Three years ago this week, I was on the waiting list for residence housing at UBC, waiting to get into a quad at Fairview or in Gage. I was camping on my elder sister’s couch, but kept ending up sleeping on the AUS couch to fight locker breakins.
Two years and change ago, I was in transition in Vancouver, having decided at the absolute last minute to stay in BC, but without having arranged for a place to live. But, after a few days of camping in my then-boyfriend’s basement room in Point Grey, I scored the place in the house I was so happy in for the year I stayed in that city. I got it just in time, too – said boyfriend was putting his foot down about me being out by the time he got home from interviewing with his current Bay Area employer.
One year and change ago, I was panicking over not having a place to move to in Los Angeles. To the point where I was sneaking out of camp down to a cell signal zone to call my current girl roomate. I remember trying to ascertain her personality, all the while freaking out that one of the Brownies I was supposed to be minding was going to disappear into the night if I wasn’t there to watch them.
Now, I’m getting stressed out because we have three weeks until we’re hobo-ing it up, and Andrew (roomate-Andrew, not ex-boyfriend-Andrew – and yes, that gets no end of confusing) and Carly and I are starting to get slightly worried. We can’t find places for Oct 1st yet, but we’re afraid that by the time the Oct 1 houses come online, it will be almost the end of the month. The houses we’re looking at in Marina del Rey are $3200, and that’s miles south of where we want to be in Santa Monica, or even North Venice. We’re worried. Searching for the perfect house in Los Angeles is daunting; searching for it with three people even more so.
So I’m hoping that next move, this will be reduced down to another hilarious anecdote. Like pulling strings to get into rez. Like the last second refusal to leave Vancouver. Like the panic over finding something in the strange city of Los Angeles, where I knew almost no-one and would need friendly roomates to keep me from being lonely. All those situations resolved themselves for the best. I have been lucky. I can only hope it holds.
Ya know driving around my neighborhood today I notice what appear to be a fairly decent looking house. Though in Mar Vista it was located on Inglewood st between Venice and I would say 2 blocks north of Palms. It seem like a huge place plus it looked fairly recently remodeled.
such a good song.
never fails to make me happy.
also, a week and change until talk like a pirate day.