Whew. This Friday, with the (massive) help of friends and loved ones, Catherine and I moved out of my old bachelor apartment into a faaabulous new place in scenic Batavia. It's a house that's been converted into two apartments -- one on either side, each with an upstairs and a downstairs -- and I love it dearly.

We're still buried in boxes, we have a daring bring-the-bed-through-a-window project slated for 1PM today, and I'm only online because someone left a wifi network unsecured a few houses away... but oh, what a wonderful place. Old, well-established trees, well-maintained historic houses... I'll have to post pictures soon.

In other news, we took a break from unpacking to see Flight Plan last night. I think the lesson to be learned is this: If you are a criminal, and your plan involves Jodie Foster and her daughter in any way, just go home. Give up. Start work on a new and better plan, because the game is over. Sorry! Panic Room? Flight Plan? Two times makes a pattern. That said, while I was able to find holes in the plot after the fact, the movie really was emotionally gut-wrenching. Good flick.

Also... I really need to figure out what box I packed all my pants in.