After what seems like eons of tearing my hair out and cursing the bad luck I have to be me, I’ve finally managed to find an apartment.
The Good: It’s in a much better area (rich people adjacent as opposed to tranny hooker central), it’s easy biking distance to the beach (my current place is biking distance to the beach – but it’s an hour ride with a tailwind), the landlord is very nice, it’s closer to work, and I’m not being charged a pet deposit, so the cat will continue to freeload. It’s near a lot of nice restaurants and an all-night coffee shop is just around the corner. It’s also in a section of town that I’ve never really spent any time in, so it’s kind of like moving to a whole new city.
The Bad: It’s small. I don’t mean ‘kind of small’. I mean ‘postage stamp’ small. It’s about a quarter of the size of my current place, and there’s no yard or utility room or closet space or front porch. Hell, there’s not even a garage – it’s a car port, so I can’t even cram junk into the car’s room. Also, since it’s in West LA, the traffic is beyond horrible at rush hour – not that I come home at 6 pm very often.
The Ugly: Most of my stuff is going to have to go. Since I’ve lived in the same place for quite some time, I’ve accumulated lots of crap – most of which I’ve been saving for the proverbial rainy day or an unexpected apocalypse, but now I just don’t have the room, so out it goes.
This has been more difficult than I’d imagined. Aside from the ‘but I might neeeeeeed it’ factor, throwing away damned near everything I own is scary. I’ve got a pile of stuff that I absolutely positively won’t part with (first editions of books, my project bicycle, jewelry, etc), but most of it I’m just going to have to suck it up and throw it out.
Things I’ve tossed so far:
About a million paperbacks.
Cheap plastic dishes from Tar-jay (I’m going to use my grandmother’s Wedgwood china as my everyday dishes, simply because I don’t have room to keep more than one set).
Clothes that are two sizes too small and out of style.
Shoes. Mostly heels that I can’t wear anymore.
A bunch of childhood crap that my sister sent me because she didn’t want it cluttering up her house, but didn’t want to throw it away. Serves her right.
I’m moving the furniture Sunday, but since I have this place until the end of the month, I’ll use the bonus time to assess what I can fit into the new place and what I can’t. Then, at the end of the year, I’ll sell off what I can’t take and throw one hell of a party in the empty shell of my former life.
Which is all good, but I may not post much until the end of the year, when all this shit is over and done with.
Filed under: Non-Work