Mad Merry Maudlin

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Hey all! Sorry about the gap in posting -- I have no excuse save laziness.

On the other hand, my upcoming New Year's resolution will be to blog more, which means you'll have at least a month of solid posts before I lapse again.

Did everyone have a merry Christmas? Mine was filled with laughter and unicorn giggles, as per the usual. To make things even more exciting, I am now officially an apartment-dweller; I signed my lease on Tuesday afternoon. Erik the Swede got here the same night, and we will commence moving tomorrow. I AM ALMOST A GROWN UP!! Whoo?

Kiker's grandmother passed away unexpectedly on Christmas, which is ridiculously depressing. Slightly less depressing is the fact that the family only had about three days to completely empty her apartment. Hence the call I received on Tuesday morning:

Kiker: Monica. Do you need a sofa with a fold-out bed?
Me: Sure!
Kiker: Want a matching loveseat?
Me: Awesome!
Kiker: I've got an all-wood entertainment center with a 32" television too.
Me: Okay!
Kiker: How about a freestanding headboard with a built-in wine rack?
Me: Yes?
Kiker: And another sofa?
Me: Um...
Kiker: And a kitchen table and chairs?
Me: I have one already.
Kiker: And a water bed?
Me: I just bought my own mattress!
Kiker: And five end tables?
Me: No!
Kiker: We're moving everything into your apartment today. Have fun in Detroit!

I have no idea how she and the menfolk she coerced into helping managed to get everything up the winding stairway to my third-floor apartment, nor how she convinced the apartment managers that she should be allowed to have the key despite the fact that I hadn't signed the lease yet... but my place looks classy. It's kind of shocking. Also shocking was when we opened up the wine-rack in the headboard, and realized that her grandma had been keeping a secret cache of bags and bags of ancient, worth-lots-of-money coins in there, along with newspaper clippings from WWII and tiny photos of family members. I tried to convince Kiker that they were technically mine now, since the headboard had been given to me, but for some reason she didn't listen.

In other news, guys, I am absolutely fascinated by this article from Lapham's Quarterly about Barbara Newhall Follett. Want to know what one of the most frustrating things in the world is, for those of us who read like it's our job? When you find out about an author who sounds absolutely magical, only to realize that everything she has ever written has been out of print for almost a century, and that no library in your entire state has a copy of her work. Sigh.

What this means is that anyone who manages to track down a copy of "House Without Windows" for me is practically guaranteed to be my best friend for life.

For. Life