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.

Yesterday I did a little bit of yoga using the Wii Fit. It’s easy to dismiss video game exercise as fluffy at best, but it’s a legit workout, and I was feeling it, and loving it, and vowing to do it more often, even though twice I fell over completely. (Matty was watching me, curious, the entire time, and I think my toppling over both concerned and amused him. He came over to lick my face while I was in a heap on the floor, and I swear he was chuckling to himself as he did.)

Today I woke up with cramps from the workout, and then the OTHER kind of cramps, too, right on top of them, which just isn’t fair.
We didn’t get up until 12:30 this afternoon, and today’s episode of Hey Brooklyn is WAY late getting put out.
This week our hearts have gotten broken twice over two different apartments that we came super close to renting, only to have them whisked away by different circumstances.

I am very happy to call this week DONE! Have an awesome weekend.

Rob found studio space in a professional building. It’s reasonable! Heck! It’s cheap! We are both so excited.

Three apartments are in heavy consideration with different major pros and cons to each of them. I’m thinking about doing a list of pros and cons on a legal pad like they always did in 80′s sitcoms.

She’s one of those “Let’s go let’s get it done, no nonsense, Let me tell you how it is” kind of ladies. You know the kind. Every church and temple has one, every ladies group has one, every office has one. She’s friendly, and she does things quickly.

She is a real estate agent who called me back to tell me that two dogs would be fine but THREE, the owner said, was too many. She sighed. “I have two dogs myself. I know where you’re coming from. He doesn’t get it.”

“They’re small!” I said. “They sleep a lot! We’ll pay an extra deposit for them, too! We’re homeowners! We know about wanting to keep your rental nice.”

“What? Do you own a home up in Connecticut?” she asked. How she knew I have no idea.

“We own two! Trust me, we’re responsible people!”

“I’m going to call him back and tell him that. He should consider you. You know?”

“I know!”

“Amber, I like you!” she said. “I’ll be in touch.”

I have a feeling she’s going to win this argument.