Thursday, November 8, 2007

Picturebook...A Holiday in August

I still haven't downloaded any Africa photos, for fear of causing my laptop to spontaneously combust. But, I just got some pics from a friend I met during my Namibia journey. Here are a few...with the promise to actually put together photos of all my travels:


Can you believe this is Africa? It's Swakopmund in Namibia, but it looks like Germany.


Now this looks like Africa - the dunes of the Namib desert, near Sossusvlei.


More beautiful dunes. Very English Patient.

Tuesday, November 6, 2007

Welcome to the Old Apartment

So after much ado, I finally have an apartment. I signed the lease and I move in on Tuesday -- assuming the movers ever call me back. (Seriously, the only thing harder to find than a good apartment is a reliable mover.)

Anyway, I'm actually moving back into my old Adams Morgan/Kalorama Triangle neighborhood. Well, to be more specific, I'm moving back into the same apartment building that I lived in during law school. The apartments there were so nice, and I loved the street. (I stumbled upon it one evening right before I started law school when I was driving around checking out DC neighborhoods, and then by major coincidence, a few days later I happened upon a roommate posting of someone living on that street.)

So, in the midst of my apartment frustration, I came across an ad for a one bedroom apartment in the same building -- just one floor up. And the rest, as they say, is history. Really boring history, but history nonetheless.

Of course, this time around I'm paying way more than I paid in law school for the apartment. Rent control. It's a beautiful thing sometimes. There's a woman in the building who has been there since I first moved in 1997. (She wasn't too fond of the parties I used to have, which is hard to understand -- who wouldn't love The Petite Soiree?) Apparently, as I just learned, she's been in the building since 1971. Thanks to rent control, she now pays only $700 for a 1500 sq. ft. gorgeous apartment in a great building. These are the stories that I would hear about in NY or see on Friends, but didn't actually believe.

That could be me in 30 years. Except, I wouldn't mind if the young neighbor downstairs threw a Petite Soiree. So long as I was invited.