she met wouldn’t call her!

I think Seattle feels the same passion for its 206 area code, and I’m feeling a little insecure about my 425 number. Will I be taken seriously in this town??

Case in point:

Her: “And we can connect your building security code to a local 206 number and you just buzz people in!”

Me: “What if I have a 425 number?”

Her: “Unfortunately we can’t connect it to a long distance number. It has to be local.”

I felt like Elaine in that video: “But it’s not long distance, it’s just different!”

Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch…

20120710-063833.jpgtop right corner

We sign a lease today – our first lease in ten-ish years. We committed to living here after spending about fifteen minutes inside the condo, which is about how long I spent in my house before deciding to buy it.

Sometimes you just know.

Or at the very least, you don’t want The One to get away.

So in August we move from a home we own to a condo we’re renting, and we’re paying more money to live in less space.

The property manager was very curious about this. “Wait, you own your house?” she asked, looking at my rental application. Under “current landlord” I’d put “me!” and a smiley face.

If I’m going to do something crazy, I might as well use emoticons.


All she said was why. Not Why are you moving, or Why are you renting, or Why are you doing this all bass ackwards?

The way she asked, Why? was shorthand for, What the hell?

Okay not really. She was super nice and most of this conversation took place in my head, but she did ask why we were moving.

“Because we want to live in the city,” I answered. And she seemed content with that.

square footage


Here you can observe the Zugs in our natural habitat.

I am sitting in my favorite chair, updating my grocery list. I have just finished folding the laundry, and the shirts I need to iron have been tossed carelessly over the back of the chair. The kids are playing in the fort they made where they each say no one is allowed yet they are always in there together.

When this much fun can be accomplished in nine square feet, who needs 2,200?

For the past several months I have taken car loads of treasures to the Goodwill for someone else to enjoy – things I’ve been hanging on to just in case. I’ve dumped hundreds of old magazines in the recycling bin and given bags of clothing to friends.

Almost a year ago we moved our bedrooms down to the main floor from upstairs, and for months I never even went up there. With the exception of my office and the laundry room, we’ve basically been living in a 925 square foot space.

So when I stepped into a friend’s loft apartment in Pioneer Square the other night – a loft that was spacious and open and felt bigger than my 925 square feet of divided rooms – I knew right then that we could do this.

Well, maybe not this, as in a loft apartment in Pioneer Square, but we could definitely downsize.

So this is what we are working toward – living with less so we can do more.

stepping through the door

At the State Hotel

“we’re stepping through the door / we’re shooting from the heart / but if we get it wrong / they’ll feed us to the sharks” – Starsailor, Shark Food

In the movie of my life (where I am played by Ellen Page), this song will underscore the climactic visual montage where scenes are cutting into each other and someone is running in slow motion – or crying in slow motion, or shaking a fist at the sky in slow motion – and you know two story lines are about to collide or something is about to explode and you’re on the edge of your seat holding your pee because you don’t want to miss it when —

But seriously. I’ve been playing this song all day.

I know I can be dramatic, but the Zugs are on the cusp of something big. I don’t know what it is exactly, but I do in general, and for the first time in my life I’m okay with not knowing all the details or whether it will all blow up.

Because it could all blow up.

If we get it wrong, they’ll feed us to the sharks.

And we will be glorious shark food.

But here is what we do know:

  • we don’t need all this stuff
  • we don’t need all this space
  • we like to make cool shit

I’ve been walking around in a fist-pumping, barbaric yawp-ing, let’s-do-this-thing kinda mood for awhile, now, but don’t ask me why, or what’s up, or what’s happening because I have no freakin idea.


But there is a door God is calling us to step through, and so we step – even though we don’t exactly know what’s on the other side.

I’ve never been an adrenaline junkie, but when I listen to the building momentum of this song, and I imagine all the possibilities in front of us, and embrace the likelihood of failure – I have to admit it makes me feel a little tingly.