There was lots of paperwork. Notable from it: They have the right to dictate the conduct of delivery-persons or moving people (in case your pizza delivery guy carries a katana and a wakizashi and wreaks havoc?), and we're going to have to request written permission to be lighting candles (whee, religion), and we can't run around in a bikini outside of the pool area, but otherwise nothing seems exceptionable. hcolleen showed the lady (who bears an eerie resemblance to Kirsten Dunst, albeit blond) her LJ; she reciprocated with her MySpace. AK-47 Guy came up in reference to the conduct section.
We did a walk-through. It was the very same apartment we'd viewed! Down to the handprints on the patio! These have been Noted, but they're sooo cute. After the walkthrough was over, we made the apartment Home. Then we did lunch. At approximately that time, hcolleen tried to say, in Japanese, something to the effect of "Crying over a new home is OK." What of course came out, to myrrhianna's somewhat startled ears, was "Crying on top of the building is OK." It was merely the positional "over" rather than the topical "over" -- and we're going to be using it as a catchphrase for situations where empathic comfort with silliness is needed, for a long time to come.
There were boxes. There were lots of boxes. All of us were sore and tired by the time we'd shifted all the boxes. I wound up taking a shower. There was silliness with the ice machine in the refrigerator, and the water filter probably needs replacement.
We went to IKEA. We did not find the same guy, so we did not exchange contact info, and we definitely did not take him home. We did look at lots of furniture. My feet were agony by the end -- I was not wearing appropriate shoes. They were OK for moving, but not for IKEA floor. At all. I have a list of things I want to get for the new place. There is a remarkable amount of furniture that I will NOT be bringing with me -- the bomb-proof desk and the large dresser are on that list! The coffee table that I can stand on is coming, because I would be a fool to let that go.
We went back to the new apartment post-IKEA, and I discovered that neither my clicker nor my code worked. There will be a trip to the office in my future: perhaps the same trip where I tell them about the mud-dauber nest by the door. We got things put away a little. The apartment has toilet paper, soap, towels, cups, and the good silverware and the ancestral china. It also has a lot of books, a footstool, a beanbag chair, and an ancient mixer. My room has two little cushions and a blanket.
That did us in. I woke up feeling slightly beaten this morning, and didn't get moving for at least eight hours.
Sigmund Freud's head. As a lollipop. One would think that the strange looks are the point of a product like that.
From a discussion elsewhere on religion:
I'm a polytheist by nature, a pantheist. I pretty much have to be. I wasn't built for a single religion any more than I was built to hold only one love at once. What label I first heard a truth under isn't going to stop me from embracing that truth, so long as it rings true to me. Plenty of things I see ringing true for others, but not touching me; then I get the things that leave those around me cold. It's all relative.
It's all different slices of the truth, and it's so vast that I used to despair at any one human's ability to hold even a fraction of it, until I remembered holography and fractals and jumped for the joy that we in ourselves hold in miniature the vastness of it all, on down into a tininess that boggles the mind to comprehend, and up into a vastness. I can't follow it all. Nor can you. Nor can anyone else. So it's perfectly fine to me, and not contradicting at all, that we're all seeing all of whatever it is from a different angle.
Established religions fracture and fragment and melt and schism and conjoin -- it's very little of it set down in stone for the ages, not even that which gets carved out on an actual rock, because time and politics all change, and translations get worse and better and completely miss the idioms of the time period.
I find myself confusing, but not conflicted.