Eviction party!

Back to square one!! Anyone want to rent to a hard-working, book-reading, fridge-cleaning, VCR-rewinding, gin-drinking writer/insomniac/German enthusiast with excellently bad taste? Here I am.

Yep, it's official. I was just nicely asked to leave, to accommodate landlady's niece with boyfriend "drama." So much for putting down roots, so much for decorating, cleaning the fridge, acquiring household investment pieces, so much for picking out succulents. So much for the effort that went into looking for a home, the endless meeting of people and being nice, so much for moving my cheap folding furniture in a Radio Flyer wagon and having everyone honk at me. I'm back on the mean streets. So if you have a hot housing tip, let me know.

P.S. !!!***Act now and I will throw in some FREE espresso snobbery at no extra charge***!!! AMAZING OFFER WON'T LAST CALL NOW

...Or have I been reading too many Craigslist postings lately?

Left at the burned frat house....

Okay, so IDPEM has been really busy lately. This post has been in drafts since the day I moved in. Inappropriately, this writer, blogger and late-night streamer of Firefly moved into a house sans internet. WHAT? I know. This post was drafted by stealing the City-County Library's WiFi while draining the last of my Eeee!! PC's finite battery supply while waiting at the bus stop. Ghetto. This is as far as I got before I had to board the 12A Northbound:

I've moved in today!! Freedom! 

I don't have much these days.

Veggie garden, complete with Technicolor zebra.

View from the front.

The burned-out former frat house on the corner serves as an amusing and accurate landmark.

The place is cute and in a good neighborhood, but until I put forth some serious decorative efforts in my renovated-garage bedroom, I am going to be super depressed every time I walk in there. The carpet, which is really foul and reeks of cigarettes, is laid over concrete. The walls have curiosity-arousing stains, and my sweet private entrance is sort of spoiled by the last tenant's large pile of crap, which is apparently our (roomies Essie, Taylor and my) responsibility to sell/give away/make disappear.

I am ripping up the carpet next weekend, painting, and doing something frightfully clever with fabric on the walls (to make up for not being trusted to paint fun colors). This weekend I am getting a pile of soil and some plants and doing a bit of small-scale landscaping in an attempt to prettify the dry, empty ditch separating my entrance from the pile-o-shit that is not mine.

Despite these sort of forced projects to bring my living standards up to normal, it is SO wonderful to live in the downtown area. Even when I wake up in my smelly room on my mattress that someone probably expired on I am happy to be with minutes of cafes, shops, grocery stores...other people...

My life has been packed, with work every day, two exams, an article deadline for San Louie magazine and moving. (Plus there's something incredible that's just happened, but that deserves it's own post.) 

Life's intense!

In my bedroom, my sole oasis is a Dali painting complete with a sunset on a barren landscape, elephants with stilted legs, and lots of misplaced breasts. When I go in there I just try to keep my eyes fixed on that.