fortunate son

After a long process I found a home by July of this year. The building has its quirks but the neighborhood is completely what I sought. I have two rooms, a kitchen, a hall and a bathroom. For me, this is more than enough.

In the next few days I will attempt, and probably succeed, to get my little possessions down here. There is a bed I have missed dearly for eight months and books I can't wait to see happily shelved in my hall.

More than anything though is the "difference" of this move. It feels so settling. I don't intend to rent this place forever by any means, but there is something about getting where I was going.

There is also this incredible feeling of support for this move. I once had a night sleeping alone in a moving van somewhere in Delaware, I cried. This time some very generous people are making things so very lovely that I am actually looking forward to it.

One of these people made me an apple pie on my thirtieth birthday and wrote my name on it. I've missed him a lot and he's making me a moving pie.

Speaking of my thirtieth birthday, a friend made me a beautiful necklace which I have worn countless times since. I hope to see her at some point while I am in Albany for the day.

When I was carless and couldn't get home at Christmas, a friend took me out to his family's house for dinner. He's told me I am not allowed to worry about this nonsense, and he and his father are lending a hand. That whole "lending a hand" business is a huge understatement.

My roommate from China has been a wonderful help, she just so happens to be moving to DC and is splitting the stifling truck and gas costs with me.

Basically, I feel really lucky to have friends who love me. I've done this dance alone enough to know how good it feels to have more support than my shadow and a couple greasy dudes off craigslist.

It means the world to me. And the world is very large, after all.