The past few weeks have been….interesting, to say the least.

When we moved to Colorado we did so with the intent of living with my brother until our condo was rebuilt. At the time we were assuming that would be about a year. As it stands now, our “condo” is still nothing more then a box of air hovering casually above some dirt. ETA is now slated for June of ‘08, still nearly a year away. The house my brother has been renting for the past three years decided to raise the rent $300 a month. So he decided to move. More specifically, he decided to buy a house. Not wanting to impose, Colin and I have decided to move out on our own.

“How will you afford it?!” you say.

To that, I have no answer.

After weeks of scouring craigslist, and touring hundreds of closet sized rooms passing themselves off as “Large Studios” we finally found a little place to call home. We were under pretty strict constraints. No more then $600 a month including utilities and pleased to allow cats. You would not believe how nearly impossible that is. Not even in the ghetto of Colfax.

Somehow we managed to find an up/down duplex with nearly 800 square feet of living space, a kitchen that will allow me to continue my bakery, in a really nice part of Denver, and absolutely no problem with cats, for only $525. I don’t know how we did it. I guess a little hard work and persistence does actually pay off. My parents were right all along!

I can’t tell you how excited I am. I LOVE Boulder. I pink puffy heart Boulder. But, there is something about cities that draws me in. I don’t know if it has to do with my growing up in London, or if it’s just part of my DNA, but I crave cities. I look at this move as my last chance to live in a downtown urban oasis. When we do eventually buy another house (You know, by like 2016) it will more then likely be in a cookie cutter suburb somewhere with absolutely nothing of interest in a five mile radius. Not because that’s what we want, but because that’s what finances will dictate. So living in Denver seems like my last chance at walking down the block to the local coffee shop to grab a chai and sit outside to lazily gaze at passers-by. My last chance to catch that spur of the moment Slim Cessna show at the Bluebird. My last chance to shop at the eccentric Cooks Fresh Market where exotic foods like Yaks cheese are de rigour. I guess in a way I see it as the end of my middle years. After this it’ll be all suburbs and playdates and minivans.

So while I am freaking out about trying to budget for both a mortgage and rent, I can’t help but be over the moon with excitement about our upcoming relocation. Now if I could only get someone to do all my packing for me…