I'm alive and well and living in South Carolina.
It's been a ball-breaking bitch of a two weeks, though, during which I nearly lost my mind at least a dozen times. Difficult move. But we're all here together now in our new place, living out of boxes.
I gave up my original plan to move my LPs myself in the car drive out here, and entrusted their fate to the Lord and United Van Lines, and yes, all of my babies made it intact. The movers must have known how much these items meant to me--in all seriousness, they were the only things I really cared about--because they didn't unload the LP boxes until the very last crate. Sadistic bastards.
This post is in memory of Dana Heitland, Carol Moyston, Carol Williams, and Karen Wilcox.
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Ever notice how this place just basically, well, sucks.
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