the bblog

leaping out of the nest and smashing into the ground

I recently moved out of my mother's house, and into my own apartment.

Moving is one of those legendary character building exercises. Presumably, the character that is being built is of someone who rather dislikes moving.

It was also excruciatingly drawn out, occupying pretty much all of December, contemporaneous with both the biyearly inventory at work and Christmas. Pressure from the latter was relived by buying gifts for a whole four people, (Apparently, "moving" is a valid excuse for not buying gifts! I'll have to move more often HA HA JUST KIDDING) and by purchasing my youngest cousins Swiss Army knives, and my next youngest cousin, a prepaid cell phone, which she has been using, near exclusively, to wake me up, and to pretend to be a drug dealer.

Karen, thanks to a series of events that I don't feel like relating, moved out first, vacating the house. Most people move out of their parent's place, but I'm a rebel, so I insisted on the opposite.

I found a place a couple of blocks away from work, right on the other side of I-5, with a quite reasonable monthly rent. Suspiciously reasonable...

Ah ha, there's the catch! A bunch of Catholics had set up shop across the street. No wonder the rent was so low.

These particular Catholics have a habit of ringing bells at the crack of noon on Sundays, when all reasonable people are both hungover, and asleep. This doesn't mix well with the apartment's single-pane windows, (The building was constructed in 1923) which, when doubly combined with the proximity of a six lane freeway, are essentially holes in the wall through which sound may freely pass.

I was less than happy about writing great big checks, but quite excited to be receiving keys in return! So excited that I forgot to reduce the ISO from what appears to be 3200, resulting in a historical photo ruined by a storm of sensor noise. Whoops!

The unit was achingly empty. Aching, that is, to be cluttered up with all my junk! Easily enough accomplished, though not without the cost of some virtuoso whining by the volunteer.

Piling the boxes in a corner, and adding a cheap floor lamp with a not so cheap giant compact fluorescent brightened things up considerably, as seen at the top of the post.

Now I just need a couch. And a coffee table. And a TV. And internet access, that would be nice too.