In less than 24 hours, Kate will be offi­cially resid­ing in this domi­cile. It is kind of freaky, but not too much so–she is here almost all of the time any­way.  Since New Years, I think she/we have stayed at her house twice. I might even go so far as to say three times.  It is not like it is a big change, just a title change–which makes me think of funny work-related stuff. “No, we can­not give you a raise or a pro­mo­tion, but we can go as far as chang­ing your title!”  Except the title change is indifferent-to-bad and the Kate-at-the-eHouse is nifty and much awaited. 

Just a reminder.  I have about 3 liters of bour­bon that is in the process of being trans­mor­gri­fied into mint jupeps.  Any­one who helps the move gets their fair share.  Any­one who does not get dou­ble that.  (We have dig­i­tal cam­eras, and noth­ing spreads over-drunken embar­rass­ment faster than the internet!)

Drink­ing New­cas­tle, watch­ing Bucka­roo Ban­zai, Kate asleep beside me.  It always trips me out that Bucka­roo dresses like Pee Wee, is a physi­cist, a chemist, a neu­ro­sur­geon, a musi­cian, AND can ride a Harley. 

“I don’t have plans or schemes
And I don’t have hopes or dreams…” 

I *really* want a Harley Sport­ster 883C, but am not sure I can afford it or take it to New York.  I am going to have enough of a hard time leav­ing the con­vert­ible here at my parent’s house, and not being able to enjoy it while mak­ing the last year of pay­ments.  Well, maybe in Brook­lyn, I will be able to afford an extra 7K for an 883C and ride around the coun­try on the week­ends.  Prob­a­bly not.  At the very least, I will have a fairly new nifty lit­tle con­vert­ible I can return to in sev­eral years that will be paid off and will be like a lit­tle sur­prise present.

Part of me is really look­ing for­ward to the changes and adven­ture of liv­ing in another state, and part of me is remem­ber­ing the per­ceived iso­la­tion of my quote-unquote-adventure in Boston.  It is tough to make that tran­si­tion from a car cul­ture to a public-transit-standing-and-waiting-for-it-in-the-snow cul­ture, but I’ll do it for Kitty!  (I love you, Kitty!)

(This is not meant to be sad or depress­ing, but in re-reading what I typed, it cer­tainly gives off that vibe.  Sorry ’bout that.  It was not intended to be so.)

“We are not in the 8th dimen­sion.  We are over New Jer­sey.”

Watch for the next adven­ture of Bucka­roo Ban­zai: Bucka­roo Ban­zai Against the World Crime League

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Tagged as: buckaroobanzai, harley, motorcycle, moving, newyork