I've added Wai Lana and Margaret Richard to my daily routine (Day 71)

What? You think it isn't worthy to blog about? You are, like, so totally wrong.

I'm finding my new Washington routine evolve ever so slowly, and it goes something like this:

1) Get up. Make breakfast for self, baby.
2) Play with baby; put baby in for morning nap.
3) Job search; apply for jobs; don't think about chances of getting job as economy is crap. (Maybe I'm crap? No! Patience is a virtue, a virtue, dammit! You are a strong, beautiful woman with a tight little booty, which does not really help. In the professions I'm considering.)
4) Turn on PBS and do workout with Margaret Richard even though I'm not "40 and Fabulous." She kicks my ass anyway, which is disturbing in and of itself.
5) Take bath with Ollie while Wai Lana does her yoga thang in background. Am totally into her trippy dance to end yoga workout. Think Wai Lana may be on to something. (Or on something?) Not sure what but she cheers me to no end.
6) Go to park. Run after baby as he runs after others and eats junk off dirt, or just dirt.
7) Run errands.
8) Make lunch. Make smoothies!! Try not to eat rest of Ben & Jerry's FroYo.
9) Baby nap; more job apply. Feel self-esteem leech out of soul, into chair.
10) Maybe watch Bernie Mac. I love Bernie, America.
11) Baby waketh! Take baby to play with baby friend around the corner.
12) Bring baby home; make dinner. Can take pride in asparagus soup. I make fine asparagus soup.
13) Give baby dinner; feed husband; put baby to bed.
14) Lather, rinse, repeat

Must leave city. Must leave city...(Day 70)

It's too big! Too crowded! I'm constantly asking myself if I should move the baby's crib away from the window because you never know if a stray bullet will come through the window.

Not really a joke in our neighborhood, although only one or two people in our building have actually been shot. (All survived.)

So, even though we can't afford to sell our house, I panic attacked my way through the classifieds and said to hubby, "What's the harm of checking out neighborhoods? You know, just to see..."

Which brought us to Kensington, it's darling antique row, and an equally darling man whom I'm guessing is named Sandro.

It's a lovely place to visit, but, oh my God, Sandro...He let me try on $10,000 necklaces, spoke at length about attractive cleavages, gossiped about how Sharon Stone wore one of his necklaces and DIDN'T GIVE IT BACK, and did I mention the $10,000 NECKLACES???

I don't know what casual bling y'all have hanging around the crib, but in these here neck of the woods, the closest I've ever gotten to jewelry in that price range is one to two feet. There's me. There's the thick glass and security alarms.

And here's this lovely older gentleman, talking about his craft and proudly displaying his finer work. Age and arthritis don't allow him to create anymore, so he waits until an enthusiastic shopper comes across his threshold.

We wandered in right in the middle of inventory, and I swear to the good Lord above, if hubby and baby weren't there, I would have volunteered my services and sat my ass down between him and his daughters and helped right on out. Just to touch the jewelry.

Why, oh why, didn't I get a picture?

Ha! You thought maybe I gave up??? (Day 69)

Nope. I'm a crazy maverick and thought I'd tease you with anticipation! Do you feel well and truly seduced?

Actually, this move was a whopper, and we're still suffering from the fallout. Meaning.

We're broke and close to broken. And we still won't have our stuff for a month.

I've lost my friends. Actually, my best friend. My job. My adorable little town. And everything familiar.

I've gained an apartment situated on a LOUD alley, heavily used by police cars, trash trucks, and other assorted commercial vehicles. I swear it was not this way when we left. Or, maybe, my tough city girl skin is still soft from all that lush verdant QUIET English country life. Probably that.

And forget the job situation. What crappy choices I have.

If I were to put a positive spin on the madness, I can say it's nice to live so close to so many intriguing little shops. Our neighborhood got a lot cooler while we were gone. I could just say we live in an undisclosed location of Northwest DC, but I will be a little more specific and name the neighborhood. Drum roll please....We live in Logan Circle.

Yeah, I know. It is a little too cool for us. Believe me, the coolness happened around us, and we just bask in it, slack-jawed and kinda geekily staring...

Anyway. I'm going to push on with this project of mine. I'll get to 365 days even if I happen to skip a few days. Or a month.

So, here is Ol in our apartment. Forgive the mess. He's talking on the telephone to someone very important, I'm sure.

Cause I needed a laugh. (Day 68)

The China Syndrome, totally the scariest movie ever! (Day 67)

Thank you, Channel 4! Something to take my mind off the tedium and panic of the move--and all of the thank you cards I must send and those thank-you chocolate chip cookies in the oven.

Look at the young Jack Lemmon! "I knew the vibration wasn't normal."

And the young Jane Fonda!

OMG! "The nuclear reactor is going to blow, and I'm not even a real investigative reporter yet!"

It's "nuc-u-lar," right Richard, ahem, Michael Douglas?

Eesh! China Syndrome.

I'm so excited I almost burnt mah cookies.

Good-bye party Raj Douth, Cambridgeshire (Day 66)

And so my NCT mommies said their goodbye's.

I am so sick of goodbye's.

I want this to be over. Yet, I find myself hit by incredible inertia. I may never leave this couch. Maybe the movers can just pack me in with all of the other furniture?

I'll be fine with my ipod and a small television.

I'm gonna get you, doggie...(Day 63)

We so lucked out that fateful Thanksgiving eve when we adopted Veli. Our little Bosnian street pup has the most fantastic temperment. Although she's knocked me to my knees on countless occasions, she's always so careful with Ollie.

Ol wrestling away Vel's blue teddy.

To all outward appearances. (Day 62)

We're fine. Not panicked. Not stressed.

At least he's not stressed.

He'll never remember England, which makes me sad, as I have so many memories.

When I was first pregnant and could barely make it out of bed, I would take the dog for her morning walk around this park.

When I entered my blissful second trimester, I would take the dog for more leisurely strolls. In the park. In the fields...I'd tuck my ipod into some part of my expanding waistline and tune into a Suspense podcast or Norah Jones or even Russell Brand.

You heard me. Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.

Not seeing these places again...That's hard. I felt the same way about leaving Bosnia, the mountains, and my morning walks around Bentbasa. They were such a part of my life, gave me structure when I had none, gave me routine and beauty. Apart from dear M., I will miss all of this the most.

Here's to finding something new and special.