Well, That Wasn't Too Bad, After All. 21-day flu completely banished from my system, my new room in some sort of order, all-logic-to-the-contrary-increasingly-difficult job...well, they pay me every Friday, and I need the money, and the sun was briefly shining this morning and things are looking ever-so-slightly up! Okay, granted, I ended up in an incredibly crowded and stress-inducing Central-NJ mall/restaurant (featuring a one-hour-plus wait for a table at three in the afternoon!) for my brother's birthday and my morning's happiness quickly transmogrified into a snarling tenseness, but as long as I felt worry-free for an hour I can feel it again; that's my motto!

Yes, worry-free and even a certain anticipation. Sure, I really loved the Pulaski-Skyway-overlooking Brunswick Towers, my home for almost three years (and which was almost my home for even longer until a certain series of events took place which I really can't get into in this forum but ask me when you see me), but I had forgotten just how exciting it was to move to a brand-new area, with all the discovery and exploration that goes along with that. And two weeks after I moved in, today I finally had the chance to walk around my new neighborhood to find what I've gotten myself into.

First off, this part of town has a little more historic interest than my old area, with the oldest continuous school site in the U.S., a Revolutionary War strategy meeting-place between General Washington and Major General de Lafayette, a couple of centuries-old cemeteries, and some interesting church architecture. There's a homemade chocolate shop (too crowded to check out this day before Easter), a record store specializing in old soul, and of course a pile of 99-cent shops and the like. And it's also a little refreshing to have some non-Indian (or sketchy Chinese) food options available. In a really sweet turn of events there's an Ethiopian restaurant a few blocks from my house, one which prominently features a review from Amy Wilson by way of Tris McCall on its front window. There's a decent looking Vietnamese place and a Cuban bakery, and even closer to home there's a 24-hour place serving what must upwards of 100 different cheap fried foods, perfect after those 3 a.m. walks home from the PATH train.

Okay, it ain't all great. I've been woken up more times by street noise this week than in the last six months, and parking can be almost impossible to find some nights. And there are just way too many Jesuits hanging around the neighborhood. But what is parking trouble when compared to mystery and anticipation? Not much at all, I say.