Well, hey there! Remember me?
It was two weeks ago today that I was unceremoniously informed by the NYC Department of Buildings that my loft (along with all the others in the building) was being forcefully vacated, effective that day, due to at least eleventeen fire code violations and general negligence on the part of the building owner. Like, there was no Certificate of Occupancy. We lived in an illegal residence for over six years, and knew others who had been there for ten.
Anyway, I’ve spent the last two weeks flipping out, couch surfing, packing, looking for apartments, finding an amazing apartment, losing that amazing apartment, packing, finding another apartment that is not quite so amazing but has a lot going for it (including being literally 5 minutes down the street from Becky’s building), flipping out, packing, and so forth.
I am currently pirating my new neighbor’s wi-fi (it’s not strong enough to download a clever image) so I can inform you that the Dude and I have at long last landed, with three cats, a few boxes of our stuff, and Becky Sharper’s aerobed, in our new nest. 95% of our belongings are still over at the Loft of Certain Death, so we ain’t out of the woods yet, but now at least I have some peace of mind and a few more hours a week to focus on pursuing my harpyness, instead of pursuing real estate and/or legal action against the previous building’s owner.
I’m a little creaky, I fear, but I will do my best get back into the shredding of the Patriarchy’s guts. I know the other four picked up my slack with great brio (for which I am deeply grateful), but I missed you evil bitches something fierce.