So I spent my first night in a new room. I haven't had a chance to really think much about my new living situation. I feel like I haven't slept in years. Last night, when I had all my shit in the apartment, I sat down to write out a check. I wrote the check and sat back on the couch and realized I haven't a relaxing sit in a long time. It was nice. Never underestimate the importance of a good sit.

As far as the new roommate situation, so far so good. All he asked is that the ice trays are kept full. I can live with that. We went out for some dinner last night. Had a drink. Took a bath together. I thought that was a little weird but Doug said it's a Texas thing. He's from Texas. I didn't argue. You know what they say. When in Rome... take a bath with a fella.

The big difference so far is my walk to the subway. I used to be two blocks away, but now it's a decent 15 minute walk. Right now that's not so bad, but come winter, that's gonna blow monkey balls.

I will also miss my pizza place on Driggs Ave. They know how I like my pizza (not too hot... I've got a sensitive mouth and all). And they had damn good pizza. The Grandma pizza is the best. I'll have to go back just for that. Then there's El Loco Burrito, which makes the best burritos that are the size of your head. For five bucks. So good.

In my old room, I had one of those chains that hung down from my light on the ceiling, so I'd always reach up to turn the light on and off. I have done that about ten times so far in my new room. There is no chain though. So if anyone is looking in my room, they see me reach up, then pull my hand away real quick. I must look like I'm doing some really lazy exercise.

Which reminds me of an anecdote about my ass. I constantly check my pockets for three things. My phone, keys and wallet. I'll just tap the pockets that they are in, just to make sure they are there. So it is normally front left pocket, front right, then right rear. I do it without thinking. No big deal. But if I am in public and I tap my back pocket and my wallet isn't there (maybe it's in my front pocket or I felt I didn't need it), I think people see me touching my own ass and I get self-conscious.

I feel that everyone stares at me and thinks, That guy is a pervert! Tapping his own ass for no reason. The nerve!

Anyway, you're all invited to my new apartment for a party. Say, Friday, around nine? I'll be away for the weekend, and I think Doug is working, so just be sure to lock up when you leave. And fill the ice trays.