2007-09-06

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I still can't quite wrap my pea-brain around the fact that this marvelous place -- in which everything is new, clean and functioning -- is WHERE I LIVE. I look around my giant Roman Orgy Bathroom and think, "When do I have to go home?"

And the STOVE....my God. I want to straddle and hump it seven ways to Sunday. It has this, like, LIGHT in it? That you can turn on and off? To see if your cookies be done an' shit? Amazing. You don't understand (or, at least, those of you who were never in our old place don't understand) -- our old stove looked like a prop on the "Sanford and Son" set. I had to be McGyver with the kitchen chair-holding-the-door-closed in order to bake anything. That whole kitchen was something out of a Faulkner novel, and I am not exaggerating in the LEAST.

People keep asking me to post pictures. I'm not doing any such thing until the place is entirely unpacked. You cannot appreciate the splendor of this dwelling while there are still Office Depot boxes and tools all over the place. Well, you CAN, but that would require your coming over and standing in my porn shower (which, as Nettie pointed out, must needs be pronounced PAWN SHOWAH), where I recently discovered that I can ADJUST THE WATER PRESSURE. I can have a nice, gentle, trickling shower. Or (and this is what I generally prefer) I can be hammered and pummelled to within an inch of my life. Oh God yes.

And besides which, I don't know where we packed the camera.

One problem I've encountered -- our dangerous proximity to Canto 6. I am going to get all kinds of fat living here if I don't watch myself. It's kind of like when I was still drinking and I'd try to talk myself OUT of going to the liquor store on the whole walk down there. "I don't need an apple nougat tart. I don't need to be doing this. Oh, hell...I'm already here. I may as well buy one." Pretty soon I'll be smuggling them home and hiding them in the hamper.

lisamcc at 8:03 a.m.

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