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The best thing we can do is to make wherever we're lost in look as much like home as we can
Well, that was a success.
I slept a little under three hours, including the half-hour nap between eleven and eleven-thirty. At which time I had not expected to be in a position to keel over onto![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
derspatchel's bed at Hall Ave., but Wednesday morning is street-cleaning day is Somerville. I did not know because I do not have a car. Rob did not remember because he hasn't had a car in ten years. Between the hours of eight and twelve, no vehicles are allowed on the street. Moving vans included. They showed up at ten of nine, came upstairs to look at our stuff, went downstairs to start loading it, got yelled at by a meter maid, and drove away. Here's the happy ending, though: they came back a few minutes after noon and moved all of our stuff to the new address in less than half the time they'd originally estimated. We still have some assorted boxes, fragile objects, and foodstuffs to move, but not boxes of books, not desks and chairs, not futons. Not Doppel-Abbie, who is now surveying the living room.
We won't have internet until Friday at the earliest, because Comcast can't send out a technician until Tuesday; the best they can do for us before then is stick a modem in the mail. (This is even a thing?) Until then, I expect to be checking e-mail and LJ etc. at distant intervals in coffeeshops or other people's houses. And mostly using it to work on my job, since I will really need to remain employed if I want to meet Comcast's asking price. (We had hoped just to switch over Rob's RCN account, but the new street isn't wired for it. WHY IS THE WORLD NOT FULL OF FREE INTERNET I ASK YOU.) That reminds me that my next project after moving is to find a better job than the one I have now, but first I need to get through the cleaning/unpacking/breathing stage and incidentally this concert. Come hear me sing two short German art songs on Sunday. They're very different from one another and I am desperately praying I'll be able to sleep before then.
The website doesn't reflect it yet, but I have been sent photographic evidence that my remembrance of Dr. Fiveash is now in print in this week's Lexington Colonial Times as part of a full-page spread in his memory. The whole thing is titled "Ave atque Vale," which is correct. Catullus ghosts everyone. I read that poem first with Dr. Fiveash, too.
I really hope Tanglefoot gets off the ground, because that is some of the funniest physical comedy I have ever seen on a page. Of course I'd read the adventures of Izzy Perizene. "His talents include creditor evasion, landlord-dodging, fast talk and slow dancing." Go on, twist my arm.
We have an apartment. And we are living in it. Slightly provisionally at the moment, but nonetheless. I have switched my keys from their paperclip to my keyring and we've thrown out our first trash (a terrifyingly cat-damaged bolster formerly on top of the window seat, which opens rather deeply; I have named it Mr. Spinalzo) in the place. We'll sleep there tonight and if street noise wakes us in the morning, it'll be different street noise.
And we're calling it the Mystery Shack. For reasons. But Rob will tell you about that later.
I slept a little under three hours, including the half-hour nap between eleven and eleven-thirty. At which time I had not expected to be in a position to keel over onto
derspatchel's bed at Hall Ave., but Wednesday morning is street-cleaning day is Somerville. I did not know because I do not have a car. Rob did not remember because he hasn't had a car in ten years. Between the hours of eight and twelve, no vehicles are allowed on the street. Moving vans included. They showed up at ten of nine, came upstairs to look at our stuff, went downstairs to start loading it, got yelled at by a meter maid, and drove away. Here's the happy ending, though: they came back a few minutes after noon and moved all of our stuff to the new address in less than half the time they'd originally estimated. We still have some assorted boxes, fragile objects, and foodstuffs to move, but not boxes of books, not desks and chairs, not futons. Not Doppel-Abbie, who is now surveying the living room.We won't have internet until Friday at the earliest, because Comcast can't send out a technician until Tuesday; the best they can do for us before then is stick a modem in the mail. (This is even a thing?) Until then, I expect to be checking e-mail and LJ etc. at distant intervals in coffeeshops or other people's houses. And mostly using it to work on my job, since I will really need to remain employed if I want to meet Comcast's asking price. (We had hoped just to switch over Rob's RCN account, but the new street isn't wired for it. WHY IS THE WORLD NOT FULL OF FREE INTERNET I ASK YOU.) That reminds me that my next project after moving is to find a better job than the one I have now, but first I need to get through the cleaning/unpacking/breathing stage and incidentally this concert. Come hear me sing two short German art songs on Sunday. They're very different from one another and I am desperately praying I'll be able to sleep before then.
The website doesn't reflect it yet, but I have been sent photographic evidence that my remembrance of Dr. Fiveash is now in print in this week's Lexington Colonial Times as part of a full-page spread in his memory. The whole thing is titled "Ave atque Vale," which is correct. Catullus ghosts everyone. I read that poem first with Dr. Fiveash, too.
I really hope Tanglefoot gets off the ground, because that is some of the funniest physical comedy I have ever seen on a page. Of course I'd read the adventures of Izzy Perizene. "His talents include creditor evasion, landlord-dodging, fast talk and slow dancing." Go on, twist my arm.
We have an apartment. And we are living in it. Slightly provisionally at the moment, but nonetheless. I have switched my keys from their paperclip to my keyring and we've thrown out our first trash (a terrifyingly cat-damaged bolster formerly on top of the window seat, which opens rather deeply; I have named it Mr. Spinalzo) in the place. We'll sleep there tonight and if street noise wakes us in the morning, it'll be different street noise.
And we're calling it the Mystery Shack. For reasons. But Rob will tell you about that later.
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We were really, really glad.
Thank you!
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Well, we called RCN and gave them our street address and they said it was impossible: there wasn't even a wire on the street for the technician to hook us up to. So we thanked them and hung up and made a deal with Comcast. We're stuck with them for at least a month.
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Excellent!!
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Thank you! We are happy.
(And tired.)
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may your boxes unpack themselves, and the books are residing on the shelving you have, and that its all good.
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Thank you! At the moment all is still boxes, but we trust that so it shall not always be.
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http://singtocurems.org/2013/program.shtml
It will be a good concert! People should go to it!
(Also, congrats on having a place.)
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Link is now fixed. I haven't been on LJ in two days.
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Thank you!
My mother brought us bread and salt for our first night. And also, because we didn't have any in the house yet, soap.
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Thank you!
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I'm glad your remembrance is proven to be in print.
Tanglefoot looks delightful--interesting to see an artist with a personal style that seems based in classic mid-20th century cartooning, if I remember my vernacular art chronology at all correctly. I add my hopes for it to your own.
I wish you great good luck with the internet access and all the rest of it. May the concert go very well.
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Thank you! Still no internet. Boxes everywhere.
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Thank you! We very definitely didn't bring a broom, so I think we're safe on that front. Vacuum cleaners don't pose the same kind of problem, right?
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To sweep the dust behind the door.
The spirit of the honey travels with the desk.
Be happy.
Nine
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Thank you. I think we will.
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Thank you.
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I ought to send you all the sleep I will be losing this weekend by dint of being at Ohio Valley Filk Festival, where my average go-to-bed-time is 2 a.m. so that you can be well rested to sing on Sunday. I hope it goes really well!
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Thank you! Once we get through this weekend, there will be epic unpacking.
I hope it goes really well!
Thanks! Have a wonderful time with Ohio Valley filk!
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Absolutely! I just don't think it exists yet—the print version of the paper arrived at my parents' house sometime on Friday.