New digs

Thanks to my awesome cousin Kerry, I got settled into my new apartment yesterday in less than four hours. For the past month, I’ve dreaded the move, so I can finally rest easy knowing the tedious process is over. The whole ordeal exhausted and stressed me out so much that I slept like a baby on my air mattress last night. Don’t tell my mom, but this temporary bed situation suits me well. I have no incentive to spend a thousand dollars on a mattress and frame, so maybe I’ll stick to the blow-up bed for another month until I get around to shopping for a real one.

The new place brings a nostalgic sense of comfort, as it reminds me of my college apartment complex. The units are modern and large, which I’m familiar with (although I love the character of old houses and residences). My first post-college apartment was old school, tiny, and impersonal, so it’s nice to feel like I’m back in my UA home again. Though I enjoyed the Falls Church place, the gray hallways reminded me of that chilling, unforgettable scene in “The Shining” and alternated between smelling like a rotten corpse and Thanksgiving dinner. It’s liberating to stroll through my new apartment building without having to plug my nose.

The next purchases will be Internet service, a lamp, a dresser, a kitchen table, and a nightstand. For now, my coffee table is serving as a substitute nightstand.

I’m going to a funeral this weekend. The son of CNN editor John DeDakis, who was my mentor and professor when I first came to D.C., was found dead on Saturday. With the earthquake and hurricane, last week was devastating for the east coast, but the natural disasters pale in comparison to the DeDakis family tragedy. John is one of the nicest people in journalism and legitimately cares about each student that comes his way at American University, so I’m trying to wrap my head around the fact that the worst loss imaginable happened to such a good person. His sister died in 1980, so unfortunately death in the immediate family isn’t a foreign concept to DeDakis. I’m of the belief that these sort of events don’t happen to those who can’t handle them, so I know John, his wife, and his two other children will survive this. The road, seemingly endless, will eventually smooth out. I’m here to help with the potholes and speed bumps.

As noted on the Stephen DeDakis Facebook page, you can help keep his memory alive by donating to the Sitar Arts Center in his name.

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