Well. Where to begin?

Some very heavy stuff going down here at JeremyBear.com. I'm astounded, myself. But let's see...

I'll start with the move.
...

Sunday was the moving bonanza and it's been at least a year since I've seen anything that compares to the amount of elbow-grease that went into this endeavor. Our good friends Kelly Larned, Nate Brown, Tony and Stacie Dybas, Steve Groff, and Steve Yamikowayoshiyungduckdai (at least I think that's his name... Japanese, you understand) pitched in for the better part of the day.

Sunday, of course, was the deadline for our vacating the premises and we were so far behind that I began to run emergency scenarios in my head in the even that we couldn't make it. "Okay, we've got the moving truck from 9:00 to 4:00... if that's not enough, maybe we can keep it overnight and I can call in sick on Monday and so can Carey and maybe we can pull and all-nighter before our landlord notices and..."

And ergh.

But our friends were totally committed to our move and, wonder of wonders, we made it. A little frenzied by the end, there, but we got all the stuff transported and the truck was even back by 4:00 on the nose. The place was a shambles (it still is, actually), but at least all our stuff was present.

Our Appleton apartment was, surprisingly, exactly how we'd found it last July. Carey managed the final cleanup and, yahoo, it looks like we'd be getting our deposit back.

Our new place on Elm... well... sort of a delighted frustration. There'll be days and weeks of work ahead to get the place up to snuff, but, man, it's ours.

We really don't know anything about how the place works, though. As luck would have it, we bumped into Tom (the guy who does maintenance/upkeep/etc. for Elm Plaza... I think he's sort of our condo's resident traffic cop) in the parking garage and I tried to hit him up for as much info as I could. His tongue was much looser on the subject than Nacho's had been a year earlier.

JER: So, we don't really know how to "buzz people in" like they do on Seinfeld or anything.

TOM: Yeah, it's all through your phone. They call you up through the panel in the lobby and you can work everything from there.

JER: What about parking down here? Which spot is ours?

TOM: Your spots are there and there. Tandem spots in front of each other, which, I know, is a pain in the ass, but that's the only way we could make room. So you and your wife will just have to move now and then to let the other person out.

JER: Believe me, that's better than what we've gotten used to.

TOM: Right. I saw that you parked in the wrong spot earlier. If that had been my spot, you'd have gotten towed, *giggle*.

[Jer and Care give each other a puzzled look... was that supposed to be funny?]

JER: Ah. Well, we didn't know the appropriate spot, so... sorry to whoever we took over.

TOM: Yeah, had it been my spot, you'd have been, you know... towed... *giggle*

JER: Uh. Yeah, you said that.

TOM: You know how to work the elevators, right?

JER: Yeah, just use the keys. That's easy enough.

TOM: Just use the keys...! *giggle*

JER: ...Right... Now, do we need to contact the President of the Condo Association? What's his name? Dave something?

TOM: Yeah, Dave... *giggle*... he's my roommate...

JER: Uh-huh. And how do we go about--

TOM: I'm sorry, I can't really answer anymore questions tonight.

JER: Oh. Okay.

TOM: It's not your fault, it's just that I've been drinking a lot and I can hardly concentrate on what you're saying.

JER: I understand.

TOM: *giggle*

So we went upstairs and committed ourselves to setting up the bedroom furniture that night. Dog-tired and ultra-irritable, we shuffled, moved, re-shuffled, and scooted headboards, baseboards, boxsprings, mattresses, dressers and drawers around until we were satisfied.

And then we slept. In our new home.

In OUR new home.

Which was really, really nice.