Tale of the Traumatizing Tarp

Or How a Hillbilly Moves in Honolulu.

“Hell when you take the top down, you got a mini-pickup truck.”

Given that The Mathmagician and I own a Mustang convertible, and we’re pretty broke, we decided in lieu of renting a van for our move we’d just make many mini trips. Mobility is an issue with me until I’m able to stop using this damn machine. I will be going strong, but inevitably the thing gets caught on something, which hurts. Like curse in front of your grandma, your papaw and your pastor and your Jesus hurts.  A lot.

Sunday, Monday, and Tuesdays were fundays. Actually, moving wasn’t as horrible as it had been in the past. It probably would’ve been great if either one of us had planned it a little bit better. It was going at such a leisurely rate and then Tuesday, day of reckoning hit. We had to get the rest out and get our part of the apartment inspection-ready. Then it became a high-energy freakout, which was way more what I was used to.  **Sidenote**The landlord charged us $30 because we hadn’t cleaned the blinds…really? reeeeaaaallly?

Everything was going well, until the last ride home. We have a  Queen-sized foam mattress that we had roll up, tied down and shove into the back seat. Then, we found a random silver tarp that we owned (don’t ask why), covered the thing and tied it down. This is in addition to all the items shoved into every perceivable nook and cranny with the Mathmagician sitting in his seat Indian-style  with his legs crossed. His poor hand death-gripped the tarp as we traveled down Pali Highway under the stars. The wind kept trying to give the tarp air and it was a cool winter’s evening.

Sounds lovely, doesn’t it?

Oh, I forgot to mention. The floodgates of hell happened in a deluge that has not been seen since the last time it rained on this damn island. Raining blistering cold winds. The Mathmagician’s seat was so pushed forward that his body actually did NOT get wet. (That would be the magic part of this guy. Everything comes up rose for him.) Meanwhile, my fro is now a “no”, stuck to the side of my head with the really stubborn bits sticking out in sopping bits of sad. Fortunately, the sounds of my teeth chattering were blown away by the  blistering wind. Sounds dramatic, but I was totally cold and wet. I didn’t take any photos, because no one felt like smiling afterwards.

You know what? It was worth it. Somehow we got through it, I think it’s our pioneering West Virginia spirits. We now have our new cozy little apartment by the beach–perfect for writing. Next week I’ll be bringing back the writing tips. And keep your eyes out for some changes on PenPaperPad for the new year.

Oh what did Hawai’i teach me this time? The rain is unpredictable at best, just count on it raining in the winter. And always have a tarp in case of emergencies.

Aloha ya’ll!

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