dopplebock

I’m definitely getting around to some things I’ve been “meaning to do” for a while.  One such item involves taking more complete advantage of the natural beauty around me – Few things beat getting off the grid for a couple days and out in the woods.  Last fall, I finally drug the tent out in late October.  It was getting a bit cold for sleeping comfortably, but I’m glad I did it.  Now, on the first day of Spring, I think it’s a good time to publicly declare a goal of getting out at least once a month to camp, hike, or float a river.

The other item I’m checking off a longtime list is getting into the homebrew arena.  Applied microbiology and biochemistry at its finest.  I gave up beer for Lent this year (of course, with the stipulation that I could still enjoy green, dark, and amber beer on Saint Patrick’s Day, which I did).  About a week in, I was already contemplating what the first beer I was going to drink on Easter was.  At this point, the Shiner Commemorator was in the lead, but in a flash of inspiration, I realized that if I started making my own beer now, it would be ready by Easter and I could celebrate the resurrection of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ with copious amounts of my own brew!

I consulted a buddy who used to brew pretty regularly – he dug up recipes for a Scottish Ale, an amber, and a dopplebock.  We decided on the Bock – which is appropriate.  Unbeknownst to us at the time, Bock was traditionally brewed for special occasions, often religious festivals such as Christmas, Easter or Lent. Bocks have a long history of being brewed and consumed by Roman Catholic monks in Germany. During Lenten fasts, high-gravity Bock beers provided sustenance period.   Apparently, doppelbock synonyms include Fastenbier (“Lenten beer”) and Starkbier (“strong beer”).  Pretty Excited. If you are interested in reading more about the style of beer, here you go.

Lots of malt going on.  We used three varieties (chocolate malt, German Munich Malt, and Caraveinne).  Not too hoppy, just a tough of Hallertauer and Williamette.

On a related note, Shiner just  started their own independent music label.  Interesting.

Looking forward to testing it out.  I’ll let y’all know when it’s done.  Any suggestions for naming it?  Have five gallons fermenting away.  We’re going to put most of it in a keg, but I’m going to bottle some as well.  Hell, if you’re bored, send me ideas for a bottle label and I’ll use it.  Here are a few pics of the process.

March Already?

So, here we are in March and no posts yet this year.  For shame.  I’m going to just dive in with some kind of bastardized photo bullet-point highlight reel to update some of y’all and get my head back in the game.  Many of these  may graduate into full-fledged posts.  In fact if there is an item you are particularly interested in, let me know in the comments and I’ll be sure to expand  those first.   So, to begin at the beginning, of the year, that is…

New Year’s Eve. Had the pleasure of watching the Vanderbilt football team in their first bowl appearance since losing to the Air Force in 1982.  Prior bowl history includes a 6-6 tie against Texas Tech in 1974 and you’ve got to go all the way back to ‘55 for the last victory (25-13 over Auburn in the Gator Bowl).  These guys had things down in the tailgating department.  I’m already ready for next football season.

On Wine:  My roommate, Andrea, found this great wine class at a local restaurant (Sunset Grill). For $12, you can explore five examples of the weekly  varietal.  Craig Clifft, the GM / co-owner of Cabana, teaches the class and it’s a very enjoyable, non-pretentious way to expand your wine palate and vocabulary.  There are few classes left, check it out. On the wine note, our favorite wine tasting swilling event was Bistro215’s First Friday tasting, but now that the place closed down, we took matters into our own hands and had a replacement of our own.  First one was a lot of fun last month and we’ve got another one on deck tonight.  Looking forward to it.  Suppose this also falls under the wine category: I gave up beer for lent, so this has definitely upped the wine / whiskey consumption. 

Shows: There have been a decent selections of shows lately… So far this year I’ve caught Jason Boland, Randy Rodgers, and Charlie Robsion last night (bumped into his brother Bruce at the Sunset Grill bar as well).  Made it out to 12th & Porter for the first time since they re-opened.  Like what they’ve done with the place.  Heard some good acts, to include Ms. Shea Fowler.  My only complaint about the music scene of late is that I completely missed seeing Reckless Kelly last week.  I was at another show, but if I knew RK was playing, I would have been there instead. Oh well…

Relationships: I was debating on whether or not to include this, but what the hell.  February marked a six month anniversary in my latest romantic endeavour.  Celebrated with a picnic out at Arringtong Vineyards.  This was shortly followed by a classy Valentine’s day meal complete with a couple bottles of champagne at her favorite restaurant, Prince’s Hot Chicken. (Watch this video.)  Thought things were going well, but I got the pink slip a couple days later in dramatic fashion. Complicated, as always, but boils down to she’s older, not having kids, etc. Oh well, whadaya gonna do?

