I am now officially a Wonderland-area blogger, and I couldn't be happier about it. Well, not happy about the racing dogs per se, but about having managed to get all my belongings extricated from my former homestead and installed in my new beachside pad.

Okay, so installed might be a rather optimistic way of describing things. That word probably connotes a more settled and organized arrangement of my belongings than what I currently have going on. Inserted, maybe. Delivered, certainly. Settled or organized? Not even close.

Still, my address has changed. If I haven't given you the new address or phone number yet, and you think you know me well enough that you believe you're entitled to it, please e-mail me (the link is in the left-hand column, near the top) and tell me enough about yourself that I can make a decent judgment about whether I should share my personal info with you.

Keep in mind that I have ways of keeping the riff-raff out of my new place, and those ways are big, brawny, and wear matching navy blue blazers.

I won't bore you with the details of the move, or with the stupid fact that I went back to work yesterday only to discover that I had requested it as a vacation day and it was only guilt and/or stupidity that kept me from walking right back out the door once I realized my mistake. I won't even subject you to Olivia's woeful reaction to this, her first ever change of address. (If you've talked to me in real life in the past 5 days, you've already heard the sad tale anyway.) The important things for you to know are (a) I can hear the waves breaking on the shore at Revere Beach from my window, (2) I've been doing laundry in my very own in-unit machines pretty much non-stop since I moved in, and (iii) I have not only entered the 21st century and subscribed to cable television, but I also got a DVR. If not for the beach calling to me, I would never leave my apartment again.

Oh, and there's that pesky work thing.