Sailing and underpants: a long-winded blog post that may or may not be worth your time.

Isn’t summer supposed to be the season when you just relax, sipping on cold drinks while lounging in the sun, listening to Paolo Nutini?  Apparently not.  Between the coursework from the two-week intensive I took in June, the two other intensive classes I’m working on this month, the two jobs I have at Regent, and the random weekend trips here and there, this summer has been jam-packed FULL.  Oh…and did I mention our garden?  That usually sucks up AT LEAST a few minutes per day.  Exhausting, I tell you.

I am proud to report, however, that we did carve out some time for a special visit south of the border in order to celebrate the 4th of July.  you can take our money with your expensive wine and cheese, Canada, but you’ll never take OUR FREEDOM!

We drove down Saturday morning with a few good friends from Regent for a day of sailing, eating, drinking, laughing, chatting, and relaxing.  We finished the day enjoying the Anacortes fireworks display over the Cap Sante Marina.

Dan and Krista…great friends, lots of laughs.

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Debs…the lovely Brit, fantastic accent, wonderful heart.

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Captain John and Lisa…perfectly relaxing.

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The ladies…

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SAILORS!

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John, with the big finish to “God Bless America”

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The crew.

Glorious.

In other news, because we weren’t sure if July would be frenzied enough, we decided to move to a new apartment!  BECAUSE WE’RE CRAZY!  When we first moved here last summer, we spent two weekends in a row looking for a place to call home.  All we found was one dumpy crap-hole after another.  Finally, we found a lovely apartment that we got really excited about, but we knew we’d be paying more than we’d hoped.  Knowing that our one-year lease was coming to a close, we decided to check craigslist to see if we could find something new that might save us a few dollars.  And we wanted it to be bigger.  And we wanted our own washer and dryer.  And dishwasher.  And storage.  And free parking.  And a location that was closer to school.

With our long list of must-haves in hand, we un-optimistically searched for a few days.  As usual, most of the listings were crap.  The listing for a “cabin-style suite” meant unfinished plywood walls, and the “cozy apartment on the garden level of a character house” meant a 235-square-foot dungeon in the dark, dank basement of a house that might collapse if the neighbors sneeze.  However, the first place that we actually went to view turned out to be exactly what we were looking for.  It’s an apartment in the lower level of a huge and gorgeous house in the Dunbar neighborhood, only moments from campus and directly across the street from a beautiful state park with dozens of hiking trails.  We got a dishwasher, our own washer and dryer, free parking, a few options for storage, a bit more square footage, and a lower price that includes EVERYTHING (even cable and internet!).  It was our very own Christmas Miracle…right in the middle of summer.

After sealing the deal, we called our current landlady–who we love–and told her we’d be moving out on July 31.  She said she’d be sad to see us go, and that she’d give us a call to let us know when she’d come by to show the apartment to new tenants.  She started this past weekend, and when we arrived back from Anacortes we received a message that she’d found someone who was interested.  ”That was easy,” we thought.  But we were wrong.  Oh so very wrong.

Usually, Lisa and I take great care to keep our apartment looking neat and tidy.  This may come as a total surprise to my mother, who gave up on the idea that I would ever have a clean room about 23 years ago, but it’s true.  Particularly when we have guests.  Before we left for the weekend, for example, we cleaned the place up quite nicely, anticipating the handful of strangers who would be viewing our home and making snap-judgements about our personalities and lifestyle that, for some reason, felt terribly important.  When our landlady called on Sunday to let us know she’d rented our suite, we beamed with pride when she complimented our lovely decor.

This morning, however, Lisa and I left the apartment in a somewhat chaotic state.  Typically, the bed is made and the dishes are done and things are generally put away before we go.  Today, however, we were in a bit of a rush after a weekend away, and we left hurriedly without tidying up.  After all, the apartment had been leased…

On the bus ride home, I noticed I had missed a call on my cell phone.  As I listened, Lisa noticed my jaw drop and my eyes widen.  ”What?” she asked.  ”What’s wrong?”

“JoAnn called.  The first deal fell through.  She was calling to say that she showed our apartment today.”

In the elevator on the way to our floor, we tried to remember the state of our apartment when we left it.  We opened the door to find things in an unfortunate state.  The bed was a mess of sheets and comforters, strewn about the room like a tornado had torn through.  Yesterdays outfits were crumpled on the floor.  The camera, which had not yet been put back in it’s proper home, was left instead on my night stand, suggesting some kind of devious and kinky nighttime behavior.  And the worst part of all…the backpack we’d taken on our trip sat in the middle of our living room floor, a single pair of my boxers hanging out of the front zipper pocket, like an animal trying to escape it’s cave.  I can only imagine the faces of our visitors as they were greeted by my underpants when they entered their potential new home.

I’m not sure why it’s so important for us to have a clean and tidy apartment.  Perhaps it’s our pride.  We like to think of it as good hospitality.  Nonetheless, today we were forced to relinquish that control, and allowed complete strangers to glimpse behind the veil of our messy private lives.  And let me tell you, it felt good.

Bottom line: I’m hoping to incorporate dirty underpants as a central feature of our new home decor scheme.  Pictures to come.