Nerd Stuff: You’re on the home stretch… Lab is going well.  I’ve started an exciting new collaboration with a vascular surgeon where I’m actually doing some molecular physiology in addition to biophysics.  This picture is probably as nerded out as I’ve been with personal protective gear in quite some time.  Glasses, lab coat, the works. Good ole’ radiation safety – working with “hot” ATP. Also notable in the nerdy highlight reel, as of 14FEB09, I’m on twitter @JaredGodar.  Now I’ll leave you with today’s XKCD, which cracked me the hell up. 

Happy Thanksgiving

Hey, all.  As you gathered from my last post, the family already celebrated Thanksgiving last weekend.  It was great to see everyone and the folks game through with a great meal as usual.

Since I took a long weekend last weekend, I’m making up my time in lab.  It’s nice to have the place to myself.  Fewer distractions, get to rock out to my own music, and in the last week or so, some things really seem to be coming together with my project.

Having some time alone away from the typical hustle and bustle associated with putting together the Thanksgiving meal gives me a chance to reflect on what I’m thankful for.  Health, family, friends.  As much as I bitch about the third year graduate student slump and the transition from the excitement of getting paid to go to school, to feeling like I’m stuck in a low paying job, it’s nice to step back and think about what a good position I’m in: great lab, doing exciting work, with a mentor that cares about us as scientists and people.  To be able to ask and hopefully answer important questions related to human health and disease with the freedom to explore the unknown is truly a gratifying experience and I am thankful for all of the teachers, role models, and support to find myself in this position.

I won’t ramble on, for a change, because if I get on a roll I don’t think I’ll find a way to wrap up.  After a few more hours in lab, I’ll head home to get a couple things together, and then my boss has invited me to his home to celebrate Thanksgiving with his family.  Hope you enjoy this clip.  Gobble, gobble.

On weddings and early Thanksgiving.

Hello all.  Again, as these things generally start, an apology for the length of time since my last post.  Qualifying exams are no longer an excuse, but I suppose I’ve been busy with work.  You know, one day, I would like to graduate and be done with school.  That being said, I had a great weekend.  I was back in Houston from last Friday through last night.  Some friends of mine from here in Nashville were getting married downtown and my family did an early Thanksgiving dinner on Sunday.

About a week ago, I pulled my tuxedo out of the back of the closet and nervously tried it on.  This one dates back to the undergraduate days at Southwestern.  Fortunately, it was post freshman fifteen and pre-Army.  With the exception of needing a new vest, it was entirely salvageable.  While purchasing the vest, I contemplated getting a legitimate silk tie it yourself bowtie as opposed to the pre-tied number I’ve always used.  I initially talked myself out of it, but as the date approached, I decided to go ahead and pick one up.  And by ‘go ahead and pick one up’, I mean call the formal wear place on West End, pay the man by card over the phone, and have him stick my tie with the cashier at Panera next door since I knew I couldn’t make it there before the shop closed.

My Thursday leading up to leaving town consisted of lab, graduate student social in my building, a cab to the Ryman by way of Panera (for the tie) to go see Robert Earl Keen.  A brisk walk from there to the Gulch to catch Bruce Robison at Station Inn, another cab home, pack a bag, then a 4:45 wakeup from way too nice of a roommate who got me to the airport for a 6:00 am flight. (Thanks again, Andrea).

Friday evening, I went downtown for services and the rehearsal dinner.  We were at a Synagogue near Rice University.  Oh yeah, this was my first Jewish wedding.  Having to drive from the Conroe / Woodlands area on a Friday afternoon, I allowed myself ample time for traffic and ended up about half an hour early.  The marriage couple showed up right on time (five minutes late).  So, here I am, wandering around looking for a familiar face.  Everyone was nice, “shabbat shaloms” were exchanges all around.  “Shabbat shalom?, Right back at ya, buddy.”  About ten till, some folks I knew trickled in.  Nice service with beautiful music (even if I couldn’t understand any of it).

