You’re not going to believe this, but we’re moving again. Yes, it’s unbelievable, but absolutely true.
When we first arrived in the New Orleans area last month, the film festival was only a few weeks away, and we didn’t have much time to look for a place. So, we had to settle for a temporary spot just outside the city, while we prepared for the festival. But, now that the festival is over, it’s time to relocate to a better locale in the French Quarter – which, happily, we found yesterday.
Of course, with how often we come to New Orleans, you’d think we’d already have a permanent apartment, but you’d be wrong. Goodness knows it would make life easier if we didn’t always have to search for a sublet every time we ventured into town, but we have yet to find a permanent situation – mainly because we’re always slammed with festival duties. Hopefully, that’ll change this spring, when we return from our adventures – or should I say misadventures? – in the Florida Keys and Los Angeles. But, for now, we’ll be moving – tomorrow. Won’t the kitty be pleased?
Although, as I’ve previously reported, I’m not a fan of packing and unpacking, I do love the fact that Dan and I have called so many places home. In the decade we’ve been together, we’ve lived in over twenty different domiciles, from a flat in the English countryside to a roving RV to a French Quarter apartment with a lovely courtyard (pictured here with Dan, my stepmom, and my dad). It might sound crazy to others – including our parents – but we truly embrace our nomadic lifestyle. The scenery is ever evolving, and boredom is never an issue for us. As a bonus, when the apocalypse comes in 2012, we’ll be well versed in hitting the road. Of course, if the latest Roland Emmerich flick has it right, there won’t be anywhere to run – at least here in America.
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