Tuesday September 4, 2007

These are some of the stairs that all our worldly possessions had to travel up.  Yes,
SOME of the stairs- this is only one flight.  We're on the third floor.
If either one of us were nominally religious, I'd nominate Noah for sainthood for hauling an armoire, a bureau, a box-spring-and-mattress set, a chest, a dresser, a desk, a bookcase, and thousands of boxes up these stairs.
stairs of death

And now, our gorgeous, tiny, new apartment.  Yup, this is the whole thing- one central room, a galley kitchen, and a bathroom.  Also, this is the smallest closet I've ever had in my life, and I'm amazed and shocked that I somehow managed to fit all my clothes in it.  And all, um, thirty-five pairs of shoes.
bed & fp
fp angle
south wall 2
south wall
entry angle
entry from NE

My tiny, tiny closet.  And this shot proves that my wardrobe isn't actually 90% black- more like 40%.  So there.
my closet
While packing up for the move, it gave me some yuppie satisfaction to note that nearly half of our boxes were books.  That satisfaction lasted until I realized that boxes of books are obscenely heavy and awkward to carry up three flights of stairs.  Plus, Noah's books + my books = more than our bookcase can hold, and I've taken to stacking back issues of Foreign Affairs atop any flat surface and shoving dvd's in cupboards in an attempt to free up space.


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