Alright. It’s August 2. When did that happen? Is summer nearly over already? Is it 4:30 p.m. on a Sunday and am I still in my pajamas? Why is it we never see baby squirrels?

That last question isn’t mine. It belongs to David Sedaris and I got it out of his latest book “When You’re Engulfed in Flames” that I finished in about 8 hours.
This book has been out for a while but I waited to snag it on paperback and save ten bucks. I don’t know if the saving was worth it in the end because I had to wait 6 months for the paperback, but it’s a great read. Hilarious, as always. I want to be just like him, actually. I guess I should start smoking now.

Anyway, I’ve been held up from blogging lately mainly because I’m lazy, and don’t feel anything I’ve done recently warrants an interesting or pretend-interesting blog entry. I did move out of a big, beautiful house that I lived in for two years, and decided that that was as grand of an event as I’m finding myself a part of these days. And because blogging is just an excuse to hyperbolize the trivialities of a boring and meaningless life into something interesting, I thought I’d go ahead with this post.

Unfortunately, I did not have the presence of mind to photograph the lovely house I used to live in as much as I should have. I have a few sloppy videos of my roommate and I moving out of the place that I may post here later (yeah, right!), but no images to compare the old space to the new, except for this stellar shot of me posted up against my old car, Goldie, in front of Big Red, as I liked to call it.
Big Red was beautiful. Hardwood floors, a stone fireplace, high ceilings, a stained glass window depicting a red eagle with its wings spread. But the best thing of all was a huge palatial bedroom I called my own. It featured an east-facing sliding glass door leading out to a balcony from which one could gaze upon stunning Humboldt County sunsets. Even with two couches in it at times, I could easily do Pilates or yoga with more room around me than you could get at a gym…that is, if I wanted to, which I never did. But the option was there. This picture doesn’t really do the size justice, as there is about 15 square feet out of view, but it’s the only one I’ve got.

Although I left this amazing house behind, the new place is pretty swell. For starters, the rent is $160 cheaper than the old place. It is also more centrally located to downtown Arcata, and everything I need is within walking distance. I suppose I could have walked everywhere from my old place, but once again I’m lazy and I only walk places that take me 5 minutes or less. Luckily the new apartment fits this criteria.

But there are a few downsides to the move as well. For one, we’re attached to a larger house, and I can hear my neighbors as if they’re in the same room. I hope they don’t mind my current obsession with listening to the same Dean Martin song over and over again, because I know they can hear it.

Anyway, the size is the main downfall of what I like to call the Cracker Box. Here are some pictures that again don’t really do the size justice.

Me and my bestie and roommate Jaime from the living room window. Photo courtesy of Kim Smith Miller!

This is the outside of the place. The Volvo in the driveway is Sylvia, my replacement vehicle after Goldie died. Our portion of the house ends where the roof gets higher on the right

Our tacky porch.

Our lovely kitchen, which is actually much bigger than the one in our previous residence, believe it or not.

This is where we keep food, bowls and plates, etc., household items, and yes, all of my sweatshirts and jackets, because my room isn’t big enough to hold them.

View from the kitchen into the living area.

These are our cherished papa chairs, as we like to call them. They are lovely gifts from our friends Kim and Chris, and I rack up about 5 hours in mine a day (mine’s on the right) reading the newspaper, various books, and watching musicals.

View into our lovely bathroom that, because of it’s very close proximity to the living area, no one feels comfortable taking a dump in.

View into my sardine can.

Yeah, that’s about half a foot of walking space.

Bed. From the lack of good shots of my room you can tell that it’s small. Imagine the smallest bedroom you’ve ever seen, and then divide it in half. That’s where I live.

The view from my bedroom window, the perfectly located Big Pete’s Pizza.

So, that’s it. Please feel free to stop by anytime. If you’re not sure how to get into the place, just follow the sound of Gordon MacRae singing the overture to Oklahoma. I’ve got it on vinyl and listen to it constantly. You’ll know you’re in the right place if you find yourself on a small porch decorated with an elk spine and about 20 potted plants. Hope to see you soon!