I moved across town to a new apartment!

And I'm exhausted.

I am now dwelling in Bohemia, or rather the Hawthorne-Belmont neighborhood in Portland. I went on an expedition, tunneling through furniture and boxes full of books to the far corner of the living room in order to set up my computer and phone. Priorities. The Internet is working, but I haven't gotten any calls from telemarketers yet. Still, if I can use the Internet, surely I can use the phone.

After the movers went away, I headed back to my old apartment to do some last-minute cleaning up before my 4 pm appointment with the apartment manager and her husband. Unfortunately, my vacuum cleaner died in the cleaning process, although not because of the long hair wrapped around and around the rolly thing. The clear plastic thing in the center wasn't filling up with dust and cat hair like it should; instead, dust and cat hair were building up inside a hose...and finally it stopped working altogether and I could smell something reminiscent of a hot iron. The managers said the problem is definitely in the big part at the bottom--the section that rolls around on the floor. I'm thinking I'll open it myself before looking for someone else to repair it. I'll probably find a huge, tumor-like wad of hair in the center. It'll wave its tentacles at me and say in a raspy voice, "I am the nucleus!" Well, that was my Doctor Who joke for the day. Sometimes I think I should move to London just so people understand my Doctor Who jokes.

Anyway, the apartment's lovely--slightly smaller than the previous one but with twice the closet space and a location that suits me so much better. I am not a soccer mom. This apartment has a groovy sunken living room with a fake fireplace that serves as an electric heater, and it's got a metal railing separating it from the slightly higher dining room. The two glass display cases flank my dollhouse in the living room, right in front of the railing, so you'll be able to see both sides of most of the sculptures. Unfortunately, there's carpeting rather than hardwood floors, so it's not perfect. I currently happen to be reading a book called The Search for Shangri-la.