Saturday, I had lunch with my family then went down into Houston to catch up and hang out with a couple friends before the wedding.  We’re watching football, and I see a Rice halftime score at the bottom of the screen.  This prompted me to ask my friend to hop online to see if they were playing at home or away, given the proximity of the Rice stadium to the wedding site.  Their internet wasn’t working, which was no big deal.  Except it kinda was.  About an hour later, I realized that I was counting on the Google and YouTube to teach me how to tie a bow tie!  Given the extraordinary path to getting the tie, I was determined to wear it, so I went ahead and donned the tux and we started to attempt to tie the damn thing.  The one thing I took away from my early, cursory how to searches was that it was allegedly ‘just like tying your shoes.’  While this was decidedly not the case, it was enough information that we ultimately stumbled upon a passable knot.

Fully clad and tied, I headed back to the synagogue for the service.  Our program included an explanation of the symbolism associated with various traditional aspects of the ceremony, to include the eagerly anticipated glass stomping.  It was a beautiful service, then we migrated towards the Westin Galleria for the reception.  Why there is a Westin Post Oak less than a mile away from the Westin Galleria is beyond me, but after a detour through Sacks Fifth Avenue, I found the place.  Top floor.  Gorgeous view.  Full bar.  What else do I need to say?  Well, you know brevity has never been my strong suit, so I’ll find more to say.  There was assigned seating and Leanne, bless her heart, put me at the table with all her bridesmaids.  Great band, featuring Mr. Shawn Jackson for a few numbers.  I knew he had the chops to hang with anyone, but he impressed with his pipes as well, singing a couple numbers.

Everything was in place.  Gorgeous and elegant, but my evening wouldn’t be complete until I saw people hoisted and carried around in chairs.  The evening did not disappoint.  I didn’t realize that my proximity to the bride and groom when the chairs were slid in their direction would place me at the bottom of one hoisting Leanne in the air.  Her brother, Shawn, got a little carried away on the back end and launched her.  All of a sudden, the chair was lighter and Leanne was back on the dance floor.  Fortunately brides, like cats, always land on their feet and all was well.  In a move even cooler than the chairs, immediately following that someone showed up with a tablecloth.  Once the edges were filled with sturdy guys, the bride and groom each were individually placed in the center of the cloth and launched skyward.  Both of them are on the lighter side, and we had a lot of muscle on the bottom so, before you knew it, Shawn was having to push off the ceiling with his hands to keep from smacking his head.

About the time I was heading home from the reception,  my Dad was waking up across town to start smoking our early Thanksgiving turkey.  It turned out amazing.  Good to see everyone.  Had to squeeze some extra niece bonding time in before she left for Korea.  Look at her.  So precocious.  Not even a year old yet and she can pack her own Cope.  I couldn’t do that until I was two.

The final installment of this chapter involves my early Christmas present.  I love Texas.  Step into Academy Sports and outdoors.  Walk out thirty minutes later with a Mossberg 935 12 gauge  shotgun.  After a quick stop next door at Spek’s Liquor Warehouse for some Shiner 99, I’m on the plane to Nashville.  First time I’ve flown with a gun and it wasn’t too bad.  Of course, leaving Houston, I’m sure the fine folks at George Bush Intercontinental airport have it down pat.

Thanks Shawn and Leanne for such a wonderful weekend!  Mazel Tov!

Updates

Well, as usual, I am blaming my prolonged absence on qualifying-exam related busines.  Fortunately, that’s over with – passed and done.  Unfortunately, it’s to be replaced with lab-related business.  No more classes, no more exams, (no more excuses).  As of now, I am the only obstacle to timely success.  So, this means entering the dreaded living in lab phase of graduate school.  It’s not all bad.  As I’m getting to set my daily routine, I’ve been pretty successful in integrating daily gym time which.  Looking back on one of my more productive periods, on my Kosovo deployment all I really did was work 12-14 hours a day, work out, and sleep.  Same thing six or seven days a week.  Once I got into the swing of it, it wasn’t  nearly as miserable as it probably sounds.  Don’t think I’m headed to quite to that extreme, but I’ll be much closer to that than my ‘usual routine’  since I’ve been here, whatever exactly that is.

After passing the exam, I took off with my pops to visit his folks in Iowa.  We met in Kansas City and drove up to Marshalltown, Iowa from there.  I was pleasantly surprised to find that he had my niece, Peyton, with him.  He didn’t kidnap the poor girl.  My sister and brother-in-lab are both in the Air Force.  He’s in Korea for a year, and she’s got to spend a month at Wright-Patterson AFB in Ohio, so Peyton’s hanging with the grandparents.  She’s still got a great personality – all smiles.  Very happy baby just on the verge of being able to walk.  Her and my sister are visiting Nashville early next month – I can’t wait.

My Uncle Mark has been doing a Fall festival out at his farm for the last eight years.  Bonfire, hay rack ride, some hiking, shooting, etc.  Good times had by all.  Check out Peyton on her great-great-grandfather’s 1949 John Deer B.  Still runs great.

Last Friday afternoon, I decided before it got too cold I needed to go camping instead of just talking about wanting to go camping.  So I loaded up a few things and took off for the Natchez Trace.  Ended up at a camp site near the grave of Meriwether Lewis.  In spite of having a horrible first name, he was kinda a badass.  No Theodore Roosevelt, mind you, but  he’s up there.  Oh, I guess I never got around to posting that Theodore Roosevelt is my new hero and why.  You’ll have to look forward to that coming soon.  That’s the update in a nutshell. 

Due for my annual gross injury

As promise, the Kentucky hole in shin story… Prior to heading to Denver, an Army buddy of mine invited me up to Louisville for a weekend on a friend’s boat. Upon my return from Colorado got a call from him that there would be a slight change of venue to Murray, Kentucky but the boat was still on and the lake was actually better. This took about an hour off of my drive so, it was good with me. At this point I was still in limbo at my new house – living in a spare bedroom with sub-optimal air conditioning while a girl was still moving out of the room I’m in now. So, a weekend away at a reasonable sleeping temperature sounded great.

Drive out there was fairly uneventful. Texted a grad school buddy from Paducah, KY that I was heading up that way. He immediately replied with instructions to pull over and buy beer at my earliest opportunity as I would be unable to do so once I reached Murray. Glad he was focused on the important things.

The first evening we went to a party at a friend’s fairly uneventful, save the fact that it was wholly depressing that it was a themed “90’s Party.” Really? Saturday morning rolls around – boat day, what I’ve been waiting for. With an additional tag along (the host of the party the night before), our number exceeded the capacity of the boat. Not to worry, we had an alternate boat backup planned. The day is dragging on as we’re waiting on the captain of the second boat to sell a truck so we can hit the water. As we’re getting ready to roll out, she decided that it’s late enough that she no longer wants to go. Without going into too many details, she ended up blowing the plans for both of the boats. I’m a little peeved at this point, since that’s the reason I drove up that way. To at least salvage part of the day and get wet and sunny, we head out to the pool of the Murray Country Club. Within minutes of arriving, I get a call from friends in Nashville letting me know they had rented a boat and wanted to know if I wanted to join them on the lake. You can imagine that I’m fuming at this point.

One positive thing about the pool was that it had a decent diving board. It wasn’t quite the gold standard Duafirm, but it looked pretty legit. You can’t tell to look at me now, but I actually dove 1M and 3M springboard competitively in college. Since it looked like I real board, I decided to do some real dives. Things were going fairly smoothly and I’m going down one of my easier lists and get to the ole’ inward pike. All in well on my approach, a few bounces in I’m going for my press. At the bottom, my toes slipped off the board and it recoiled right into my shins. The right leg got off pretty easy, but I’m pretty sure I took the corner of the board on the left. It was pretty deep with little patch of gristle (aka subcutaneous fat) hanging out of it.

Fast forward to Monday, I swing by student health to let them have a peak (and request some broad spectrum antibiotics since I did make it on the boat with the Nashville crew and couldn’t resist jumping into the lake). Based upon my dressing of the wound and my description of it, the doc seeing me pauses as she’s removing the dressing and muses about how I’ve either had formal training in this area or hurt myself quite a bit. I chuckled and informed her that it was a little bit of both. Got some dressings and some antibiotics and was on my way. Definitely took several days for the bruising to set in. It’s nice and pretty now, but filling in and moving steadily in the right direction.

It’s definitely putting a damper in my attempts at increasing my basal activity level this summer, but in a week or so I should be back running and on the bike – a little longer until I can make a return to the pool.

Rocky Mountain EPR Fever

This has been a great week, especially considering I am in the throes of my doctoral candidacy exam. Last Sunday through Thursday I was in Breckenridge, Colorado for the Electron Paramagnetic Resonance (EPR) Symposium of the Rocky Mountain Conference on Analytical Chemistry. I don’t think I talked about my last scientific meeting, at the Cold Spring Harbor Laboratory, at the level of detail it deserved. It was great and I may have to post a retrospective account. That meeting had a number of researchers employing a variety of techniques to investigate one area -molecular chaperones and stress responses. My most recent meeting was of investigators using one technique, EPR, to study a variety of problems ranging from biomedical applications similar to my own all the way to materials science. The various sessions dedicated to these niche specialties meant there were times I got great exposure to relevant material and other times where things were so far from my discipline that we could run off to go sightseeing or mountain biking without feeling guilty about missing anything. My PhD advisor was the chair and organizer of the meeting, so I just followed is recommendations on what to attend and what okay to skip.

It was quite warm, but amazingly in dry climates sweating actually performs the intended cooling function instead of just accumulating and making you miserable. Denver was in the process of breaking a number of heat-related records. Other highlights include the observed wildlife list: bighorn sheep, deer, and two red fox. I also made acquaintances with Jim Hyde, my scientific grandfather. That is, the PhD advisor of my PhD advisor. He’s one of the original researchers to apply EPR to biomedical problems as well as a pioneer in developing functional MRI. Interesting guy with a great sense of humor. I’ll have to be sure to pump him for more dirt on my boss as a graduate student when I see him next. The man has a research empire which is currently fully funded through his 81st birthday.

Several members of my lab and my advisor’s family went on a nice bike ride from Breckenridge to Frisco, a little under a twenty mile round trip. I was tasked with making the appropriate reservations and arrangements for the trip. The various members of my lab in attendance came with an assortment of spouses, mothers, siblings, and children in tow. I was the only one to come to the meeting without any such attachments. The list of those attending the bike ride varied by the hour up to and including the fifteen minutes leading up to our departure. We attempted to accommodate everyone in the group on a bike in some manner. This included the pretty standard approach of towing kiddos in various trailers to me driving my boss’ mother around on a tandem bicycle. This proved to be a little challenging with only one of us pedaling and was ultimately abandoned. Given the grade and turns of the trail ahead, that was probably for the best.

View Larger Map

The last day of our conference overlapped with the first day of some Corvette owner’s convention at the same resort. So, the nice cars started trickling as the week progressed. There was one covered older model that I had to take a peek at (picture to follow once I get to another computer). In fact, we have to relocate for next year’s meeting as the Corvette owners are taking our time slot. Apparently, they spend more money (read: drink more at the resort bar). I tried to do my part to represent the scientific community at the bar. While I was trying to get recommendations for places to go in town from the bartender at the downstairs bar, another one of the bartenders who had been working various receptions associated with our meeting came to the bar. She told bartender #1 that I was her favorite here because I had the most to drink. Upon seeing me becoming slightly embarrassed, she quickly reassured me that it was okay to be the one drinking the most in a group of analytical chemists, stressing that it’s not like I’m the guy drinking the most at a NASCAR event.

Also of note, on our way home a semi full of gravel literally split in half on the road ahead of us emptying 50,000 lbs of rocks on the road. Here’s some air news video. We didn’t witness the actual breakup of the trailor, but were upon the scene before the cleanup crews and fortunately before I-70 turned into a parking lot. Initially, traffic slowed unexpectedly in front of us. There was quite a bit of rock. Then we see the orphened ass-end of a gravel trailor. Several hundred yards later is the other half, still attached to the truck. Not something you encounter every day.

The original plan was for this post to include info on a trip to Kentucky, putting a massive hole in my shin through a diving board mishap, and subsequently being placed on broad-spectrum antibiotics following a lake excursion with said hole in shin. This is already growing lengthy, so I’ll save all that and try to get it up here in the next couple days.

Small World Hippie Coffee

Dragging myself into lab yesterday morning, my first stop was the breakroom to fire up that first pot of coffee. Lately my boss has been experimenting with a few different brands. I pull a brown ‘Ruta Maya’ bag off the shelf, dump some beans in the hopper of the grinder, and fire it up. Gee, there was a place of the same name right by my old place in South Austin. When I say, ‘right by’ I mean it. As you can see to the left, The Google shows a 670 foot straight line shot door to door. Turns out, my lab coffee was indeed from this same Ruta Maya.

