Behold Fridgehemoth, shaker of worlds, freezer of cubes, preserver of all things dairy.
Marvel that my wife and I managed to squeeze a life-sized refridgerator into our home. This was not done without sacrifice. Fridgehemoth, as I have dubbed him, easily takes up a full sixth, maybe even a fifth of the kitchen. We shimmy around his grand bulk. He dwarfs our previous fridge...but that's not too hard. Remember those dorm fridges we all rented back in college? The ones that were exactly the right size for a 5-pack and one leftover of choice purloined from the dining hall? Multiply that sad excuse for a cooler x1.5 and paint it blue. You now have an exact replica of the humming box that sat in the corner of our kitchen for 3 months, right down to the flimsy plastic flap that served as a freezer. I never could suss out the physics of it all, but while it never once kept anything inside it frozen, it did manage to ice over the veggies crammed onto the shelf below.
Huge thanks go to our good friend Mulele and his wife Takako who are moving to LA. It's a bummer to see them go, but Fridgehemoth, as well as our new monster TV (not yet bequeathed a name), rice cooker, shelving units, microwave, dvd player and countless other household goods and items have chosen to stay behind as reminders for eternity (or until the warranties run out). In addition to being a pal and world traveler, Mulele is also a helluva talented illustrator and scribbler of comics. Be forewarned: they're not for the faint of heart.
With the plumber coming by today to fix the eternal fountain that was our toilet (after 3 weeks of being mesmerized by the ever-changing patterns of melodic splash), it feels as if we live in a whole new apartment. Dare I say it: an abode for adults. Now there's a frightening thought. If I turn the music up and throw some more clothes over the back of the chair, it should go away.