Talk about equal and opposites, I met Magic Johnson and returned home to a rent increase. I’d thought about moving in the past six months, even looking at a bizarre back-house with outdoor plumbing, but I love where I live. However, the landlord harshed my mellow one too many times, so I gave thirty days notice. I refuse the unknown so, I already found a new place and signed a lease. Currently living in a tetris of boxes and patching walls in hopes of getting out with my security deposit. Expect future posts about: creating your own hazmat suit, un-styrofoaming a ceiling, and how awesome my ass is gonna look after moving everything out and then into a third floor walk-up. Having moved four times in five years, I am pro. I have been slanging furniture and appliances on craigslist, bargain basement prices, cash only, and you gotta pick it up, I drive a Golf.

Off to get an ultrasound on my pelvis. I have a fibroid,which apparently is normal and no big deal. However, I have requested the ultrasound, as I am convinced that it’s the Christ Child, round two. I wonder if I can get free healthcare with this immaculate conception?