I can’t believe 2008 is already over, mostly because when I look back on the year, I remember it as being as a great one in the life of Martin Lieberman.
Three big things happened: I bought a condo, my niece was born, and I got a new job. All three were huge, life-changing events.
I mean, my niece being born … yeah. But the condo purchase came after more than six years of living in the same place, and the new job came after more than seven years with the same company.
So I guess there’s very good reason for some of my friends to be calling 2008 “The Year of Martin.” Continue reading
I’m not really sure how I totally forgot about this clip, given what happened with the move on Saturday and all, but better a few days later than never. This is one of my all-time favorite scenes from Friends, and minus annoying Ross, it’s pretty similar to what happened when we tried to get my couch into my new apartment. Enjoy.
If there’s one thing I learned this weekend during the move, it’s that I, Martin Lieberman, am quite good with the spatial relations.
You see, all was going pretty well Saturday morning. Other than some early-morning mist, the rain mostly held off. The elevator in my building was on the fritz, but somehow it worked until the last load had been brought down, and then it died.
The movers got to me a little bit later than expected, but it gave me some extra time to take care of some last-minute packing I didn’t do the night before. So it was all good.
But when we got to my new place and started to unload the truck, my couch wouldn’t fit through the apartment door. The movers tried multiple ways of fitting it through the door, but none worked because the doorway was too thin, the stairway was in the way, and the sprinkler system was inches too low from the ceiling.
They were giving up, and the couch was going to have to go down in my storage unit; I would have to buy a new one. Continue reading
One last post before I pack up my computer here at 110 Babcock — or simply “The ‘Cock,” as someone called it last night. The apartment is pretty empty; other than furniture and books, most everything else has been moved to my new place. As expected, packing has been a fun experience; I’ve found all kinds of stuff I hadn’t seen since I moved in (old photos, a bag full of Louis, etc.) and taking a week to move in gradually before the actual movers came has turned out to be a great idea.
After more than six years in one place, it’ll be a real adjustment to have my life centered elsewhere, but I’ll be fine (of course). There’s a lot I’ll miss about this building (the location, mostly), but in the end, I’m very happy to be moving on (thank you, violin players and noisy, insensitive neighbors and price-gouging management company). In fact, it gives me immense pleasure to know that I’ll be going out with a bang — my movers are scheduled to arrive at 8 a.m. tomorrow. Now, you know how I feel about noise on Saturday mornings when I’m trying to sleep late. But after all these months of tolerating the violins and the flutes and the pianos and the loud talking and smoking outside my window and the late-night phone calls next door and the smelly cooking and all the shoes left in the hallway and the rude neighbors who don’t hold the door open when you’re right behind them and the heavy-footed upstairs neighbors and the folks who park their minivan next to me and don’t know how to open doors without hitting my car and the side doors being propped open, etc. etc. etc., it only seems right that I disturb my neighbors for a change. So, goodbye 110. I’ll miss you. (But not too much.)
It’s been a week since I bought my condo and I’m somewhere between halfway and two-thirds of the way moved in. I’ve been packing up and making daily trips over, dropping off breakable and easily-movable items — partly to make it easier for the movers (who come early Saturday morning) and cheaper for me, and partly because I just can’t wait to live there full-time. All my CDs, most of my clothes, just about my entire kitchen and bathroom … it’s all there. I’ve run the dishwasher a few times, I’ve done one load of laundry, and I’ve even done some cleaning. In short, I’m doing everything all according to plan and so far it’s working out just fine.
There’s lots to like about my condo, but I have to say, one of my favorite things about it is the boiler room. Yes, you read that right. You see, I bought a place in an older building that’s been rehabbed, refurbished, redone, etc. All the amenities are modern and new and clean. And yet, in the boiler room there’s a pretty cool bit of history on one wall, where all kinds of former residents wrote their names. Some of them dated their signature, and the years go as far back as the 1930s and ’40s. The most recent date I saw was 1987. And being a sucker for nostalgia and stuff like this, I just find the signatures give the building a lot of random, hidden, unexpected charm. It’s really impressive that over the years, and despite extensive renovation, these names have remained on the wall. Perhaps it’s because I’m not alone in appreciating this aspect of the building. One day I’ll have to sign my own name on one of the bricks. For now, though, I am eager to share in the history of this place I’ll soon call my home.
I’ve had an ad up on Craigslist for a couple days now, but I thought I’d link to it here because I’m hoping there’s a reader out there who will want one of the items. I’m selling my kitchen table and chairs, desk and chair, and kitchen cart, and I’m hoping to do so before the weekend. Prices and sizes and other details (including pictures) can be found here. Please let me know if you’re interested. Thanks.