Warm, Fluffy Towels

...straight out of the dryer.

Movers Gonna Move

One gigantic truck parked outside of DivaStan

Slowly emptying out

So many bookshelves, so few movers.

Briefly stumped by the IKEA desk.

Vast tracks of empty apartment

You know, that used to be my bedroom.

 

 

Moving truck parked out in front of VillaDiva, our new home.

A Little Random Funny

Just cause it made me laugh.

The End

For those of you who don't yet know this, or just haven't been paying attention, tomorrow will be our last day as residents of DivaStan.

TiaDiva has done something very impressive and grown up and has purchased her first house.  And being a good cousin, and a bit clingy if we're really being honest about things here, she has asked me to move into one of her spare bedrooms.

So, a change of scenery is on the immediate horizon. 

I'm doing my best to not get too nostalgic about the place, after all, an apartment is an apartment is an apartment.  But DivaStan has been my home for five years.  That's right.  I've called this little corner of the complex my own for five long years. 

There have been good times ("getinthecarcauseIneedablizzard"), and bad times (the mood stabilizer incident), happy times (*sound of a balloon popping* "Shit!!") and not happy times (angry bacon).  Memories of friends and family, and friends who have become my family.  And a few more cats than I care to remember.

But overall, life has been good here.

There are some who say that ghosts are nothing more than the residual energy we leave behind us.  Everywhere you go, everything you interact with, retains a tiny impression of your energy.  You leave your mark, your ghost.  Something of yourself that stays, like perfume lingering in the air after the pretty girl has left the room.

If this is true, then the ghosts of myself and my fellow Divas will linger here within this space, drifting in and around the lives of the residents who will follow after us.  Will they sense us here?  Be drawn to fill their home with books?  Crowd the balcony with plants?  Pick up stray cats outside of libraries?

Or will what remains of us be something subtle and comforting, dancing on the edge of perception, like a faint echo of laughter from out of the darkness?

For whatever remains of us, I thank you, my beloved sister Divas, for making this place a home and making the days I've lived here something I'll remember always.  My dear H.O.P.S.F., dear LibraryDiva, and dear TiaDiva.  I love you all.  Happy haunting.  

A Little Slice of Awesome

Anybody else seriously scared of that cat?

Laziest Cat on the Planet?

Yes, I think so.

A Little Funny...

...and a little Doctor Who!