Also, lugging a cheap, crappy, very broken dresser out to the curb by yourself is an interesting experience. I was considering pitching it when I moved out of the rental house (along with some other crappy, broken furniture), but I figured I could put it in the craft room and get a new dresser for clothes, but then it just fell apart when we were unloading it at the new place, so that was that. Ah well. Good riddance, I suppose.
So I'm settling in, getting to know the house and its quirks. My sister and I gave some of my new neighbors Flavor Flav nicknames (on one side, there's "Silent Hi," and two doors down there's "Naked Guy," who I've never seen wear a shirt). The only neighbor I've actually talked to so far is my next-door neighbor Leroy, who is nice and has bunnies. It seems like a nice neighborhood, and there's a significant older population, which is good, because, yanno, my neighbors are less likely to be smoking crack on their front porches with their ghetto blasters and pimping in front of my house. Also, in the area surrounding my neighborhood, there's a synagogue, the fire department, an assisted living center, and an autism society. So my neighbors are also geriatric, autistic, Jewish firemen. Hmmm... interesting.
And there's totally a Harry Potter room under the basement stairs. It's more of a storage closet than a cupboard, but I'm still calling it Harry's room.
