Obikaybe

That's what Dr. Cliff Huxtable would say to his scalliwag kids, and I guess it has entered my brain as a catchphrase of sorts, through osmosis during all those years of watching the Cosby Show. It's a nice way to get down to business, serious and lighthearted at the same time.

Obikaybe.

We're moving! I knew this before, of course, and so did you, but this week is a week of action. Last night we went to our new place (dragging random bags of things on public transportation, as I predicted we would) and moved some furniture around, and basically just tried it on for size now that it's ready for us to arrive. Today will be a day of collecting boxes, and filling them up, and we may even go to the new place to spend the night.

Moving is exciting for several reasons, but one of the reasons I like it best is that you get to arrange everything, to find just the right place for objects to live. I like unpacking suitcases and putting away clean dishes for the same reason: it's all about putting things in their places. Everything gets to be organized, you see. Forgive me if my tidy side is making too much of an appearance.

Obikaybe.

We were in Barcelona this weekend, and had a lovely time with the Mister's family. The best part was arriving; Barcelona, the place in and of itself, makes me unaccountably happy. M's father picked us up from the airport, and as we had to pick something up in the city before heading to the outskirts, we made our way through a succession of neighborhoods to avoid the beltway traffic. I just watched the streets unfold, charmed to pieces by the happy bustle and stroll of so many people. At seven pm, everybody and their brother is out, just for the sake of being out, and all of the stores are open and beckoning. In contrast, if you drove through the outlying neighborhoods of Brussels at seven pm, you might think that the plague had suddenly struck everybody dead.

But, as my new French teacher said today (started a new semester! taking a morning class! fulfilling new year's resolution to get up earlier!), Brussels is a city that requires you to suss out its secrets (er, but she said it in French). In Barcelona, everything is at your feet begging for you in warm, glowy colors. Here, you have to nibble away at the rocky gray surface before finding its chocolate--or perhaps beer-flavored--center.

I think I just mixed a lot of metaphors, but I need to go pack some boxes, so we're going to have to live with it.

Obikaybe.