…dressed as???

Yep, again, I need your help, but this time for a two-person creative costume. My friend and I are both experiencing our first Halloween here in San Francisco, which I hear is nothing less than insane. We’re both blonde – her hair is is long, mine is short-ish, and (modesty aside) we’re both pretty cute gals. We’re looking for something fun, something quasi-sexi, yet not trashy. We’re looking for the ‘HA! GREAT Costume!’ exclamations that occur when we walk into the parties. And let’s be honest – we’re looking to end the night with a few smooches and a few more phone numbers.

Anyone got ideas? Put ’em in comments or send ’em to me.

THIS is what I pay $35/day for.

"Left my Home in Georgia,
Headed for the ‘Frisco Bay…"

One of the best things about my new place here in San Francisco is my
mailbox. No longer do I have to trudge to the street to get my mail;
oh, no. It’s right outside my door, literally two (maybe three, if
you’re pushing it!) steps from my front door, all shiny and faux gold
embossed with the word "Carbo" (the previous occupant of Apt. #1,
apparently) scratched out, soon to be replaced by my own. My trusty key
allows me an immediate glimpse on how much I’m proverbially ‘loved’,
though up until (hopefully) now my only admirers or meager
acquaintances go by the names of "Comcast" or "SBC" and their
correspondence, needless to say, is less than anticipated. Instead of
lamenting my poor fortune, I thought I’d instead look on the bright
side; after all, I hadn’t yet sent out my new address.

So, without further ado, I have formally bid adieu to Atlanta (leaving
it literally behind last week as I carted 1/2 the menagerie in the
backseat and took off for the open road, inspired by my purchase of the
windscreen for the Saab-alamobile) and have taken up residence on the
West Coast; specifically, San Francisco. Though the apartment is what
I’ll kindly refer to as "cozy", let this serve as your official
invitation to come visit ANY time…I’d love to have guests! In the
meantime, however, inundate me with communication so I don’t feel so
"on the other side of the world"-ish as I have been.

And for those of you who are still feeling charitable, am now reaching
the land o’ desperation in terms of my darling house – it’s for rent
($1800/mth) or sale ($335,000) – I’ll consider a lease/purchase as well
– here’s the webpage with all the info…please pass it along if you
haven’t done so already and you’ll receive my eternal gratitude (and
heck, a cash prize!) if you refer me to the person who buys or rents
it. I’m not above a bribe.

(GO HERE! CLICK HERE! LOOK HERE! RENT/BUY HERE! And yes, subtle I am not.)

Until next time, I suppose I’ll just be

"…Sittin’ on the Dock of the Bay, Wastin’ Time."

…But on the road I am a-goin. The trip has officially begun…made it one-tenth of a mile before the cats were relegated to their crates. Am now being serenaded by a cacophony of meows. Let the adventure begin…

Moving to a new city is always stressful…will your old furniture fit into your new place? Will you have to redecorate? Can you find a good deal? And – often, most importantly – will you get it all done in time?

Managing to plan a cross-country move from nearly 3000 miles away, while in the midst of work chaos, isn’t exactly easy. I’ve got 1/2 of the menagerie here with me,  one of which is currently eating the empty Ikea boxes, a practice I’m allowing in hopes that it will tire her out enough to grant me more than 2 hours of sleep. (I only *WISH* I was exaggerating here, but really, someone this tired doesn’t talk in hyperbole; we can’t even remember what that means.) I’ve got a few suitcases of clothes, some bath products, and an Aerobed graciously borrowed from my darling friend (and newest partner in crime), Jen  – in essence, it’s frighteningly easy to see how little you actually need. As such, I don’t feel too bad about downsizing (read: selling everything I own.) Change is good, purging is cathartic. (This is my new new mantra.)

And so, as I’m sitting on the ground, typing on my new Powerbook while Miss Lila chews on a used swiffer duster (again, if this will allow me to get THREE hours of sleep, it’s worth it!), you can imagine my excitement about my new couch. I found it on Craigslist, otherwise known as my newest retail saviour, a steal at only $450. FOUR HUNDRED AND FIFTY US DOLLARS, for a like-new sectional that was purchased just a year or so ago for over $3000. (Yes, that *IS* THREE THOUSAND DOLLARS.) I’ve been bragging all day – Look at my deal! Aren’t I lucky!? I even arranged to have a mover help me get it the five blocks into my apartment, and here it sits:

My house is really light, really airy – that’s why I loved it, all three rooms plus a bathroom and a closet. Quite a change from my three-bedroom craftsman in Atlanta, but this Edwardian building has its charm. I mean, really – look at the light! Look at the floors! Look at my darling hallway!

Now look at my darling hallway, heretofore known as "Narrow Pathway to Hell", with the second part of my sectional firmly stuck in the middle of it, missing a leg and leaving me with a front door without any handles.
Anyone know a good locksmith? Or sedative-prescribing shrink? I’m in dire need of both.

…you put on an outfit for work, realize that not only does it not match, but it’s ugly and figure unflattering to boot, and wear it anyway because you don’t have the energy to find an alternative.

And therein lies justification that I’ve hit an all-time-new low: intentional fashion self-sabotage.

Am I doing the right thing?

