kiwifruit's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Adventures in apartment hunting land Tales of apartment Hunting.... The building is nice enough. Park Slope. Third floor walkup. The rest is the stuff I have bad dreams about. The rest serves to remind me how desperate we New Yorkers are for affordable housing. So desperate that even after the story I am about to tell I still (albeit briefly) considered taking the place just because I love the neighborhood and hey, I'm not home that often. But no, thanks to words of wisdom from the forever level headed Lucille, and through housing mistakes I have made in the past - I chose not to. To the tale.... First, she was late. I was standing on her stoop trying to look nonchalant and not like a thief or a sick child molester scoping out the neighborhood. At least I look somewhat respectable. I noted the people going in to the building, they all seemed nice and normal (good sign). Wondered how all these people could afford to have a nice home, when I myself could not. Tried not to get morbidly depressed. Finally she shows up. She looked friendly, was apologizing profusely and sweating even more. Her face was the color of an overripe tomato. She told me she had to make an emergency trip to the vet because her cat was sick. Trailing behind her was a geriatric dog whom she talked to non-stop (it's name was Precious). I then realized she had a cat in her duffle bag - noticed only because there was a white, very pissed off looking tail emerging from the zipper. Took us around ten minutes to get up the stairs (third floor walk-up remember?) Precious dragged her bum leg behind her pausing every couple of steps (to drop dead I thought). The apartment itself was okay, not especially cheerful and cluttered. Cluttered even for me and I like clutter. I like PLANNED clutter that is. In the kitchen there was some sort of bag (like an IV bag in the hospital) this was used to revive the near dead cat (cancer). Oh, there was another cat too - don't know WHAT was wrong with IT. I like animals, really do, but don't want any about to die on me - probably in my bed where the corpse would sit for days unnoticed. As I am noticing all this the woman is talking NON STOP about god only knows what, splashing her face with water because she is ALLERGIC to all these geriatric pets. The kitty litter was full, in the very small bathroom. I am NOT putting my Aveda and Origins in there lined up next to feline poop. No. The bedroom itself was really quite pleasant. Would have lived in it in a second, but ....couldn't deal with the rest. I am NOT that picky. All I want is a nice room somewhere in a decent neighborhood where I can bring random men home every once in awhile (oh and closet space - very important). The only other exciting news is I got my period today which means several things: 1. I am not carrying Jon's baby (always a good thing) 2. Now I understand why I have felt like a fat cow for days on end. Explains the fried food I felt the need to inhale, explains the lust for chocolate, then salt, then more chocolate, then a good cry, then something fried, then hysterical laughter, then the need to kill myself or someone else........ 3. No sex for anyone this weekend. This is a good thing. If I can't rely on my own good sense, at least I have nature to put a stop to any stupid sexual gymnastics I would regret later. My new found virginity remains intact (for the time being - having serious doubts about ever making the six month mark - Lucille informed me I am only oficially a born again virgin after six months - doesn't look good for me). Until next time..... 17:09:26 - 2000-05-03 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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