I am moved. The fine folks at Stairhopper Movers took all my earthly possessions and loaded them in a truck and hauled them to Somerville. They huffed and puffed to remind me that they were indeed working hard, and then left with their massive truck. I was on my own again.
So far, (::knocks on wood::) things are great. My place is deathly silent, which is great. There is no evidence of rodents. Last night, I watched Extreme Makeover: Home Edition for the first time in months. I just sat in my own company with no place to go for the first time since January. It was great.
So here is a short list of things I like about my new neighborhood:
- The Pizza Place. It's so good. I went over there on Friday once I realized I hadn't eaten since 7am and it was nearing 2pm and ordered a calzone and frozen yogurt with Reese's Peanut Butter Cups in it. When the guy handed me the box with the calzone, I nearly dropped it since it was much heavier than I'd expected. When I got home, I was pleasantly surprised. The calzone was as big as my head, with a crusty outside and heaps of hot spinach inside and so much garlic it stung my mouth. Also in the box was a vat of marinara sauce. Seriously. I think I easily could have swum laps in it. The frozen yogurt was also excellent. While most pizza-place froyo machines just push the candy into the top layer of the yogurt, this had crumbled of peanut butter cup throughout the large cup.
- Target. I drove to Target on Friday since I needed a ton of crap, but once I'd bought my supplies and parked the car, I took a walk through Union Square. Only then did I realize that I'm about a mile away from a Target. I can walk to Target. This means only bad things for me, people. I think I need an intervention.
- The Packie. I was exhausted on Friday, but wanted to have a beer or two to welcome myself to my new abode. While driving around the new hood in my Zipcar, I saw a small packie. I walked back over later and walked back into the cheap beer section. And what to my wondering eyes should appear? 'Gansett. "Oh fuck yeah," I murmured, smiling as I handed over the six-pack of tallboys to the clerk.
- Market Basket. I'd heard great things about the Basket from my friend Steph. She told me it was cheap and the meat was good. I'd read things online about the absolute horror show that this store is on the weekends. I'd heard it referred to as "the UN." It is all of that and more. I went late on Friday afternoon and tried to look like I knew what I was doing. My feet crunched across the aisles. There was a wide variety of meat. Chicken breasts were about $4 for a pound. There were the plantain chips that Missy bought for a beach snack last summer that I'd loved. For several bags of food, I spent $29. Tonight, I go back to buy things to actually cook.
- The library. It's right near me, and it's a building from 1972. Or something. It's dated, but awesome. Funky stairs, orange metal racks of books, a rack of free stuff that included a pocket-sized Constitution. Once I can prove residence, I'm going to be there all the time.
- My apartment. It's so new. Everything is freshly-painted. There are no holes in the wall, no uneven spackle jobs from previous tenants. The floors gleam they're so new. I still have random boxes of crap everywhere, but it's mine. The kitchen is small but beautiful. I didn't know this, but ovens have new-oven smell. I have drawers and cabinets, unlike the Shithole. All I need is some internet up in that joint, and I'm good to go.
- This sign: