I live in New Haven, Connecticut

Yay! I have Internet access! Plus, I like exclaiming the obvious. I wonder how people from hundreds of years ago got by without the Internet. Maybe they didn't get by, and that's why they're all dead. Now that I’m hooked up I intend to embark on a series of adventures with specific destinations, as opposed to aimlessly driving around and ending up in danger. Fortunately, the bad part of town does not appear to be directly outside my door, which is not something I could have said at my last apartment in Dallas, where I was accosted by a transvestite prostitute while taking a walk on a Sunday afternoon. But that’s a story for another time.

It was a short drive into New Haven on Saturday. I tawt I taw the Long Island Sound, which did not strike me as a body of water into which people would likely enter willingly. I was relieved to get into my new apartment, and very thankful for what I saw there – it’s so beautiful! I took the above photograph from the bathroom, and it captures part of one of the bedrooms and the foyer on the right, and part of the dining room and living room on the left. Out of view is the kitchen to the right, and my bedroom to the left (pictured at left). Clearly I’m ready to entertain, as long as my guest doesn’t want both of us to be seated comfortably simultaneously. The apartment will be furniture-free until the movers arrive Thursday, and it will be woman-free until my roommate Susan arrives in two weeks. The view to the north (pictured) is a pleasure. I’m curious about how old those houses are. They sure look nice. I also am curious about how many other people over hundreds of years have been in my position, moving onto this very street or perhaps this very apartment to go to grad school two blocks away. Maybe Indra Nooyi, a Yale SOM alumna and CEO of Pepsi, lived here and sat where I'm sitting, on the floor, drinking a Coke. The idea, though almost certainly untrue, makes me feel kinda special.

I semi-explored on foot today with the limited time I had before needing to be home to wait for the Internet installer. I bought some staples at a market/deli a couple blocks from my apartment, called Manna’s. Small, with a slim selection, but charming, thanks to Chong, the gregarious woman who checked me out and guessed right away that I was a new student. (I assume she gathered that because I still look like a healthy, fresh-faced 20-something, not because I had a lost, confused expression.) She’s lived in New Haven for five years and says she loves it. She was excited to tell me how they make their chicken cutlet sandwiches, and that I must return to try one, and that I should go shopping for shoes in nearby Hamden, and that if I had any questions about the city I should come ask her. Score one for Northeasterners being friendly! Two, actually, including the Internet guy. Take that, regional stereotypography.

It’s been fun to unpack what I brought in my car and hang a couple things on the wall, and note that despite my best efforts, I neglected to pack a few things I could probably use, like a can opener, or companionship. Rest assured, though, that I have three corkscrews, five tubes of Chap Stick, two umbrellas, four pairs of scissors and about 25 pens. And a vase, in case anyone sends flowers.