Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Guesthouse
Oh, craigslist. Always good for a laugh or 30. Having spent the last couple of days trolling the sublet listings in pursuit of a solution to the blindness I've recently come into, I'm still holding my belly. There was the 'vegetarian studio'; the storage closet as bedroom substitute (still $550!); the longwinded post, all capitals (exclusive caps make me pass out every time, if only for a few seconds), that concluded w/ an earnest 'this is not a game'; the 'you must be shorter than 5'4" due to extremely low ceilings'... Goodness!
So anyway, yeah, it's time to flee the cave (sublet it), if only temporarily--as in, a month. My current thinking: flee the cave every three/four months for the period of one month. This way, I guard against insanity and physical wasting w/ the added benefit of experiencing bold and exciting new neighborhoods. Yeah! Of course, I'll be taking out single rooms, not whole units as I have now. But hell, meeting new people ain't such a bad thing, eh? And by re-welcoming roomies into my realm, I should be able to afford the high life, as in Brooklyn Heights, DUMBO, maybe even Nolita. What fun awaits this girl!
Thing is, I'm definitely for a non-permanent scenario, as I really do like living alone. Took awhile for the weirdness to wear off, and it's still strange sometimes, but overall it's a good move for me. The privacy thing. And Park Slope--Park Slope, my heart! Still more, I'm mighty fond of my cavemate across the way: I've come to embrace his nocturnal behaviors, grateful for the unspoken compromise we've managed to strike, noisewise. Friends? Friends.
Actually, change is fast afoot. I'm at a favorite e-cafe at the moment, but an hour from now I'll be back underground, hostess to a series of potential spelunkers, including an artsy Swedish pair good for, in the very least, some embarrassing language blunders (my end). Seriously, it's wild (or not, considering) how many responses I got to my cl post--I have a half-dozen interested parties en route. I'll probably adopt an 'earlybird gets the cave' strategy, considering I need to get a check to my own supplier (Van Brunt/Pioneer: prime Red Hook territory! huge room! storybook backyard! my own little tea/wine/book/journal-ready patio!), like, yesterday. It's looking like a pretty sure thing, though...
On a completely different note, who knows what's come over me, but I finished my latest RW story in record time--like, three hours. Even got it into my editor a whoppin' two days ahead of deadline--unbelievable, for me. Also unrelated to anything, I've developed a strange indifference to (fondness for?) bugs. Of course, it's the bitsy ones I refer to, but man, even the microscopic used to get me sweatin'. Not anymore though, not anymore. These days when I spy a freshly hatched roach or some spindly no-namer, I gently raise an eyebrow and say--I mean, think--to myself, "Why, my home is your home, my desk your desk, my food your food. Have it at, little guy(s). And say, as long as you're here, care to stay for supper? Rainbow trout's the word(s)..."
Seriously, I promise I don't talk to myself too much, though I did excuse myself after sneezing this morning, something I felt vaguely uncomfortable about.
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I can just picture you talking to the walls at night in your little shoebox of a home! For lack of better words, you are a trooper, a true wander-woman! Props to u for toughing out the bugs and spacial constraints, for realz tho! We Americans, we love our space - so hats off to you for experiencing what you are experiencing! You would do well in Japan :-)
Thanks, Ms. Almost-Nunn, but really, I do love my apartment. It's seen some good times, bugs & all.