Flatlands

So.

Valancy and I have finally moved in together after a decade of living in each other's coat pockets. As yet, we have no furniture -- merely sleeping bags, towers of books, and a food processor.

Let me tell you, it's damn difficult to order Chinese delivery when you have no phone line and don't know your address. For that reason, this journal entry was originally written on the back of some old mapquest directions to the house of somebody whose name I don't even remember, but which paper was lost almost immediately after I wrote upon it.

Okay, I recognize that paragraph featured a huge non-sequitor, but there's no time to go back and correct it! No time! Am working on someone else's computer at a house with a phone as it does me no damn good to have internet access if Southwestern Bell keeps me down!

Pardon me while I have a strange interlude.

::goes and screams in the corner while the cats look on curiously::

Okay, I have to go find some hangars now and stop bothering my neighbors. I'll write a better entry tomorrow, I promise.