I was aware of her blog for ages, but I didn’t meet her until we were both guests at a Shabbat dinner. After that, Rob and I both became good friends with her (and interviewing friends is such a delicious treat for me!) so we had a time in the studio.

I spaced on taking a photo of her (life is hard, yo, and I can’t keep on top of everything!) plus we interviewed at night and I like to take my photos outside, so she sent me a cute photo of her at her wedding. I love the sleeved gown!

Here, because I still don’t have a photo of her, I used a photo of Oliver, her dog. He’s cute.

Here are some of my favorites:

The parties. All of them! There were too many to count, and a lot that just kinda came together last minute. We rocked it out almost every month, and I got to know so many cool people who were friends of friends that later became friends of my own.

November 4, 2008, 11:00pm and the hours that followed. Never, ever, ever will I forget the air in the streets that night, hugging neighbors, slapping high fives and crying like crazy, overjoyed people. I know it was similar in other parts of Brooklyn, but I don’t think it was as vibrant, as meaningful, as in a poor black neighborhood. I don’t care what you think of Barack Obama: it was an amazing day for black people (and, really, it was an amazing day for everyone who hates racism).

Sitting in the tiny front entry way bundled in my coat with Bra the cat curled in my lap purring like crazy, happy to have somewhere warm to put his paws.

Fried chicken! Horrible, greasy, sketchy fried chicken, right down the block.

The look of sadness on my old-lady neighbor’s face when she saw us bringing our final boxes to the car. “You’re leaving us?” she said, and Rob said, “Yeah, we are.” “Awww.” she said, crestfallen, and I felt bad, which is saying a lot.

Time to move forward, though! Here we go. Park Slope. Tiny apartment. Laundromats. Vibrant neighborhood. Excellent shopping. John Hodgman as a neighbor!

Happy August.

*This is the fourth place Rob and I have lived together in almost as many years. WHO DOES THAT?

One of the things we did early was put our bookshelves in the empty apartment and fill them.  By “we” I mean Eric.  The wall they are on is drywall over brick, and I said to Rob, “There is no way we are tackling this ourselves.

If you ask nicely he’ll wear his tool belt while working (you know, for the ladies who are into that sort of thing) and he gives a discount if he can bring his dog.

Thanks, Eric!

It doesn’t feel like home yet, and I wonder if it ever will. It’s very small here, and it’s clear that we will have to move eventually. Not just because of the space issue, either; the landlord actually told our real estate agent, “Three dogs is no problem, but NO KIDS!” It’s quite nice for now, though.

Stu! came over Saturday with champagne and cupcakes to celebrate the new place, and we spent the afternoon with me shirking unpacking responsibilities to show off the new neighborhood and slowly but surely convince her to become my cup-of-sugar neighbor.

Thank you to Effed In Park Slope for the Twitter welcome! This 4-part-series of videos they did of the local Target explains, to a level I don’t have the ability to blog about, why I feel like I’m descending into the seventh ring of Hell when I go.

*Apparently the really rich people leave their homes and go away for a few weeks and people come and pack them up and move them. Then they come back from vacation to a newly set up home somewhere else!

We painted every white wall first with “risky” colors that I hoped I would come to love, and having the ugly trim paired with my freshly painted walls that I wasn’t quite sure about threw me off into believing the entire place was a disaster. I was so upset thinking that I was going to live in the UGLIEST! APARTMENT! EVER! and that I spent money for paint and worked hard painting for that privilege. (It would be one thing if the apartment was ugly through no fault of my own, but to actually make it ugly? Unbearable.) Now, though, with a few coats of America’s favorite paint color, Navajo White, the ugly trim is gone, replaced by crispy colored trim that gives the entire apartment a fresh, modern feeling. It’s downright beautiful if I do say so myself!

We’re half-way there getting the trim done; the ugly color is so deep it requires two coats of Navajo White, and is so extensive – every room, every doorway – that I’m going to be super busy painting it all before moving day Thursday. I’m listening to Pygmy by Chuck Palahniuk while I’m doing it, which helps pass the time better than music.

I’ll be back in a few days, posting from Park Slope!

_____

*Oh, it was bad. The worst was that my friends tried to talk me out of it, even as they were painting it, and I was all, “No, no! It’s gonna be great!” and I loved it for about three seconds, and then I was devastated and had to paint over it.

I hope they fall in love.