That's pretty much what it looks like.

Minus the elf.

Minus the elf.

I read that back in the 7th grade. I was looking at androgynous elf sex way back then. I was born to be a buffista.

I miss fireflies.

It's been too cold here for fireflies. I look forward to them more in summer. It's fun to just sit and watch them, try to count the flashes.

We get lots of fireflies here. They are a good thing.

Ah my first real chance to relax today. I have spare time at work due to the having to wait for my computer a lot with my current project, but it's not really relaxing time. I still need to clean the kitchen some, but since my wife just got on me for making too much noise while cleaning, I'm putting that off for a little bit. Besides, with the dizziness, headaches, and nausea, I'm not really feeling like cleaning anyhow.

Wasn't Happy Paris even MORE obnoxious than bitter!Paris?

I like that there are things (the magazine story, the house that Luke covets) that are carrying over for several episodes.

Enjoy the fireflies, Gud, and leave the world behind.

looks around.

Did I just become a Calgon commercial? Do they even have Calgon commercials anymore?

Super art:

[link]

More stuff about the move:

One thing I forgot about the trip home:

I had this notion that when I saw the Arch, I would get all verklempt. St. Louis's most famous landmark, Gateway to the West, iconic image of home, blah blah blee blahdy blah.

Well, the Arch was aesthetically pleasing, I'll give you that. The night was overcast, drizzly, maybe a little foggy, so all one saw were arcs of ghostly light hovering over the riverfront. In theory, breathtaking.

But the thing that got me in the gut was that stupid Anheuser Busch neon sign that's right up against Rte. 40. It's the one that has the full color 'A' with eagle logo, then the red outline of the same, then a neon animation of the eagle flapping its wings. I loved that damned thing as a kid, thought it was the coolest thing ever. So, of course, that's when I choked up.

Friday morning:

I slept reasonably well, and was relieve to find that the cat did not engage in any acts of retaliatory piddling during the night. He did later get into a bit of a staring contest with my dad's two dogs. Fortunately, Millie and Petro are well-behaved and have enough experience with don't-fuck-with-me barn cats to not go charging up to try to play with a strange cat. Jeeves seemed more curious than frightened by the two dogs, which was heartening, since I do hope to get a dog in the not-too-distant future (new next door neighbor #1 is a volunteer at the Humane Society and has three dogs--I halfway expect her to show up at my back door one of these days with a puppy under her trenchcoat, and whispering: "first one's free!")

After breakfast and a visit to Dad's studio to see the latest project (another statue of Lewis & Clark), I pry the cat back into the carrier, and head off to meet Mom at the new house. Mom and stepdad are there and very, very happy to see me. I am happy to see them, but am so fatigued that I make Mt. Rushmore look animated by comparison. Even so, I make a serious effort to ooh and ahh at the pegboard that stepdad has installed in the garage. Yes, I come from a family where pegboard is considered exciting.

The house is bigger than I remember, probably because all the former owner's stuff is no longer there. Even though intellectually I know that my stuff is in an Atlas van somewhere in the Mid Atlantic, it's still a shock to realize that there is No Furniture. No, that's not entirely true. There are two director's chairs, a small end table, and a bench in the sunroom. Also present is an 8' long walnut dining room table that is a housewarming gift from my mom and stepdad. This, I do ooh and ahh over, quite a bit. I also wonder if it is sturdy enough for me to stretch out on top of and take a nap. After a few minutes, Mom and stepdad leave me alone to enjoy my new house. The cat seems to enjoy the place, and doesn't take long to stake out a sunny windowsill.

After wandering around a bit, and mentally arranging my (absent) furniture, I make myself as comfortable as one can in a director's chair, which is not very. So, after making sure that the cat knows damn well where his litterbox is, I head off to mom's house in search of comfy furniture.

Note: My house is only a little more than five miles from Mom's house. I am very, very thankful that Mom is so careful about allowing me my space and my privacy. She would no more think of dropping by unannounced than she would mooning the Queen of England. Actually, if plied with drink and double-dog-dared, she probably would moon the Queen, so forget that analogy.

Things I've decided I really like about this house:

More than one person can be in the kitchen at a time.

I don't have to go up steps to get into my house.

The main entry is through a mudroom, with a door to the outside and a door to the kitchen. This will function as a sort of airlock to keep the cat from escaping. This is a good thing.

Lots and lots of windows, many of which start at only 2 feet above floor level and go up within 6 inches of the ceiling.

An open floor plan with two ways into (continued...)

( continues...) the kitchen.

Edit: I feel like I had to add something at the end, since a two word continuation looked pretty sorry.