A few days ago, I moved to a great location in Berkeley, between downtown & the “gourmet ghetto.” Since then, I have been gleefully enjoying my neighborhood–one I was previously familiar with, but always drove in to, hasseled with parking, and felt like a visitor in. After just three nights here, it feels like home.

In the mornings I have enjoyed walking either a block or several to various different coffee shops for my morning espresso and (sometimes) croissant. I’m on a mission to find the best one; on lazy days (I’ve had a few since graduating this past Saturday from college, while working only about 25 hours a week right now–know somewhere I could be employed full time?) I stumble two and a half blocks down my VERY street to a wonderful cupcakery (which I will write about seperately tomorrow or the next day), walk with my ipod to a nearby gourmet grocery, to various Indian, Thai, French, Spanish, Japanese restaurants, to the famous Chez Panisse, to the famous Cheeseboard Collective where I bought two delicious flavored rolls this morning for my lunch and dinner endeavors–I am still unpacking or I would have taken photos of all these trips, of my cooking lately.

Some of you may know my last living situation was less than stellar. The crazed, rude, and frankly dumb girls I shared a kitchen with made it completely inhabitable with both their filth and their unpleasant, constant, tv-blaring presence. I am so relieved to have sane roomates and a big, cooking-friendly kitchen that you’ll be seeing a lot more of me in coming days.

Best of all I’ve been able to walk to several of my friends’ houses, been able to walk to meet them at one of my favorite dancing spots (a pleasant urban 12 minute walk from home, and 15 minute drunken stupor back), my favorite east-bay pizzaria, and a variety of other high quality businesses that encourage socialization.

Though my existence as BROKE is impending, it’s a happy, happy time.