I have already been through the end of the world once. So I can't say that I am afraid if by some, eh-hem, miracle that wacky preacher is right today. Remember Y2K? Where were you for the New Year's Eve of the millennium? I was in my apartment on 51st Street in New York City, a mere two blocks away from Doom Central. Decidedly célibataire, or single, though certainly not by choice, it was up to me to face destruction alone. So I did what any wise girl would do. I filled up the tub with bubbles, opened a bottle of Veuve Clicquot, put on my all time favorite Sarah Vaughan album and settled in for the long good bye. At some point I heard the cheers rise from the crowds and realized that midnight had passed and we were all still here.
Cue Artie Shaw and his orchestra and put on your dancing shoes. For with every end (perceived or real) comes a new beginning and I have a bit of news. We are moving! Now, no, I won't need to change the title or content of this blog as we are just hopping over two streets in Arles. But I am so excited. I'll properly tell the story of our current apartment soon as it is truly worthy of its own post and explain why we are leaving. Remi and I are wanderers, we live for the new and of course love to create our environment. And we will have our work cut out for us as these are decidedly less glamorous digs than our current residence--which is part of the point. We will be heading to another rental but it is an entire floor of a hôtel particulier and one that is filled with light. Sadly, no garden but imagine what it could be after we paint and clean and uncover. Light up the chandeliers!