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I have a new apartment.

It's rather a mess at the moment - most of what I saw of it was covered in mounds of dirty dishes, booze bottles and laundry scattered around (well, two "dudes" live up there, and they're not into cleaning). However, the first bedroom has a window, and overlooks a pretty plaza and garden area outside - I'll finally have a window to open at night during the spring and fall. The second bedroom is smaller but not that cramped, and will make a beautiful office. The bathroom HAS A BATHTUB OMG!!111!ELEVENTYONE! and it also has a large closet that could one day house a stackable washer-dryer unit (the manager said he'd see if the landlord will give me the go-ahead to get one). The oven is the size of an EZ-Bake toy, and it's filthy beyond all belief, but I asked for a new one and the manager said he'd make sure I got it. Very small living room, with some weird wall configurations that are going to put all my creative decorative sooper-powers to task, but I'll make it work. Besides, weird is good - it gives the place character. The kitchen has more counter and cupboard space than all my previous kitchens combined. The manager thinks I should tear the larger built-in counter/table section down, but it's the perfect place to set up my sewing machine - finally, I'll have room to start sewing and doing "projecty" stuff again.

Most important: it's quiet. No one around me for three sides, and the only place my apartment butts up against another one is in the bathroom area, where the walls are so thick, you can't hear a thing. And there are windows in every room - I'll have sunlight and air everywhere. Quiet and light. Finally.

I'll be moving either the 1st of February or the 15th - hopefully I'll find out asap. In the meantime, I have tons of books to pack, and thousands of words to write. But that's fine. I'm very very happy. I think I've finally found my home.

ELEVENTYONE!!!1!

Marine Autumn

I owe you marine autumn
With dankness at its roots
and fog like a grape
and the graceful sun of the country;
and the silent space
in which sorrows lose themselves
and only the bright crown
of joy comes to the surface.

--Pablo Neruda.


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