Change of a dress

Prepare yourselves for months of non-stop blog talk about my upcoming cohabitation. Not that I'm going to be all, "Oooh I'm moving in with my boyfriend," but that I'm going to be all, "I HATE MOVING." Today officially started the apartment search, and just like in every other aspect of my life, I attacked it with fervor. I found 3 places today, have an appt to see one tomorrow, and already saw one.

The one I saw, I shall call it the Yellow Adobe Sunshine Suite, was adorable. It was the sunny upstairs (hello, can you say Euroloft re-run?) of a duplex. Upon walking up to meet the broker, I caught a glimpse of the downstairs neighbor, AKA the owner of the building, getting in his Jaguar and speeding off somewhere totally glam. He was fashionable, probably 35, and gay (visual clues, and was later confirmed by the broker). He seemed nice, and has 2 dog, which makes him seem nicer, and apparently hardly ever home. Me likes. Also spotted: a baby grand piano and tons of artwork. Me really likes.

It was a HUGE 3 bedroom/1ba with a formal dining room (we would probably set up wall-to-wall tumbling mats in there and use it as a tumbling gym?). The kitchen, small, but filled with appliances that made me smile, and tons of cabinets which is the one thing I don't currently have. It was nice to imagine all of the trinkets my mother's given me over the past 6 years in their own place; the crock pot, the rice cooker; the Magic Bullet, the list goes on. There was room for all of them and more.

Tomorrow's appointment is to see another huge place, that's also got a huge ticket attached to it. We shall see, as the quest begins.