I N  T H E  N I G H T  K I T C H E N

7.6.2001
Whoo-hoo!

I seem to be a 'go' for unemployment again. I got three checks in the mail this week. It also sounds like I'll be able to do some billable work in the near future.

Yea!




7.3.2001
Moment

Took a mind break yesterday and it was wonderful. Went out to lunch with Laurie and Steve at Dingo's on Hawthorne. Jayne walked by and stopped for chatting and a drink. That stretched on to driving around in Steve's convertable and then ending up in his backyard, this time with Sally (Laurie's dog) as well. We three put back many beers and chatted for a couple hours. Then we went down to Gino's and had a pricey but delicious meal out on the sidewalk. Best lemonade ever. We stayed past closing and harassed the waiter and T. joined us for dessert. I got home at 11:30 and fell into a stuporous sleep.




7.2.2001
Open House

I'm so lucky to have a friend like Laurie. Yesterday, she sent me an email with some apartment listings that she found, one of which had an open house yesterday from 4 - 5. T. and I got there a little late (due to bad directions on my part) and it was already a forgone conclusion. By the time we handed in our application there were about a dozen already in the stack. This place was definitely small and we'd have to do some serious reworking but it was adorable and in a great area and had a sunny backyard and sweet-smelling trees. It was actually a duplex and we'd share the yard and the front porch. It all seemed very pleasant though. I could live there.

So, I'm confident that we can find a good place but I'm going to get my stuff together so that we can act more quickly. I think I'll head to Kinko's and see if they have any apartment app forms and I'll get those filled out so we have them at the ready and I'll make sure to have my checkbook ready to go.

Timing here is key, though. This place runs till the end of August and it would be very handy if we could defer putting money down until the end of July. However, I know that if I find a place, I need to leap on it and put money down.

+ + +

Yesterday was a gorgeous day. T. and I took a nice urban hike through the Terwilliger woods before lunchtime and then lazed about a bit and tried not to watch teevee. We had grilled halibut and assorted vegetables for dinner and sipped white wine and watched the second part of Lawrence of Arabia. Interesting film. Parts of it fell apart for T. and I but the cinematography was amazing. Would have been stunning to see in the theatre.

Now I need to get on with my day. It seems that freelancing has made Monday my favorite day. Who would have thought? I'm all bright and hopeful and filled with possibilities. I have people to call and things to follow up on. It's toward the end of the week when I start getting lonely and all filled with dramatic ennui.




7.1.2001
Bad Cats

Yesterday, T. and I got up bright and early to go see an apartment. Laurie, the apartment super-sleuth, pointed me towards a great place just off of Hawthorne that looked very cute and well-kept and exactly in our price range. I called and called and called and finally got an appointment for Saturday morning.

T. and I were pretty groggy from the late night dinner party (I'm sure almost the entire yummy bottle of Pinot Noir didn't help) but managed to rouse ourselves enough to look semi-presentable.

We got there about two minutes early and rang the bell which caused two large dogs to start barking their heads off but didn't bring anyone to the door. There was another door and bell so we rang that one, too. No one answered. I called the number that I had on my cell phone. Answering machine. So we sat and waited for something to happen, remarking on the great location, the pretty exterior and how we'd never have to drive again if we lived there.

Eventually, a bearded man in jeans and ratty t-shirt came up the sidewalk and called out to us. This is John.

He looks like and acts like your typical Oregon hippie. Slightly unkempt but fussy in manner. Seems to welcome a no-rules environment but the orderliness of the garden speaks differently. Is very welcoming... up to the point where your lifestyle conflicts with their own.

Anyway, we chatted and he was friendly enough so he headed to the door with the key. We find it dead bolted in such a way that he can't get in. We try other doors. The dogs bark their heads off. He curses.

So, we stand outside and question him on the amenities and just what's what. As we're standing in the yard, I mention our cat and he says, "No."

"Sorry, no cats. They're destructive and I know there's these dogs here but that's the last time I let dogs in the place. They're animals and they make a mess and there's nothing you can do about it. And, I had a cat in an apartment once who shredded blinds and threw up all over the floors and peed on the carpets. And, blah, blah, blah... I hate cats."

Okay, he didn't say he hated cats but he seemed to have a special resentment towards them. So, I wrote down on a piece of paper our names and phone number and suggested that if he get desperate or change his mind that he should call us. He didn't want to take the piece of paper but I pretty much forced it on him.

Then, two girls show up who are there to walk those dogs and since we can now get into the apartment, he asks if we want to see it while were here.

Now, I know what you're thinking -- what's the point? That's what T. was thinking, too. However, I've decided to never be confident in a lost cause. You never know. I figured if he does call us up that we'll at least have seen the place.

So, we go up.

It's pretty small but not too small. It's incredibly dirty from the last tenants. The walls are covered in what looks like soot. They must have smoked the bejeesus out of Oregon's greenest the entire time they were there. He assured us that he was in the midst of cleaning it. There was a ginormous attic that it's a shame wasn't finished because it would have made a great office and guest room.

We would have taken that place.

So, we finish the tour and I tell the guy, "Hey, if all your other prospects turn out to be Satan worshipers, give us a call." We all laugh. "Ha! Ha!" (As if that's going to happen.)

Then we head downstairs to the vestibule which also has a door to the bottom floor apartment (and all the dogs who are now on a walk). John goes to open the door and finds that he can't. The deadbolt is spinning in it's housing. We can't turn the knob.

I tell him, "You have to rent to us now -- we're stuck here."

As he starts to fiddle with it, I get that yicky, clammy feeling and the vestibule gets ten degrees hotter. After much fiddling by T. and John, he goes upstairs to the empty apartment to look for a screwdriver and finds one. He comes down and starts removing the whole doorknob. He gets everything pretty much off but still can't move the deadbolt.

About twenty minutes have gone by. I'm trying to contain my minor bout of claustrophobia.

Suddenly, up the front steps comes the postman. The whole door is made of glass so he see us all standing there waving to him. John gets down by the mail slot and tosses out the key and says, "Hey -- we're stuck, see if you can unlock it from the outside."

After some more fiddling, the postman gets the lock to work and we're out.

So, we all have a laugh and then go on our way.

I just know John kicked himself all day long for even showing the place to a bunch of dirty, rotten, filthy cat owners.

Bastard.

The hunt continues....




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