New City, New Apartment

I've lived in the apartment for one week now, and I can officially say that we're all moved in. Art and curtains are hung on the walls, everything is organized, and it feels a little more like home everyday. So, enjoy a tour of my new place... and prepare yourself for copious amounts of pictures.

This is the view from the front door into the living room (and a bit of the dining room). Luckily, all of the furniture fits nicely, albeit snugly, into the new space.

More living room, as viewed from the dining room. Sadly, the lovely fireplace had to be covered up by the television. But what I want to know is, who needs a fireplace in San Antonio?

Here's the dining room. Happily, I finally have enough space to put all four chairs around the table. Yesss.

Next, take a gander at the kitchen, which happens to be an amazing space. Why, you ask? It contains a dishwasher, endless counter and cabinet space, a pantry, a working stove... the list could go on and on. Basically, it's head and shoulders above my old duplex kitchen.

We have some adorable built-in book shelves between the kitchen and dining room, the perfect place for narcissistically displaying all of those wedding photos! (Jk, people.)

Another perk of this apartment is the second bathroom. The days of "calling" the bathroom after coming home from a road trip are history.

The lovely guest room

Our bathroom (which was hard to get a good picture of).

And finally, our bedroom. The curtains are my favorite.

So, now that you've seen the apartment, you know you want to come visit me!

Settling In

Today marks my third full day in the apartment, and things are finally beginning to settle down. All of the boxes are unpacked, and I've been gradually putting everything where it belongs, hanging art and curtains, and generally making the place feel like home. Right now it still feels like a placeholder residence, as if my stay in this apartment is only temporary and I'm supposed to head back to Abilene in a few days.

Even though I'm very excited about this new chapter in my life, I do miss Abilene, but mostly because of the friends I left behind. It's weird (and a little sad) to think that life there will go on without me, that the people I love will have new experiences and make new memories, and that my church will change and grow, without me. However, change is part of the progression of life, and leaving Abilene was the right thing to do. But right now, I'm very ready for San Antonio to start feeling like home.

Almost Home

Well, it's finally come to this: my last full day in Abilene. And let me tell you, I am so ready to get this move started. We pick up the moving van this afternoon, load it tonight, and head out tomorrow morning. San Antone, here I come.

Waxing Nostalgic

Moving Day is scheduled for Friday, so all I seem to think (or talk or dream) about these days is bubble wrap, cardboard boxes, and moving vans, as evidenced by my last five or so blog posts. All of this packing has got me nostalgic about my little duplex, and even though we're upgrading to a larger and nicer apartment, I'll very much miss the place I currently call home. So, please indulge me as I recount some of my fondest memories of 1740 Lincoln:

1. Senior year dinners with Fat Tuesday around the white Ikea coffee table

2. Brendan saying "I love you" for the first time on the front porch

3. Living with Smay, the best roommie a girl could ask for

4. Arriving home from our honeymoon to our first home as a married couple

Our homes are often tangible reminders of our life experiences, built around the memories we made while we resided in them. And as ugly as my duplex is, as excited as I am for a newer and nicer place, it will always remain special to me because of the life I lived there.

Can I Be Your Friend??

I recently finished reading Sarah Vowell's non-fiction book Assassination Vacation, and I'm experiencing book withdrawals. Well, more like author withdrawals. In the text, Vowell explores the lives and deaths of the first three assassinated presidents (Lincoln, Garfield, and McKinley), and recounts her travels visiting the locations touched by those assassinations. While the book sounds dark and morbid (and at times it is), it's equal parts travelogue, history lesson, and humorous musings. And while it was a delightful as well as fascinating read, I very much miss Vowell's enchanting style and tone.

The text is written in first-person, and Vowell frequently offers her personal experiences and anecdotes, so her personality seeps through onto the page. So, after reading the book, I feel like I got to know her pretty well (or at least her carefully crafted literary persona... but we'll save that discussion for another day). And now... I want to be her friend. She sounds so awesome! Vowell deftly blends history and modern-day, weaves the intellectual with the mundane, and makes the arcane seem relevant, while offering an insightful yet humorous take on life and politics. Plus, she's freakin' hilarious. Who wouldn't want a friend like her?

Of course, the real Sarah Vowell may be nothing like the one on the page. But lucky for me, two of her books are on my reading list, so I have much more to look forward to.

You know you want to read it.

Our House Is a Very Sad-Looking House

I've made a lot of moving-related progress in the past week. My mom and grandmother arrived last Sunday to help us begin packing, and now my entire kitchen and most of my bathroom are neatly packed in brown boxes, labeled things like "Silverware" and "Bath Towels." My house (or rather, the collection of possessions which make it my house) is slowly evaporating. All of the art, curtains, and decor is also packed, leaving behind only the most basic of living essentials. As a result, the place looks rather glum; you never realize what a cheery difference the little things make until they're gone. The rest will all be packed in about ten days, when we leave our little duplex for good.

Being in my house kind of depresses me now; most of the small touches that made it my home -- like honeymoon pictures, red candles, and green valances -- are packed away, leaving only stark, white walls and empty cabinets, so that it feels like a placeholder residence. I wish I could fast-forward my life to a couple of weeks from now to our new, fully-decorated apartment, and that warm feeling of home.

Take a gander at our growing collection of packed boxes.

The ones marked "Erin's Books" are my favorites. :)

Just Doing Their Civic Duty

(Apologies for all the recent moving-related posts; it's just been on my mind lately.)

Moving day is quickly approaching, so Brendan and I are attempting to slowly gather all the essentials needed for the big day. My mom and grandmother are coming to town on Sunday to help us begin the slow, arduous task of packing, so boxes are the first item on the list. We've been on the hunt for them lately, but it's easy to put that type of thing on the back burner. Well, we happened upon a fortuitous find this evening.

I had heard that Pinkie's, the local liquor store, offered free boxes. My freshman year roommate had hit them up before moving out of the dorm; most of her boxes were (humorously) labeled "Jack Daniels" or "Grey Goose Vodka." However, I wasn't sure if they still offered free boxes, or if they gave them out at all, but we ventured there this evening, hoping to get lucky. Once inside, I hesitantly asked the clerk if they had any extra boxes that we could use, not wanting to be a bother. He kindly led us to the stock room, where we had our pick of their superfluous shipping boxes. All in all, we ended up with about a dozen of them, which is wonderful. I also take (juvenile) pleasure in the fact that our moving boxes say "Beringer Wine" and "Tito's Handmade Vodka."

I'd like to meet this Tito.

It's too bad that the boxes weren't accompanied by the
corresponding liquor. (Jk, people.)

So, thanks, Pinkie's, for generously supplying us with moving boxes, and myriad jokes about their labels.