Back In 1987

Moving Day

Sighing to myself as I continue my near-continuous flicking between songs on my "Oldies" playlist till I came to "Last Waltz" by Engelbert Humperdinck, my favourite song besides "I Don't Want To Set The World On Fire" by The Ink Spots. I could listen to these songs for the rest of my life and still not be tired of the gentle melody. Humming and tapping my black nailed fingers along to the tune as I passed the welcome sign. 

"Welcome to Santa Cruz, Mazi." Smiling as I look through the mirror at my snoozing dog.

I once read that Santa Carla was based on Santa Cruz. I went on a bender after watching 1987 Lost Boys and became slightly obsessed with the four boys and their vampiric nature. The slight thought of the said movie, even a fact that was related to said film sent a shiver down my spine. Not really the fear of what once was considered horror but more so of the pure joy I had for the movie and teenage lust for the boys. 

These thoughts made the time fly a lot faster as I needed my new home to be, an old yellow Victorian styled beach house that was built in 1913, nearing almost 6mil to buy. My grandma left it to me in her will when she passed two years ago, and I haven't been back since the week after she passed. The old house needed repairs before it was considered safe to live in. Most of which were by my standards. However, the pipes needed a change and along with an update on the heating and Air conditioning. Pulling into the driveway of the old yellow house was, I don't know how to put it, exciting yet upsetting as well.

Putting my jeep in park and turning off the vehicle sent Mazi into a glowing ball of furry terror, being stuck in the jeep for hours, I can see why she'd be so excited. Closing my door and pulling hers open, grabbing her leash and unbooking her from her seat belt, was a tad hard being that Mazi likes to go for the neck when she licks, getting slobber on my glasses making it hard to see and trying to get her out of the jeep took the better part of a few minutes, before she was off trying to drag me to the grass for her to lie down. 

"Mazi, come on.." a few good tugs on her leash got some of her attention. "I need to unpack, and you need to go to the backyard." My Scottish accent poked through as I got more annoyed with her stubbornness.

The struggle of trying to convince an Olde English Bulldog more stubborn than a bull, no pun intended, let's just say after five minutes I ended up with the new struggle of picking her up and trying to unlock the front door. 

Stepping onto the newly refurbished wooden floors, shined and splinter-free, I let Mazi off her leash letting her run around our new home, her paws echoing throughout the house as she took to every inch of the first floor and opened doors. 

Toeing off my black ballet slippers and kicking them next to the front door, placing my keys on an end table nearby as I walked throughout making sure each box labelled for a specific room was placed in said room before heading back to the jeep to unload the few boxes to fragile or sentimental to trust to the movers. Placing the box on the floor next to the door.

By the time I got to my house, got Mazi outside, unpacking the jeep, and unpacking most if not all of the boxes that were moved and delivered beforehand, the sun had long set, and it was nearly 8 pm. Mazi was long since passed out on the floor after spenders about 2 hours running around out in the backyard and eating her dinner. My stomach was growling for food before I passed out on the floor. 

My bed frame wasn't assembled yet, and my mattress was against the wall, I was not in the mood to try and move the king-sized bed. 

Putting Mazi in her kennel before I headed out for boardwalk food. Not my first choice but it was within walking distance, and I'm not particularly keen on leaving Mazi alone in a new place. 

Staring into the mirror, taking in my dishevelled appearance. Long, thick red hair just above my hips tangled into a barely presentable braid from the rush this morning. Vibrant and big green eyes, covered behind my thick circle glasses, freckled pasty skin, so pale that it could cause snow blindness to those unfortunate enough to see the bare skin, currently covered behind a dull green oversized sweater and black leggings. 

Slipping on a pair of black ballet slippers before grabbing my house keys, and locking the door behind me. Walking down the path that was attached to the side near the house, leading me to the stairs that lead down to the beach, and from the beach, it was barely even a 3-minute walk. The boardwalk was just as busy as I thought the nightlife would bring tourists and locals crowding the boardwalk, making it a tad hard to navigate around. 

Stepping onto the wooden panels that made the stairs to the actual boardwalk, a sudden headache began to throb, making me slightly sick. The more I walked and the deeper I tracked within the sea of people, the more nausea I felt, the more my growing headache brought sharp pains.