I live somewhere different now.

So, I moved into a new house. Here are some pictures of the move-in process and the lovely furniture we bought. I was cursing the decision to buy a white rug only 3 days after we got it home, when it started to turn a lovely grey color. What were we thinking?!

The house is about twice as big as the last house I had in Miami. Laura and I have still not decided what we will do with our extra room. Katie came over for dinner last night and she suggested that we could roller skate around the house if we got bored. I was thinking more along the lines of a Jazzercise studio, but I'm open to all sorts of suggestions at this point.

Speaking of Jazzercise: on Friday when I was driving to work I saw a woman standing in the banyan-tree median on Coral Way. That wasn't out of the ordinary--most pedestrians around here get their daily exercise in the form of what I like to call Miami Sprints, or creatively dodging traffic in a city that is Not walking friendly. Anyway, it wasn't strange to see someone trying to cross from the median, but she was wearing a very tight tank top over a striped t-shirt. As my eye traveled down I realized that she was wearing a black bathing suit over a normal every-day office type outfit. That was a great way to start the day. Anna suggested she was going from her morning Jazzercise class to the office. That's possible I suppose. Or maybe she was on her way to the pool, but she's modest about her swim wear?

Today is Super Bowl Sunday. I hope the Cardinals win, because I've never heard of them before. But besides just waiting for the game to come on, Laura and I have been wiling away the hours doing things like: cleaning, or going to the movies, or eating large tropical fruits.

This morning we went to see Milk. We only go to the movies on Sundays before noon. This is because that's the only time of the week that a movie costs $6. It's quite a commitment to get up and finish the paper and get to the theater by 11, but at least it's also the only time of the week when traffic is at a minimum. The regular Miami Masses are at home sleeping it off. The bars don't close here until 5am.

Milk was really depressing. Laura and I and all the other really old people in the theatre (I guess that's our crowd..the before noon on Sunday crowd) were all crying by the end. It was sort of like Titanic--we all knew how it ended, but couldn't help ourselves.