Moving on Up

For the most part, every move I've ever made has been to somewhere better.  As I grew up, I went from whay my family lovingly called "the crack house" (where we lived when I was around 2-3) to "the big blue house" and "the house in Orange Tree," etc.  And for the most part, every new place has been better.  Even now, living sort of on my own, I'm still experiencing that.  I'm currently in the middle of moving, and even though my new place is a little smaller, I don't have to deal with the same petty roommate issues like in my last place.  So in many ways, it feels so much better.

(Man I want to rant about roommate bullshit so much right now, but I feel wrong burdening you--maybe later then.)

So far I've got everything I need.  There are a couple things I want, like more bookshelves (apparently 3 isn't enough), a coffee table, etc, but I've got all the basics of personal happiness--my very well stocked kitchen (hoo-ray for families), my comfy sheets, my tora.   I expect all should go well.  I've even started decorating a little.  Most of the boxes are still packed, and I've started decorating.  But hey, it makes me like the place that much more because I'm able to express myself in more than just my corner of my room.  I'll load pictures soon, my homage to Don Quixote makes me smile in a special way.

 The view from my balcony before they cut my tree.