Okay, I have no idea where the title of that post came from, since it's Easter and not Valentine's Day, and I am not Ralph Wiggum, but that's neither here nor there.
I'm alive! And I'm living in my new apartment. There are no pictures yet because it's still under construction. (Sidenote: I was definitely spoiled by buying cheap Ikea furniture in my college days, because the more expensive stuff is ridiculously hard to put together. I now know what all those stand-up comedians are talking about when they bemoan the almighty Malm.)
I've turned on my heater and baked things in my oven and cooked things on my stove, and everything appears to have held together.
More to come!
ETA: I do live close to train tracks. Maybe it's subliminal.
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