Moving

It has been hard finding time to write about my fantastic trip to Rome because I have been in the middle of a move. And it hasn't been an easy one. You would think, having moved exactly 8 times in my 8 years of marriage (and double that in my life in general) that I would be an expert. But I have decided that only thing you can really ever know about moving is that things will go wrong, important things will be forgotten, and no matter how much you plan and work your ass off to make it all go perfectly smooth - it won't.

But this move takes the cake. I suppose that is only fair since for the first time in my life I have moved into a dwelling that I absolutely love. I mean, its my dream flat. Seriously.

Of course its seems even more dreamy because we just moved out of our worst nightmare - neighbors who loved to complain to us (and about us - the the police and the landlord), Landlords who quite honestly hated us (and weren't afraid to show their disdain) and a gorgeous terrace that we weren't allowed to BBQ on. I think that might be the definition of hell. Of course, the hell really started when we decided to do them all a favor and move out. I will save you the sordid details and just sum up by saying this: everything we have tried to do right has been horribly wrong. Every time we tried to solve a problem, it only made it worse. When all is said and done, this move across town will have cost us more money, not to mention more time and effort, than moving from Seattle to Berlin did. Which makes it all the more miraculous that we somehow managed to take a trip to Rome and entertain family from the states in the middle of it all.

I think it is safe to say: I NEVER WANT TO MOVE AGAIN. EVER. Luckily I am in a apartment and neighborhood I never want to leave! Of course this probably all means we will end up having to change jobs and move back to the states after a year, that seems to be the way things go for us right?