The Apartment

This is not a scheduled blog. So much for being organized. It has come to the forefront due to recent activities by "the people upstairs." There is no way I can write this all in one shot, it's a blog, not a novel for Pete's sake! So we'll do it in sections. Don't worry, I intend to cover all the crazies, and the story of how I arrived here in this place, and why I stay.

Once upon a time, uh...hmmm.... five years ago this coming July 5th, I arrived on the front steps of this apartment building. I actually thought I was going to look at the one a few doors down, but here is where I landed. I had called so many numbers from the paper, and then wrote down a few while driving through the neighborhood, that I was confused. My fairly recent marriage was also ending, and I couldn't get out of that house fast enough, so that didn't help my state of mind much.

I woke up that morning to a phone call from the Landlord, his name is Fred. After a short discussion on allowing the cats, we agreed to meet at 10. Vicki just happened to be in town and because I wasn't in a clear thinking place I called her quick to ask her to tag along. She has a good head on her shoulders. Don't tell her I said that..... So she and I drove on over, took one look, and wrote a check. The apartment wasn't quite as nice (or half as clean) as it is now, but the "Day the rain came down." is another part of the story. There also was a frantic father inside at the time who was packing up his daughters things, and some clean up going on. I was told it was a domestic abuse situation. That was probably the single biggest lie I have ever been told. We'll cover that in "Drug Lord's from Hawaii."

I returned home and my x and I started canceling the phone, setting up new numbers, etc. when he tells me he wants to work on things. Mind you, he had given me the divorce papers, initiated by HIM a few days prior. *sigh* I should have walked out the door, but being the person I am, I decided to try. However, I have gotten a bit smarter as the years have passed, and I did not give up the apartment. So during the rest of the summer I would come here sometimes and sit on the dining room floor, just staring at the empty walls, trying to envision myself living here. As things got rockier I started moving boxes here slowly, just a few at a time. Nothing of great import, but progress. Then one day in October I found out some interesting information and started packing in earnest. I didn't even say anything to him, just let him find me amongst the boxes. I gave him the evil eyes, and that was it. He apparently wasn't brave enough to ask what, or why. The first night I slept in my new home, well.... it ended up being my first wedding anniversary. It wasn't planned that way, that's just the way it fell. Good times.....

I love this apartment. It is home, and it has always felt that way to me. It's cozy and comfy and just the right size. It fits just me. It fits me and a cat. It fits me and two cats. It even fit me, Leon, a large dog, and two cats. Heck, it fits my whole family on a holiday without too much crush. Oh, lets not forget the goovers. It fits me and the goovers just fine. They seem to like it too.

I just ran outside and took this picture. I hope the neighbors think I'm taking it of them for nefarious purposes! My home is on the bottom, right hand side. Awesome for moving things in and out, not so great having people above you, for several reasons which will follow in the continuing story! Lets see, apart from being roomy, I have a living room, dining room, large walk in coat/storage closet, built in hutch/pantry, small bathroom-with an awesome bubble bath tub, large kitchen that could be "eat in" if you squished, and one large bedroom with a very big closet. There is a (creepy)basement with washer/dryer (very expensive so I still go to Kate's) available, and a storage unit that I can not use because it is too damn nasty. Part of the basement looks like a concentration camp, ask Kate, she's been down there. *shudder*

The concept of renting is just so wrong to me. I bought my own home (mobile) when I was 23, and then ended up selling it when we moved uptown prior to marriage fail number two. Giving someone else money that I could be putting into my own place has always rubbed me the wrong way. However, divorce is not a time to be making other major decisions, and I really wasn't sure which way life was going to take me. So I rented. Divorce put me way back into debt, so I stayed. I'm also STILL not sure which way life is going to take me, and I'm not quite ready to put down permanent roots yet, but I'm getting there. While I figure it all out I have an apartment that is very cozy and comfy to do it in.

However........ with apartments, come landlords, and neighbors.......... to be continued.............