Yeah, that’s right.  Feast your eyes on some grade-A, 1995-era clip art.

Dudes. It happened. We’re moving.

It was a frustrating process of the real estate agent rooting for us (and the dogs) to the old, barely-speaking-English landlord. His big concern about us (I kid you not, this is verbatim) was that we would have loud parties in the back yard until 5 in the morning. I was like, “Dude, we’re moving away from exactly that.”

Our official move-in is on the 15th of July, but we’re going to get the keys before so we can clean and paint (there’s a painted blue stripe around EVERY door way and EVERY window that I just… don’t understand!) The movers are here on the 16th.

The studio is also going to move on the 15th to it’s new home downtown, and we’re moving the stuff that won’t fit into the new, smaller apartment to the basement of my grandma’s on the 21st.

This is one of the apartments that was taken away by heart-breaking circumstances, and to tell the truth I’m still not 100% on it. We said we wanted it and thought we would get it, but then the landlord’s relative needed a place and he was going to give it to them. They backed out suddenly, and we were back in the running. We met to sign the lease on Sunday and he found out we weren’t taking the apartment on the first of the month, so he was like, “I dunno about those two!” My agent told me not to worry, he’d come around by Monday, but of course I worried anyway. He took a day to “think about us” and then said, “Ok”, but he still hasn’t signed the lease (he was “busy today”) and I watch enough People’s Court to know not to bother getting excited until he does. But I was told he said yes, and my agent has a good relationship with him, so I trust her. I am thinking-as-if, I am visualizing the signed lease, (I am full of shit and I know it…)

Also! My name is legally changed as of Monday morning! The judge called me in to his chambers and made sure I was an upstanding citizen, not trying to dodge bill collectors or commit fraud, and that I wasn’t a sex offender. I’m now fine-tuning my tour of Connecticut bureaucratic offices this week, you know, while I’m packing and moving the studio and trying to clean and paint a new apartment and deciding what should come and what should go into storage and shopping for new drapes and a new rug for the bedroom floor because, by the way, did I mention that the bedroom floor of this new apartment is LINOLEUM?

This is going to be fun.