I mean, I think I am…no, I KNOW I am, it’s just as I’m lying awake, mentally taking an inventory of everything I own (which will soon be everything I USED to own, since I’m literally selling it all) I find myself questioning a decision that I think – no, again, that I *KNOW*, is right. And then I remind myself that this is the right thing for me to do, the right time to do it, and that yes, I’m silly for even double guessing myself. After all, the easy thing to do would be to stay, since transporting three cats and a dog (aka, Le Grande Menagerie)2,559 miles (Thanks Google Maps!), selling my stuff, renting my house and leaving my friends is far from easy. In fact, it’s probably one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, but yet knowing that I’m taking the hard route only reaffirms my decision to do it. My life in Atlanta for the past 5 1/2 years has been good, but I don’t want good, I want great. I don’t want complacent, I want – um, whatever the next step of complacent is. I want spectacular, and that’s what this move provides.

I’m a firm believer in the "if you ask, you shall receive" principle, since so many times I’ve seen people be very clear about what it is they want in life (or with a job, or a boy, or anything) and are surprised to find that after vocalizing their desires, they found themselves with exactly what they wanted. It’s the whole ‘Be careful what you wish for" idea, since many times, you’ll get just that. And in believing this principle, I intend to set it in action again. So, to appease my nerves and stress and make this whole ramshackle fiasco of a cross-country move in two weeks go as smoothly as possible, God/dess/Universe/Internet/Whoever is Listening, I want:

• To get the menagerie to California without inciting a ruckus on the flight (and without sending my cats to the feline loony bin)
• To get a fabulous renter/buyer for my house
• To sell everything I need to
• To get my car cross-country without ridiculous expense
• To find myself settled and happy and enjoying the "summer" months in San Francisco

Really, that shouldn’t be too much to ask, right?

I’ve lived in Atlanta for five and a half years, aka, a whole four and a half longer than I thought I ever would. The story of how I made it to that fair city is interesting, yet will be saved for another day; suffice it to say that I hadn’t ever intended to be there for as long as I have been. And now, times, they are a-changin’.

It took me nearly ten minutes to figure out how to begin the email I sent out; this post, twice as long. There’s so many things I want to say, and yet putting structure around them just isn’t happening. I need a way to convey the excitement and corresponding hesitation, the certainty and the questioning that are waging a battle in my head. But despite any trepidation, however small, I’ve made my decision, the wheels have been put in motion, and it’s happening.

I’m moving to San Francisco.

Before you get all "you’re too impulsive!" on me, know that I’ve been thinking about this for a while; the rest of my team at my new job here at Google is out in California, and after being on-site for a few weeks, it just made a lot of sense to join them.  Yes, I know I just bought a new house, I know I have another townhouse that I rent out, I know that it’s not going to be easy. (Yes, Mom, I know you think I’m making a mistake.) But as with most things in life, you have to take a risk, take a chance when you HAVE that chance, and so I’m not only going after the golden ring, Mr. Caufield, I’m grabbing it.

If that’s not enough, I’m making the move very quickly – I’ll be back in Atlanta for only 4 days (really only one before the movers come on October 10th.) I’m selling a TON of stuff (furniture galore – let me know if you’re interested!) and need to get my house rented out asap. So, wide and wise and wonderful world wide Interweb, I’m again seeking y’all’s help. If you want to live in a FABULOUS house, or know of someone who does, I’ve got one for you:  Mine!

So watch this site…changes, they are a-comin’.

If you’re a pet owner, you think you know everything you can about your dog/cat/ferret/bizarre little iguana? You do, don’t you? Yeah, I did too. Until I got to spend many, many hours with my darling Lila Belle, who has learned to exhibit a few traits that aren’t so darling (and quite a few others that are, so I’ll call it even.)

Yes, one week (or three, depending on how you count it) into my four/six week jaunt across the world, and I’ve learned a thing or two about my puppy. In Atlanta, she wasn’t allowed on the bed (and CERTAINLY not allowed to sleep in it, given the feline menagerie’s predilection for doing so.) Out here, she’s an only child puppy, so she’s been granted the golden right to the bed (if only b/c I feel too guilty making her sleep in the too-small travel crate we have out here) so I’ve seen first-hand (first-paw?) how this little darling prefers to sprawl out, spread eagle, right on top of the pillows. And my legs. And my arms. And my chest. Anywhere she can, basically. Would be quite amusing if it wasn’t so encumbering.

I’ve also gotten to learn about city living. At home, we have a lovely fenced-in back yard, complete with dirt! And grass! And branches! And weeds! Here, in the city, Lila Belle is faced with doing her, uh, do, on concrete, the only choice being whether or not it’s dirty concrete or dirtier concrete. And though I don’t blame her, Miss Lila hasn’t taken kindly to a) doing her business IN FRONT OF OTHER PEOPLE, EGADS! and b) doing it on concrete. Which, as you can see, poses a problem. You can take the gal out of the country, but not the country out of the gal, apparently.

But, all in all, it’s been good so far. We’ve moved from the hotel into a temporary apartment, and while it doesn’t have grass, it DOES have mulch, and Lila has seemed to find this an acceptable replacement for her beloved yard. There’s a Safeway shopping center across the street (much to my post-Safeway.com ordering self; the delivery man thought I was losing my mind…in my defense, I hadn’t realized the actual STORE was 100 yards away. My bad.) and not one, not two, but THREE Starbucks right around the corner. (I propose I alternate to equalize their daily profits…can’t have one getting all my $3/day.) Work is busy as usual, but challenging in that way where you’ve ended the day and know you’ve actually done a lot. (I hear the word for that is fulfilling, but it’s such a new experience to me, I’m still coming to terms with it.) So, at least for today, all is right in the land of Aubrey. And that, my friends, is a good feeling.