Last Saturday, a lovely warm spring day by any account, I moved from my old apartment where I had lived since April of 2005 into my new apartment in Greenpoint. From Williamsburg to Greenpoint. Maybe that’s what I’ll call my memoirs one day. It’s good to have a title in mind all the time, I think.
With the selfless help of Mike Fiduk, Jesse Allen, and Señor Roberto Caruso, we drove all my stuff a mile and a half and deftly moved everything inside. Moving is a painful process, but with the help of my friends it was quick and efficient. With an unexpected assist from Richie, the 82 year old gentleman who lives on the ground floor of my building, we were finished by about 1 o’clock. I bought the fellows some beers and sandwiches and went to deliver the truck on Dekalb Avenue. I left Jesse and Mike to deal with Time Warner when they showed up—Robbie had to run off to work. When I returned from delivering the truck, the Time Warner guy was drilling a hole in the wall to run the cable to the place I had specified to Jesse. Bam bam bam. Knocking things out. I was pleased.
My place is still jam packed with boxes and cardboard and crap. I have three pieces of furniture I need to assemble. I need to sweep and mop. I need to get my receiver fixed and then hang my surround speakers. But I have the interwebs, which is easily the most important thing. More important than running water. More important than sunlight. More important that gravity.
Luckily all those are still in place so the internet works nicely.
The only weirdness about the new place is that I don’t have a sink in the bathroom. Kind of sucks, but since I’m the only person in the place and I’ve hung curtains, I can wander around all sorts of buck ass naked and never worry that the people on Greenpoint Avenue are going to see me in my birthday suit.
Funny story, the morning after I moved in, I was getting out of the shower and wandered over toward the bedroom to put on some clothes when I saw my friend Charles, of Year of Record fame, peeking into the window from across the street. Being on only the second floor you can pretty much see right in to my place. I recognized Charles and waved at him and his friend and they came into my apartment. They both agreed that it’s super duper awesome, which it totally is. But that was also the point where I recognized I needed curtains as soon as possible.
Look out for photos in a couple days once I have everything set up and tidy. Until then, enjoy a video of my parents’ dog blowing off my little brother.
Stupid dog.
