The wait is over

We got the flat.

Thank Effing God! I was starting to rattle and shake from nerves, like a punked out old car in its last throes of life. I was really worried that the Gods of Cool would see right through me, know that I was not hip enough for such a sweet joint, and throw a wrench in the works. No matter how much you pretend and dress yourself up in your own personal version of hip, once a dork always a dork. And I am the Uber dork. (Is there a twelve step program for dorks? If so, tell me where.)

But yeah, we got the flat. SWEEET!

Groovy gatherings and cocktail parties to come. I need to start wearing tight 60's dresses and stiletto heels.*

(*Note to self: learn to walk in heels.)
(*Additional note to self: Might want to learn how to walk without falling over in flat shoes, first.)
(*Additional additonal note to self: Do they do training wheels for stilettos? That might be an option.)
(**Addendum to additional notes: Drink less coffee.)