The fan has been on in the new bedroom for a week, and it still smells like polyurethane. I'm trying to be patient.

I unpacked the boxes, uh-gain, never sure what I was going to find because they've had contents marked on them 3 times now. On some I scribbled over the old markings, on some I just wrote on a different side, and on some I couldn't be bothered to write at all. I think those were the ones I packed after 11pm.

The heat wave was incapacitating -- like February in Chicago, we realized that one simply must not be ambitious about a day's plans, during August in LA. We slogged around sweatily, dreamt of rain, stuck to the leather sofas, and moved the fan from spot to spot, trying to figure out how to create a wind-tunnel in our little railroad-style half of a duplex.

Potential new tenants came in and out, and I tried to be encouraging without sounding like a salesperson, and I spent a lot of time on the phone with our landlord, trying to find out if anyone was thinking about committing. We had a 6 month lease, but wanted to get out a month early, as we anticipated rental possibilities might be drying up by October.

Well, that and we were just done with the place.

It was a sweet little duplex, but the small annoying things about it started to add up to a larger annoying mass: the one tiny closet with broken doors, the mile and a half to the closest real grocery store, guests having to go through the bedroom to get to the bathroom, the six (counted 'em, six) barking dogs that lived next door, and so on and so on.

It was great as an escape from the House of Douchebaggery, but it had worn itself out making us feel welcome.

So I glued myself to Craigslist once more, presenting compiled apartment pages to Mark, arranging series of viewings. We plodded through the heat, looking at a lot of mediocre places.

And then we found El Mansione. Hardwood floors, two bedrooms, a private hedge-surrounded patio, our own entrance, huuuuuuge livingroom, huge bathroom, 3 big ole closets and a linen closet. Two and a half times the space of our old place, for less than 1/3 again the price.

I took a million pictures to show Mark, who was at work when I went to see the place. It was in a state of medium disarray, being renovated after the last tennants' 12 year stay. I hesitated to pay for the $60 credit check, not sure I should commit to a place that was $300 more than what we were used to. I was the first person to see it, though, and our leasing agent warned me that it would go fast.

I took the pictures home, and found myself staring at them for unreasonable periods of time. Mark said it looked great, but left the decision to me, since the extra rent money would be my responsibility. I waffled, back and forth, back and forth. But the next day I realized: It's El Mansione!

We signed the lease. And then we walked around our new neighborhood, and found a big beautiful Korean grocery half a mile away, a 7-11 and a Mexian market two blocks away, "Ethical Drugs" pharmacy, sushi restaurants, korean BBQ, thai restaurants, and the Hollywood sign, looming above. In case I forget why I'm here.

And on top of all that, I found out that one of my sister's best friends from college is living less than 3/4 of a mile away! And another friend 1 1/4 miles away! And my bike shop a mile away! And the train a mile away! And almost no hills!

As we walked down the street, giddily eating celebratory chocolate Pocky, I felt something on my face. I stopped in my tracks.

"Did you feel that?" I said to Mark. He was looking up at the sky.

"I did, and I don't see an air conditioner anywhere."

"Rain! That's rain!"

"Yes it is."

"Or, well, drizzle anyway."

"An omen of positive change, I think," Mark said.

"Definitely," I said, reaching for another Pocky.

We found our sublettors, moved out as fast as we could, to accomodate them, and piled our furniture in the middle of our new huge living room, while workers came in and out, still cleaning and painting and refinishing and installing.

And it's been a week and two days, now, and everything is done. I've unpacked and arranged furniture and bought bathmats and we eat breakfast on the patio every morning. This was our 5th move in 9 months. And now I think we're done, for a good long while. Here's home.



View from the bed: