tavie.com

I'm tired and dirty and very happy. Thanks to the help of some very good friends, MUCH was accomplished this weekend:

We got Pena moved into her new place. Mostly, Gina and Moose and Squirrel did. Gina hurt herself a bit while moving the tv. It's not a move unless Gina gets hurt.

We found that the super-popular pizza place by Tante Joan's house that I've never been to has a branch in Hoboken. Gina and I ate there two nights in a row. The pizza is fucking exquisite.

My room is 3/4 unpacked. My bed is put together. I can't quite finish until after the plumber looks in my closet to make sure the drip-drip sound I sometimes hear doesn't end up collapsing the ceiling in there. Which means the closet has to be empty. So not totally unpacked. But almost there. All my books are unpacked, and that's the major element.

I found the deli Goose recommended (it was closed, but now I know where it is.)

DirectTV was installed. The sheep was mounted at the head of the stairs, partly to cover the disgusting alien-guts cable doo-dad bringing the tv to our rooms.

Most exciting: I bought a new mattress. I'm luxuriating upon it right now, on my newly-put-together bed. (No more sleeping on the floor!) It's the most expensive thing I've ever bought for myself and it is very, very comfy.

The weekend was not without its misadventures; I broke my key in the door and our neighbor, Adam, had to let me in; G. banged her wrist up pretty good; worst of all, our little gargoyle scared the living wits out of us today - she disappeared, and we thought she'd escaped through the front door or deck door when we weren't looking. It was raining out and Gina freaked the fuck out; she knocked on all the neighbors' doors and I even made a poster to hang. Just as I was getting my rainboots on to go join Gina in combing the neighborhood, the little brat sauntered out into our hallway from god-knows-where (I suspect she was in the storage closet under the stairs) as if nothing had happened. Why she chose to ignore our cries, pleas, treat-shaking and food-opening will be forever a mystery, the answer buried deep in the blackness of her own, coal-black little cat heart.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 7:44 PM | shower me with attention