going, going-
here.

I'm sitting in a very hot and sunny living room. the only chair in here is an old, crappy butterfly chair- which, for the record, is the most uncomfortable chair in the world to use a laptop in- but there are plenty of boxes of books, and a very sad-looking plant.

when we moved HoHo to LA years ago, we drove a U-Haul southward with all his stuff- stopping, of course, at Anderson's for split pea soup- and we arrived late at night at Spyder's place, with its palm tree and all of its Los Angelesosity... HoHo walked around with very wide, tired eyes, saying, "all different now!" which is what I've been saying to myself all day.

yesterday I finally moved, and now all is chaos and higgledy-piggledy!
everything in boxes! and not enough furniture to unpack it all, ha ha!
-anyone have bookshelves they're getting rid of?

yesterday one of the movers put a box down in the living room, looked up at me and said, "cds- oh my!" with a funny perplexed smile and wide eyes, which I thought was a little weird, until Eli and I leaned over the box and read, in Daphne's handwriting, "cds and videos and tapes- OH MY!" and we giggled for five minutes.

(Eli and Daphne get a standing ovation and my eternal- yes, Eli, eternal- gratitude for all the help with packing. rock stars. my friends are rock stars.)

The phone was out for two days, the dsl isn't working yet, so now I have an inbox full of spam to delete, like one more goddamn box to unpack.

San Francisco is experiencing some lovely September summer weather. it's too. darn. hot- sing it like Ann Miller, darling, oh, now I want to watch "Kiss Me Kate" again.

the new flat is in a house that was built in 1896 (why yes, it will be cold in winter), which makes me very happy. there is a cubby in the hall that used to be a dumbwaiter. we're not sure what we want to hide in there yet.
the back yard makes you think of "Rear Window," of course, but thank goodness you can't actually see into anyone else's houses, it's all decks and stairs and trees and bushes with big purple flowers. the dog next door has finally stopped barking at me every time I step out, but I hear him standing there on the other side of the fence, snuffing away like crazy, trying to figure out who I am. Whenever there are sirens in the neighboorhood, he and his brother howl most mournfully, which I find very reassuring for some reason.
On another deck somewhere, hidden from view, there is a parrot, which was chortling and singing and chatting away this morning while I had my coffee outside.


I'm listening to Bidu Sayao- everything echoes here, the ceilings are twelve feet high- I hope the upstairs neighbors like opera.