Days 2-4 in the Adventures of Move #52 (give or take)

And so the search for a new place rolls on.

Though my heart’s not in it, I’m looking at roommate shares — SHIVERS! — in addition to the far-preferred small single solo spaces. And an adventure it has certainly been!

Knock Knock

Who’s there?
Evidently no one.
It’s a room share, modified. The guy’s seeking two roommates for his apartment. One room, however, is off the main house. Got its own entrance, loft bed, closet and bathroom. Kitchen use is in the main house. It’s compromised solo living but affords some of the privacy I seek so worth the look-see.

Ring bell. Ring. No answer.
Call the dude.
“I’m sorry. I forgot.”
{That’s the second no-show in this search.}
Shit. Bummer. Oh well.
“We’ll reschedule,” I offer, then drive off to enjoy a gorgeous autumn afternoon.

Outcome: Still haven’t rescheduled and not sure why.

Clutter King

It’s the first thing you see entering his apartment. Stuff stuff stuff computer stuff office stuff music stuff stuff stuff and stuff stacked haphazardly on two giant dusty desks that nearly fill the living room.

It’s not just that it looks like a guy lives here — and that it does! It looks like a messy guy. A not-too-clean guy. By the looks of the living room and inside kitchen cabinets, it’s borderline hoarding.

No way is this gonna work or happen. Not the room (modern bland). Not the arrangement (three roommates). Not the boxes and boxes of papers and god knows what else that swell beyond the holding capacity of shelving at the front door.

Plus it smells unpleasant.

“Nice meeting you,” I say. Beyond the door, I practically fall into the clean fresh air. I feel suffocated in that place. Suffocated by stuff.

Outcome: It’s clear to any reader. And clear is how I like my space. 🙂

Pillars Please

Built in 1915, with its painted green brick and thick white pillars, the Pillars building displays an impressive solid stately handsomeness and singularity on the residential street lined with aged determined elms.

I love classic historical structures!

The studio reflects its 99 years with the wood flooring, high ceilings and ample built-in shelving in the kitchen. Definitely need a high ladder to reach the top shelves and curtain rods!

Also true to its era, the single closet’s skinny and somewhat deep. The tired walls could use fresh paint and the kitchen a deep cleaning.

Its got its charms for sure. Feels nice in here.

Drawback is its shower only. A huge drawback to this baths afficionada. I love ’em like the Japanese love ’em and in fact the baths — the sento (public baths) and onsen (hot springs) are among the few things I dearly miss in life in Japan.

The living space in the small studio would accommodate little more than a bed, table, chair or two, you get the picture. The natural light’s ok. It’s affordable and the thick brick walls afford some sense of space and boundaries from neighbors at side and above. I hate feeling crowded.

Plus I’ve been stung by current tenants and landlord who haven’t been nice. They’ve actually been kinda mean, bullying, unjust. Yeah, I’m still feeling the hurt and the anger.

Anyways, moving on:

Outcome: It doesn’t exude yeah! but it’s doable. Lack of a tub could be a dealbreaker. It’s a Maybe, a plan B, worth keeping in mind. I pick up an application and keep looking.

Woodya Couldya?

Cool. Totally dig the dark wooden exterior. Like coming home to a rustic mountain cabin. Though of course there’s nothing “cabin-y” about an apartment complex with 30 residents!

Two 1-bedrooms are available. Identical floor plans circa 1980. You know the look with the laminated countertops and cupboards, dated dishwasher, basic tub. Yey it’s got a tub!

First apartment is on the top floor. Sunlight pours into the bedroom — niiiiice! And beautiful tree nearby. But oh is that major thoroughfare, noisy! I stand and listen, listen, listen.

Could it be done, living here?

No. As a sounds-sensitive, I’ve tried that before and more than once, living along a busy noisy street. The answer was no then. It’s still no.

Plus the rent is just beyond my budget.

We move on to the second available apartment. Niiiiiiice too: the back sliding glass door opens into a woodsy area. The faint ripple of a creek can be heard when you stand quietly and listen.

The rest of the apartment is dark dark. But the nature outside the bedroom almost makes up for it.

The rent’s how much?! Considerably more than the other apartment even though their floor plans are identical. The woods at the back door bump up the price.

I find my way out through the front door and despite persistent efforts on the part of the landlord to get me to reconsider, the answer’s the same for both apartments.

Outcome: Wouldya couldya make the higher rent work? Uh-uh. But still dig that rustic cabin-y exterior!

The Waiting Game

Sooo excited to see this place!

An affordable small 1-bedroom that’s (a) on a hill — I loooooooooove the bird’s-eye views of houses on bluffs, hills, etc.

And (b) is smack behind the library! Literally! How cooooooool is that!!!

It’s 5 p.m. I wait for the property management lady to show up.

I wait and wait. And wait. Finally at 5:15 I call her cell. Voice mail.

“I’m here. Waiting. I know you had a really busy day. Please call and let me know whether you’re coming.”

I keep waiting. It’s cold so I move from the apartment into my car to wait.

It’s 5:25. No call and no show.

I call again. Voice mail again.

I leave a message informing that I waited 25 minutes and am leaving. I’m angry — at the no-show, yes, moreso the lack of a call.

I wash my hands of the mess. Ball’s in her court. If she wants to call, she can.

Voice message awaits me this morning. It’s her forthrightly and genuinely apologizing. She mans up with an explanation, no excuse.

That goes a long ways with me. Her apology accepted, we reschedule for this afternoon. When she promises that she’ll be there, I know she will.

PLUS, separately, one more viewing in a super-quirky location early this evening.

And so rolls on the search for my new place. It’s been all over the map in a way. On the other hand, traveler that I am, I like being all over the map.

Plus it’s really fun to see other places, be they repellently awash in clutter and dust or rendered unseen behind tightly-drawn blinds and a one-time no-show property management lady.

The right place is a-comin’. Sure as the sun rises and sets every day. Sure as that train whistle ’round the bend streams through the air. She’s a-chuggin’ her way into my life, my new place. After all this adventuring, I can hardly wait to see what that train’s is a-deliverin’!
trainaroundbend

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