Big, belated news. Am moving to Queens! Well, half-moved, akchully. Yesterday took all my boxed belongings to my sunny residence in Astoria/Woodside (depends on who you're talking to: me, or the PO). Official launch date is Mar. 8, because paint smells bad and it's nice to have furniture to sit/sleep/eat on. Next week it'll be couch, bed, kitchen table, my great-grandmother's chest of drawers (known in our family as "Nanny's chest," which always sounded so weird to me as a little kid), etc. My room is skeletal right now; a lack of bric-a-brac. And only one pair of jeans! Eep!

New roommates makes me more nervous than any possible thing else. Friends of friends, Leah and Sarah, both my age, both work in publishing as well. Uncanny, but also nice. I imagine us venting to each other in complete and utter accord: "And toDAY I had to retransmit and entire 500-pg. manuscript because the author decided LAST MINUTE to add an entire INDEX." Eggh, I get buggered just thinking about that.

Okay, to the specs: 3rd floor of a three-fam house-ish thing, last house in a row, lots-o-windows, gorrrrrgeous kitchen, granite countertops, marble bathroom, I taxed the tiny br because a) less rent, b) better view, c) kind of kozy. So front to back: my room next to living room, kitchen off living room, down small hall to bathroom, other two brs.

I have big baking plans.

That's the news. More TK.