Yes, this is a place people live. We were built into the back corner of a business building, and the weirdness of its locale insured no boys selling newspaper subscriptions ever stopped by. Or trick or treaters.
Thanks for the good times. It's weird to leave the only place me and Jon have known as a couple, and the place where I learned to be independent. I was able to leave my apartment this week with happy memories and a little sadness, probably because we left before it became a literal oven. I'm going to miss this weird little place, with it's 50 year old plumbing fixtures, wavy glass panes, glass doorknobs, and the impossibility for any visitors to find it. I won't miss the leaky faucets, the mouse who had the last word the night before we moved (in the form of poop in our bed--I know, that's gross and probably an overshare), or the lack of insulation and pirate neighbors. I found myself thinking about moving in after being married for 3 weeks, and the magic of having our own place and starting this whole chapter of our lives, completely blind with a truck full of furniture and a goldfish. And now we're starting a whole new chapter, with a truck full of furniture and a collection of random musical instruments. (hopefully a new puppy, too!). I'm being really nostalgic and I'm sorry about that, it hasn't been until this second that I've realized how much I'm going to miss that place.
Now we're off to Europe for three weeks, and I'm feeling excited and completely clueless. I'll try to check in, but there may be a lull in posts for a bit. Next, on to Portland with a little bit of Boise thrown in between. Which is never bad.