Hey everyone,

Ben here. After my housemates let the proverbial new years ball drop by not posting, I've decided to reclaim the blog (just like I did to the word fag) .

Everything's been pretty good here. Brian's been working at a big financial company. Due to insider trading rules, I can't reveal which one, but it rhymes with old-fin-fax. He loves his job, but hates getting up in the morning. He may move to the Y in Newark, since it'd be closer to work.

Caitie's still hard at work. I was able to work alongside her for a couple of days, and I really gained a deep understanding and appreciation for her busy office life.

Yesterday, we got fire alarms and a carbon-monoxide detector. I'm now terrified of the alarm going off, probably because I'll just run out of the house, forgetting to wake my housemates, leaving them to die.

Well, that's about it for now. I'll be adding more soon, so stay tuned for more posts.

Welcome back, gentle readers (and raving lunatic Harry...who ARE you?)

Let me tell you the daring story of three people who united across all kinds of social barriers to go forward with what can only be thought of as one of the great movements in US, possibly world, history.

Actually, I'm feeling lazy, so I'll paraphrase.

1. Dan and Caitie moved into Wonderland. Dan was subletting. Caitie set up the crappiest bureau she had ever meet, an item ignorantly purchased on craigslist.

2. Brian moved in around midnight that night in a flurry of activity. He brought such necessities with him as his book collection and giant exercise machine.

3. They all lived in harmony. Very zen harmony. (Read: no furniture, no food, extra drama, and lots of private Harry Potter reading by one subletter).

4. Instead of getting furniture, they got two air conditioners. Turns out the neighbors were not so thrilled about this prospect (in fact, they sent a letter describing the lovely breeze that comes off the airshaft, and threatened that it not be "a pleasant summer" if we did not remove our air conditioner from the air shaft.) Luckily, Brian is just belligerent enough that it actually expedited the process of setting up the air conditioner, and we're still using it, even though it's 50 degrees outside.

5. Dan moved out.

6. Ben moved in.

7. God, I REALLY want to get through this boring history stuff so I can write about current events, and Ben can write his promised "angsty" entries.

Dear friends and crazy person Harry,

I'd like to record a few important events in the history of Wonderland so you all have a context to put new posts into.

Wonderland was born out of a 100 degree fever in 100 degree weather. Brian and Caitie had traveled many miles between Poughkeepsie and New York for 3 days, walking through grungy apartment after grungry apartment, looking for somewhere at least habitable. Both had caught some strain of the rhinovirus, which--although not immediately life threatening-- threatened to end their lives either by them wandering into busy traffic circles while in a fevered daze or by them suffocating on snot in their sleep. But despite the highly unfavorable condition both were in, they pushed on through the doom and murk of Brooklyn, past sketchy real estate brokers named Yang who wanted them to live in an apartment with no kitchen or bathroom, and beyond crabby hasidic landlords who didn't believe they could earn enough money to live in either of the shit-holes he had for rent.

Our best prospect? A 2 bedroom rathole in the east village or a three bedroom apartment in eastern Williamsburg. Read: border of Bed- Sty, aka do or die...it was above a mexican grocery store, and lucky for us, there would have been a doorman (i.e. old mexican men on lawn chairs outside the stairwell to our apartment) on most days.

But we decided to look at one last place. We walked off the subway at 86th street and stumbled down to 93rd street. All of a sudden, we realized that we felt...safe...and...happy. And while the building did not have a doorman (see above), it did have 11 foot ceilings and an exposed brick wall.

We immediately sold our souls to the broker (for the price of 90$) and started the approval process.

That's the beginning of Wonderland. Oh, where was Ben?

Sitting on his butt in Cape Cod, healthy as a small nervous dog, playing the piano.

Welcome to the official journal of Wonderland, or apartment 1C. The inhabitants of this blog, and apartment as well, are Caitie, Ben, and Brian. This blog will be our way of keeping the world informed of the different trials we face daily in our attempt to live like adults. Along the way, you may find yourself asking a few questions. I'll answer them now.
Do we grow as people? Maybe.
Do we learn from our mistakes? Probably not.
Do we call cockroaches Candyland Toys, and have large quantities of protective polymer foam separating us from the dangerous Candyland Toys? DEFINITELY.

And there you have it-- the introduction to our house BLOG. I (Caitie) call them Bee-logs because I think that sounds cooler than blog (like what you'd be left with if someone barfed on a log). How Ben and Brian decide to refer to our blog is their choice.