Appy Polly Lodges
Been away for awhile. I know everyone was on the edge of their seats, waiting for the next transmission. Or something like that. Anyway, so Friday I go to check out this studio apartment in Ocean Beach that is actually in my price range (praise be!). I go in the morning, and the people in the realty office that are in charge seem to all be part of the same family, or something, because the girl running the front desk was constantly calling to the back room: "MOM! CAN THIS GUY HAVE THE KEY TO THE RIALTO APARTMENT?" Fortunately, Mom gave me permission to check the apartment out. Unfortunately, I actually ended up checking the apartment out.
I didn't find any dead bodies or anything. No BTK. But what I did find was quite possibly the worst apartment I've ever seen in my life. It seems to me that if I were Buzz Aldrin, returning from the first moon mission, I would have found this place incredibly cramped. The apartment listing says "no pets", and I realize this is not, somehow, for the benefit of the apartment, but rather for the benefit of the tenant. Any pet confined to this would, sooner or later, begin to mistake the tenant for food. To add insult to injury, it wasn't even in Ocean Beach, but rather in middletown, or whatever the hell the name of that part of town is between Ocean Beach and Point Loma. Crappy, crappy, crappy. I guess the dream of finding my own place is over. But oh, was it a beautiful dream.
On Sunday night, I went to a "Social Justice Dinner" at some Lutheran Church downtown. Some of the work they did there was interesting, although the night was a little touchy-feely (the leader of a support group for women whose husbands are in jail suggested that it was wrong for people to tell these women to find other men, claiming that doing so was "dishonering their love"; barf). The most interesting part of the night was when some old dude who apparently liked to wax philosophical sat down next to the four of us, all from UCSD's Philosophy program. But it got a little weird - he started asking us all where we were from, what our interests were, what our parents did, what jokes we told about each other, progressively more personal information each time. EC was tempted, apparently, to announce that his mother was a crack-whore, but felt it was inappropriate given the setting. Next time, I say: crack-whore it up, EC! Unless, of course, your mother really is a crack-whore, in which case I apologize for making light of it.
In conclusion, Chris Grenz:
I didn't find any dead bodies or anything. No BTK. But what I did find was quite possibly the worst apartment I've ever seen in my life. It seems to me that if I were Buzz Aldrin, returning from the first moon mission, I would have found this place incredibly cramped. The apartment listing says "no pets", and I realize this is not, somehow, for the benefit of the apartment, but rather for the benefit of the tenant. Any pet confined to this would, sooner or later, begin to mistake the tenant for food. To add insult to injury, it wasn't even in Ocean Beach, but rather in middletown, or whatever the hell the name of that part of town is between Ocean Beach and Point Loma. Crappy, crappy, crappy. I guess the dream of finding my own place is over. But oh, was it a beautiful dream.
On Sunday night, I went to a "Social Justice Dinner" at some Lutheran Church downtown. Some of the work they did there was interesting, although the night was a little touchy-feely (the leader of a support group for women whose husbands are in jail suggested that it was wrong for people to tell these women to find other men, claiming that doing so was "dishonering their love"; barf). The most interesting part of the night was when some old dude who apparently liked to wax philosophical sat down next to the four of us, all from UCSD's Philosophy program. But it got a little weird - he started asking us all where we were from, what our interests were, what our parents did, what jokes we told about each other, progressively more personal information each time. EC was tempted, apparently, to announce that his mother was a crack-whore, but felt it was inappropriate given the setting. Next time, I say: crack-whore it up, EC! Unless, of course, your mother really is a crack-whore, in which case I apologize for making light of it.
In conclusion, Chris Grenz:
posted by dd0031 at 8:10 PM
1 Comments:
Sucks about the apartment. Roommates arent all that bad. I had a great roommate who just so happened to also be female. Best of both worlds! I'd also like to say that your life seems about 1000% more interesting than mine. I need to get out more...
ps. that is the most creepy picture I've seen in a long time.
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