Moving madness

We're in the midst of the ultimate moving madness, accompanied by the madness preceding Christmas in all capitalist countries.

We've put most of our furniture up on an auction and got some decent bids on it. Our bed was picked up by a nice young couple and our cubbies went to a very nice fellow, who told us that we were a godsend as he really needed the storage space and couldn't afford to buy new furniture. We're still waiting to hear back from the people who won the auctions for our computer desks, but I have a feeling that those will get picked up soon as well. (Unlike our coat rack that went up to a ridiculous 55 dollars, even though it was originally bought for 20. The guy is simply ignoring my e-mails. Not all Estonians are great bidders.)

My parents helped us move by transporting most of our things to the town of Kuressaare for storage. We sent the last batch of random and unnecessary items off today, so we're left with only our computers, some pieces of furniture, and an inflatable mattress on the floor. The computer speakers are gone as well, so we're left with no means of audible entertainment, or television (as our 20-year old mute tv set is entirely dependent on the broken VCR we rigged up to funnel the audio from our cable connection, and the vcr used to be connected to the speaker system). That's alright though, TV's not that great this season. Of course, I'm only saying this because I want to prove to myself that I can live without all the wonderful and fun seasonal entertainment that's designed to trick you into thinking that all is still well with the world.

So the plan is to work until Tuesday, party it down with the coworkers Tuesday night, and then move to Saaremaa for the holidays on Wednesday.

Our "last Saturday in Tallinn" turned out to be a blast, even though we had to cut it down on the drinking, due to the utterly ingenious 9 a.m. moving date the next morning. It's kind of sad how I don't get to see my best friends until I threaten them that I will be leaving. Great times though, complete with beer, tequila, spicy food, moaning about how we all work too much, agreeing that we will all work less and enjoy life more, dancing to top eighties hits at a raunchy artists' club, dodging old people looking for sex, hugging, and breaking down in tears of sadness and joy. I love my friends.

I should cut this short because I have to play Santa for a while, before Mike gets back from geeking out with one of the Estonian gearslut friends.