Things have been hectic the past few days as I’ve been applying to graduate school and applying to graduate school, and registering for classes, and applying to graduate school. (I think there are several different departments which all have to be informed of your desire to apply to graduate school.) And of course, there’s getting money, and finding a place to live.

I’d planned on moving into a little pink house not a mile from the university earlier this month, but either communications broke down or they decided to ignore my phone calls, email, and the little note I slipped under the door. So last Friday after applying to graduate school (parts 3a and 401.7.lambda?) I took a look at a pair of share homes in the general vicinity of the university. I kinda fell in love with the second place, a beautiful 1920s era home with an eclectic owner. Tons of artwork, antiques, and knickknacks adorn the place. Sure, it has its flaws, chief among them substandard 1920s wiring (with no bathroom outlets, and no ground, ick), pipes that sometimes bleed orange if they haven’t been used, and no central heating/cooling. But its creaky wood floors and curved plaster walls give it a charm that modern cookie-cutter white square houses just can’t match. And not only do I have a bedroom, but also an attached study, complete with a 50s RCA Victor tube radio. All of this less than 2 minutes from campus by bike.

So I moved in the important stuff on Tuesday, hooked up the computer to a wireless network, and have been spending most of my time making the place look shipshape. It helps that my desk sits adjacent to an antique steamer trunk from an ocean liner.

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