Moving. AKA: Punching One's Self in the Face Over and Over

Howdy. I am pretty sure that no one reads this thing yet, but I apologize anyhow. I have moved. And I am thinkin' that it is not just in location...I moved way out to the country to a place of possibility. It is astoundingly beautiful. The night sky will knock you on your face and you'll just have to keep getting up to look at it again, only to find yourself kissin' dirt, or gravel or dead grass the case may be. Well...that sounds good right? awesome, huh? That's what I thought..and then I realized that when my family said there was no heat or a stove or a refridgerator.. that they meant they wouldnt be putting those things into this house I am renting from them anytime soon. Yeah..so um dang it. What the crap, you say? What the crap am I renting a house that has none of those things...Well...I was under the impression they would put them in there! Damn it. Now, the past week or so I haven't even been at my chateau: I have either spent the night at my mama's or nana's because of the threat of bad weather (I wouldnt be able to escape my country hovel if the roads iced over). Dang it. I am at the library, and I have to go. I will update this sucker in a few days. Dang it!