pull up a box and i'll tell you a story.

We're here, finally. The movers, despite my efforts to screen, were more than slightly impaired. They completely misjudged the amount of stuff we have and it took them an extra trip with a van to finish the job. Actually, it was hardly that simple... but after much yelling ensued, our belongings were reunited.

Last week was incredibly busy. We have CT drivers' licenses. We have broadband. We have about 70% of our belongings either unpacked or in the general vicinity of where they belong. Marc made the observation that if we got rid of all of our books and CDs/cassettes/videos, we would have about half as much stuff. Our kitchen is incredibly well organized, thanks to me. Furniture (real grown-up type furniture! A couch! A chair! A dining room table! A futon! A new bed!) has been ordered and is in transit. We bought Marc his very own Subaru Forrester. (I'll stick with the Seven for now.) We've even traveled to Albany and back, testing out the all-wheel-drive in a bitter ice storm, all to see my brother play M. Jacques in Moliere's "The Miser."

Now, finally, it's Sunday night and we're beginning to settle down. We've just returned from Mystic Pizza and we're getting ready to watch The Sopranos on our cable-enabled TV. We caught last week's episode on Wednesday night; holy crap. Thank goodness we're finally rid of you-know-who.

There's so much more to say. I'm feeling pretty good. This is just a start.