Moving is complete. All the work and cleaning and packing and stressing is finally over, and last night I sat on the couch with my lap desk (oh, lap desk, how I've missed you) and Flickr'd my pictures from the weekend, happy to finally have a little time to myself. I handed in the keys last night, and am looking forward to the celebratory dinner later this week.
Many of you (okay, just Carrie) pointed out the lack of content last week. We regret to point out that this will be the second sequential Weekend Recap, but that is all changing this week. We are at the tail end of many projects, and after a solid, back-breaking few days, we are in the home stretch. The apartment sale went quite well, thanks in part to some work folks and their friends. Much appreciated, and your time and effort made my job much easier yesterday. That said, MOVING IS HARD AND TAKES FOREVER!!! Even when you think you're almost done, you're not. I have half the day off today to finish up, and CAN'T WAIT until I get home tonight, finished, after turning in the keys and such. I will post pics of the sale, the gutted condo and the insane layer of dust on EVERY ITEM WE OWN. (I'll also attempt to use fewer uppercase words.)
Saturday: Tremont Art-Walky Street Festival (with a name I should remember)
Coolest sidewalk chalk guy
Karen ate while I watched and took pictures
Karen loved the bee part
I love the stones painting so much, I took three pictures of it. On the third, a man approached me and asked if they came out nice, to which I responded something similar to 'pretty good' while I fumbled with my camera. I didn't realize he was the artist until we had walked away from each other, and I don't know the etiquette at an art show... Is it considered rude or stealing to photograph someone's work? If so, Mr. Stones Painter, it was my favorite, and had I realized that it was you asking me about the photograph, I'd likely have answered that I loved it so much I wanted to take a piece home for free. (Which, I suppose, answers my ethical photograh dilemma, and not in my favor)
This morning we went to five bookstores, in a quest to quench my David Foster Wallace thirst. We didn't find Infnite Jest, but I got two others, and a few booklights and a bookmark and another novel and I might just be a little drunk on new books. And, while I learn all about lobsters, Karen's doing this
So the painful task of packing up and cleaning the old apartment is still in progress. I have piles and piles of things that I either A:) haven't used since the last time I moved them, B:) have never used, C:) couldn't fit into if my life depended on it (big and small) D:) can't seem to part with because (insert relative's name here) gave it to me as a gift. It's amazing to me just how much stuff I actually own. So, I'm digging in, working on finishing, pretending not to procrastinate three hours at a time. And, I noticed something yesterday -- I don't really mind doing it. It's not FUN, per se, but it's not unbearable. (I will deny saying that if pressed.)
Okay, I'm off to plug away a bit more. If you want anything that I might find in the old apartment, comment away!!! (Carrie, the double-boiler is SO yours...)
For those of you not familiar with Infinite Jest or A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again, this commencement speech is just a glimpse at David Foster Wallace's work. He died over the weekend, and I'll be reading him over again this week.
Double boilers are basically a double pot, that can be used for making chocolate, candles, or anything you don't want to put direct heat on. You heat the water below, and that gently warms the item on top. I have little use for a double-boiler, since I don't make chocolate or candles. Ruthanne didn't have much use for it either, which is how I inherited it. But, upon hearing that I had one, Carrie got all excited, and questioned how I could have one and not use it. I promised to ship it to her, and that was probably four years ago. It's been a running joke ever since, and when I finally get around to sending it, you should probably be on the lookout for flying pigs. (Just kidding, Carrie... you should get it soon. blink. blink, blink. )
In addition to the many things we already have planned (Dad's birthday dinner, game night with the Winters, game day with the fam) I'd also like to do the following:
Go to breakfast one day, order breakfast in one day.
Go somewhere unexpected and take a walk, maybe some pics.
Watch the twelve hours of crap TV we have DVR'd.
Grab a Sunday NY Times (or a book, or my laptop) and go to the new bookstore/wine place around the corner. (I'd also love to shake the hand of the person who invented the bookstore/wine shop. Well done, good chap. Well done.)
Mail the double-boiler to Carrie. (Mrrrppphhhtt. I can't even keep a straight face.)
People who read this blog, and then tip off other people about the midnight intruder's plans better beware. You never know when the Midnight Intruder will get ahold of your 'Miles of Men' shirts... Or something...
(I mean, thank you for your loyal readership)
And, if any of you haven't tried olives stuffed with garlic, run out and buy them tonight. Insanely delicious.
Stephen King was offered a job writing about sports. He explained that he didn't know much about sports, and was told 'These are games people understand when they're watching them drunk in bars. You'll learn if you try.'
Cracks me up. And gives me some hope for learning sports. ;)
I was informed at my appointment that I hadn't been in since January of 2005. That's not such a long time, right? I called because I have a tooth or two that are sensitive when I brush. I had nightmares that my teeth were falling out (can you say 'dream drama queen?') Turns out, I only have a little minor gum recession on the left side. They put some stuff on it, shined the fancy dentists' UV light on it and I was on my way. Of course, in that three years, I also developed a 'very small cavity' in one tooth, and they want to replace the old metal filling in another, but it could've been much worse. Perhaps I'm not THAT afraid of doctors and dentists...
We watched an old Atwood video yesterday, full of Blue and Jet Skiing, family boat rides and old birthday videos. You said it was strange to think of my life before you. I know that feeling; I felt it watching the San Francisco video... It's a kind of blind jealousy, that somehow, I missed something you really liked. I want all your memories to be with me. I know that what we learned before we knew each other helps us now, and that, certainly, without my previous life, my life with you wouldn't seem so sweet. So, remember when that feeling grabs your stomach, that you are the only memories that are clear now.