Monday, July 07, 2003

Movin' on up, to the Northwest side...

I'm helping Sarah get her first chapbook together (it's called "The Turnip Made Me Do It," because according to Sarah, the turnip is the funniest of all vegetables), and she paid me for doing her layouts and graphic design by buying me a sword. A celtic-style, leaf-blade short sword, to be precise. This has to be the coolest payment for services rendered ever. I'm not sure what I'm going to do with it, but I'm currently fighting the urge to chase Jack around the apartment while screaming, "There can be only one!"

Speaking of apartments, Jack and I will be moving into a new condo at the end of August. I'm dreading it. The new place is great, and the landlord is a friend of ours, so no pet deposits and affordable rent, which is nice, but I'm just not looking forward to moving. I don't like the area (off of I-10, far away from friends, work, Montrose, etc.), and I don't think it's going to feel like "home." Of course, that's what I say about our current apartment (In the Galleria area, in the same complex Jack lived in before we met), which makes me wonder if I'm just entirely too picky. The condo is going to be overhauled before we move in, and Jack has promised that the second bedroom (well, the study, really) is to be officially My Space, but I feel like I'm slowly drifting farther and farther away from the area of town where I'm most comfortable. A friend of mine summed it up best: people who love living in the Montrose area of Houston can never be happy anywhere else.

We made a stab at apartment hunting over the weekend, but we couldn't find anything we liked in our price range. There was one place I would've sold family members into white slavery over: bottom floor of a two-story duplex, 2 bedrooms plus sunroom, beautiful aged brick exterior with a backyard and everything, but the rent was more than we pay now, so not an option. Sigh. I have got to write a bestseller or something. Or blackmail. I hear blackmail is lucrative.

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