Hide the Knives

Well, here it is. My first ever blog post. I don't know how I've managed to escape this trend thus far. I've always been something of a late bloomer--I guess even when it comes to technology.

(All of the sudden I feel pressure to be deep, insightful, and witty.) (I think I'm suffering from blog fright.)

I'll start simple by describing my surroundings. I'm sitting in the living room of my new apartment downtown. I moved here from my old apartment in Arcadia, which friends affectionately called the 'cell block,' just a few weeks ago. The place was old, made of cement, situated in a seedy little pocket on the corner of 40th and Camelback, and resting on the largest ant hill in Phoenix. My first week there, in addition to adjusting to the suspiciously skinny parking lot spots, I had to deal with an ant infestation...in my closet. My old roommate and I originally chose that apartment to save some money...perhaps for a trip to Europe. I can handle anything if I know a trip to Europe is the light at the end of the tunnel. (Here's the score after a year of living there: Money saved: $500; Trips to Europe: Zero.) Hardly worth it. Early on in our stay, my roommate got a 'get out of jail free card' when she accepted a job across country. For 10 months, it was just me and the ants living there. I slept with the lights on and a steak knife under my mattress.

It's amazing the difference surroundings can make on my domestic state of mind. Living in downtown Phoenix is like a breath of fresh air. (Figuratively, of course. Have you seen the brown haze down here?) Finally, I'll get to live out my dream of being a single chick in the city (even if it is a city where everything pretty much shuts down after 6 p.m.) The best part: sleeping with the lights off, and keeping the knives where they belong: in the kitchen.