This place was…interesting. Great coffee, served beer and wine, and had a cigar shop. I was about to describe the crowd as eclectic, but that wouldn’t be accurate. It was fairly homogenously hippie-infested. Yeah, every independent coffee shop has some degree of ‘hipster’ element. I’m not talking about some guy with dreads and tie dye in the corner, or a beatnik with a beret reading Kerouac. No, my friends, we’re talking shirtless, shoeless hippies with their shirtless, shoeless hippie kids beating on bongos until the wee hours of the morning. Here’s a sampling of the weekly classes offered in addition to the music and poetry slam: Tai Chi; Qi Gong (whatever that is); yoga; a hypnosis workshop; and, my favorite, ‘medical terminology, Latin tutorial & English word power.’

I wasn’t really aware of how my time in Austin expanded my horizons what was, if not ‘normal’ to see at least not bizarre enough for me to give a second thought. Hell, we had a cross-dressing homeless guy, when not on 6^th street sporting a leopard thong, runs for Mayor every election. I was in attendance as Leslie debated the other mayoral candidates at Saint Edward’s. Good times. One evening I took a friend from my original undergraduate institution, Southwestern University, to Ruta Maya. Southwestern is in the tiny town of Georgetown, Texas also known for the Sun City retirement community. Williamson County was rumored to have more people employed by law enforcement agencies per capita than anywhere else in Texas. My fact checker is taking the week off. Whether this stat is true or not, the frequency with which it is referenced alone tells you a little about the kind of place I’m talking about. Don’t think Leslie would be pulling 2,755 votes there. So, we walk in and there is some kind of drum circle going on with people writing to the beat. As I’m strolling to the bar, there is this firm grip on my forearm. I turn to see my friend, eyes wide, proclaiming that we needed to get out of there. Guess it isn’t for everyone. Guess I didn’t realize how the years there inured me to sites like this. Apparently, I wasn’t there long enough, because I still wasn’t quite ready for Berkeley when I went on grad school interviews there.

The coffee is still great and I’ll have to see if I can’t get my boss to settle on this one. Nice bit of nostalgia, if you can be nostalgic about a place you left two years ago. I never noticed the mellow, earthy undertones that didn’t have the potency to fight through the wafting patchouli.

Weddings, III

I thought this mini-series was done, then I stumbled on this gem:

From xkcd.com Click to Enlarge

My new place

Last few weeks have been particularly busy – working on my department doctoral candidacy examination and trying to find a new place to live. My lease is up at the end of July. It’s going to be tough to leave. As anyone who has been there can attest, it’s got a lot of character. In a good way. Spacious, lots of brick and exposed stone (which has been alternatively described as giving it a tavern or dungeon feel). Quite a steal for being across the street from campus. Why would you want to leave, you may ask? One would only ask this question if that haven’t hung out there in the last calendar year. I got a couple new roommates there, rando med students. One of them was really cool and the other really….wasn’t. Definitely altered the dynamic of living at the ole’ Westboro. Temper-tantrums about the noise of people talking in the living room before midnight on a Saturday is a pretty big no-go in my book.

Without elaborating on all the reasons why I can’t wait for release from my current living arrangement, let me quickly tell you how great this new place is. It’s over by Belmont University, a little less than two miles door to door to my lab. Still walkable, but I’ll probably be biking when the weather is appropriate. It’s in a cool little area up the road from Bongo Java – several little bars and restaurants nearby. I’d say it’s the same distance, in the opposite direction, as I was from Hillsboro Village from my old place. The plus side is I’m now a similar short distance to 12 South, which occasionally seemed ‘far’ from my old location. I will miss being able to walk a couple blocks to Centennial Park and Springwater, but there are plenty of nearby places to make up for that. Football season will be tougher not being across the street from the tailgate area and stadium, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.

The place is pretty big. According to the Davidson County Property Assessment, it was built ca 1910, 2100 finished square feet with a 26’ x 34’ attached garage, 11 total rooms – 4 bedroom, 4 bath. I’ll have a large upstairs room with a bathroom attached. There are only three occupants, the fourth, small bedroom is reserved for visiting guests or revelers who need to pass out. I was greeted by a keg-o-rater in direct line of sight from the front door, which put to rest any lingering reservations shaped from my last year about making sure I found roommates who actually hung out.

Needless to say, there will be some kind of farewell bash at the old place and, more importantly, a housewarming at the new one. I’ll keep you posted.