2002-03-26 - 4:30 p.m.

On the internal soundtrack: "Something to Talk About", Bonnie Raitt.

Well, rather than me not journaling because I am out and about exploring my new city, instead I haven't been journaling because work was absolute hell last week, and I was in Virginia from Thursday through Saturday, and Saturday was packing hell, and Sunday there was a seven-hour family Easter party at my mom's. Everyone was there except my brother (in Syracuse watching the NCAA championships -- FLOOR SEATS) and my cousin Billy, who had to work.

The seven-hour party felt too short, and I did not want to leave. I don't understand how that happens. My mom says we need to get the ENTIRE family to have a week at the beach together. That might do it. A week is probably impossible, but a weekend might work.

My father, miracle of miracles, has bought himself an HDTV. We were floored. Jaw-droppingly astonished.

My dad is the kind of person whose technological standards are impossibly high. He doesn't want "good enough"; he wants "perfect". It took something like five years before an HDTV came out that was even marginally acceptable, and then he was waiting for prices to drop, and then they improved the technology some more so he had to wait again for prices to drop, etc. We had given up that he would ever actually buy one.

Well, he did, and my GOD, WOW. He had on some travel/nature show on PBS when we arrived at the house and it was like looking out the window at the scenery. It was astounding. Watching movies at my parents house -- he has a surround-sound system that meets his impossible standards too -- just got VERY exciting. Just in time for our move, too. :)

Poindexter and I arrived at my parents' house at almost precisely 1pm, the start of the party. My grandfather always used to show up exactly on time like that (everyone else shows up whenever they feel like it). It made me smile to think of it.

So, I have no Life In The Big City adventures to share with you just yet. I do, however, I have a picture of a building I saw on a recent walk that I like a great deal; I'll show you that. I hate Art Deco art, but man do I love the buildings, although I think this is an unusually ornate example:

So, studio living has so far been remarkably easy. As I showed you in the last entry, it's pretty roomy.

We just brought up another truckload of stuff this weekend, including the contents of our refrigerator and pantry, and we still have not run out of room yet. This is due, in no small part, to Poindexter's superior packing/organizing skills. As he said this weekend,

"If anybody wants to know why you married me, tell them, Because he can pack a storage space like nobody's fucking business."

I haven't been down there to see it, but he managed to cram our living room (including piano), dining room, guest room, most of the kitchen items plus the table, and god knows how many boxes into a 10x15 space. Unbelievable.

So far the only annoying aspect of the studio -- and only minorly so -- is the tiny kitchen. We actually cooked two dishes last week, and it was comical to see plates and bowls with fixins (broccoli, chicken, green onion, garlic, red peppers) scattered all over the bed. It's the only place to put them. Next time we do this I'll take a photo.

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