Chip
Another real-time posting...
I recently discovered that my new-roommate-to-be used to be a Chippendales dancer. Therefore I shall refer to him as Chip. Chip is one of those classic L.A. guys. He grew up here and went to Beverly Hills High School and USC, and has a couple of cool sideline career things going on in addition to the main pays-the-bills job. Like I said, classic L.A. He's a handsome, sociable, brawny man, and I'll think we'll live very well together.
Our search for housing, as I mentioned before, is taking place in a severe time crunch. On Tuesday, I slipped out of work a few hours early so that we could take a look at some places together. He has seen my house, and I have seen his, but we had to get a sense of what we like and don't like in our potential places and you can really only do that by looking together. We saw four places: one was cute and tiny and close to my beloved Runyan Canyon; two of them were in a big and slightly depressing apartment building near Hollywood, with the virtue of having a decent layout and two bathrooms and balconies off of each bedroom; and the last was a very interesting space, charming and spread out over two floors, but we would have been on top of each other all the time. Sticker shock was in effect for all of these, but they were all workable.
Today Chip, knowing that I really couldn't get away from work the rest of this week, rang me up. He was very excited about another place he'd just seen, and since he had to return the keys by 5pm he wanted to know if there was any chance I could get away. As much work as I have to do, anything that might possibly help lessen my panic is gonna be a good thing. Besides, I knew that if it were as good as he'd said, we'd need to snap it up before anyone else could. So I made my apologies here and ran out the door.
We had time to see a second place as well, so I actually met him there. It's the top floor of a duplex sort of near Pico and Fairfax; spacious, full of light, nice views and oozing with old fashioned charm. It has a big backyard, room for his office and piano, and was just adorable. Downside: only one bathroom and the location isn't entirely ideal. (Let's face it, my current address is absolutely ideal in every possible way, which is one of the many reasons why it's going to be so hard to leave.) It was also about a hundred bucks more per month than the previous places, but clearly well worth it.
I returned to the first place with him. And he was right: it's equally wonderful, but entirely different. This one is two stories plus a roof deck (view of Hollywood Hills and downtown) and is at Sweetzer and Beverly. Great location. Each bedroom has its own bathroom (although one bathroom, bizarrely, is tub only, no shower) and there's only one parking space, I think. This one is more sleek and modern, but also big and bright. Both have fireplaces. The rent is about as same as the other place. Yikes.
We're going to fill out applications for both. Again, I can't believe how poor I'm going to be, but isn't it better to be just one step above poverty level in a nice place than to be miserable and only a step and a half above poverty level in a dump?
At least that's what I'm telling myself.
The weird thing about looking for a place to live is that, in some way, you are picking what kind of life you're going to have, what kind of person you'll be. Am I the guy in the cozy, homey top floor duplex? Am I the guy in the cool three-story pad near all the hangouts on Beverly? Am I the guy who moves into a Hollywood apartment building full of straight 20-year-olds? (I hope not.) One thing I know...I'll miss the guy I currently am in the beating heart of West Hollywood. Seriously, if that guy weren't so damaged, he'd be getting laid all the time.
Weight: 170.5
I recently discovered that my new-roommate-to-be used to be a Chippendales dancer. Therefore I shall refer to him as Chip. Chip is one of those classic L.A. guys. He grew up here and went to Beverly Hills High School and USC, and has a couple of cool sideline career things going on in addition to the main pays-the-bills job. Like I said, classic L.A. He's a handsome, sociable, brawny man, and I'll think we'll live very well together.
Our search for housing, as I mentioned before, is taking place in a severe time crunch. On Tuesday, I slipped out of work a few hours early so that we could take a look at some places together. He has seen my house, and I have seen his, but we had to get a sense of what we like and don't like in our potential places and you can really only do that by looking together. We saw four places: one was cute and tiny and close to my beloved Runyan Canyon; two of them were in a big and slightly depressing apartment building near Hollywood, with the virtue of having a decent layout and two bathrooms and balconies off of each bedroom; and the last was a very interesting space, charming and spread out over two floors, but we would have been on top of each other all the time. Sticker shock was in effect for all of these, but they were all workable.
Today Chip, knowing that I really couldn't get away from work the rest of this week, rang me up. He was very excited about another place he'd just seen, and since he had to return the keys by 5pm he wanted to know if there was any chance I could get away. As much work as I have to do, anything that might possibly help lessen my panic is gonna be a good thing. Besides, I knew that if it were as good as he'd said, we'd need to snap it up before anyone else could. So I made my apologies here and ran out the door.
We had time to see a second place as well, so I actually met him there. It's the top floor of a duplex sort of near Pico and Fairfax; spacious, full of light, nice views and oozing with old fashioned charm. It has a big backyard, room for his office and piano, and was just adorable. Downside: only one bathroom and the location isn't entirely ideal. (Let's face it, my current address is absolutely ideal in every possible way, which is one of the many reasons why it's going to be so hard to leave.) It was also about a hundred bucks more per month than the previous places, but clearly well worth it.
I returned to the first place with him. And he was right: it's equally wonderful, but entirely different. This one is two stories plus a roof deck (view of Hollywood Hills and downtown) and is at Sweetzer and Beverly. Great location. Each bedroom has its own bathroom (although one bathroom, bizarrely, is tub only, no shower) and there's only one parking space, I think. This one is more sleek and modern, but also big and bright. Both have fireplaces. The rent is about as same as the other place. Yikes.
We're going to fill out applications for both. Again, I can't believe how poor I'm going to be, but isn't it better to be just one step above poverty level in a nice place than to be miserable and only a step and a half above poverty level in a dump?
At least that's what I'm telling myself.
The weird thing about looking for a place to live is that, in some way, you are picking what kind of life you're going to have, what kind of person you'll be. Am I the guy in the cozy, homey top floor duplex? Am I the guy in the cool three-story pad near all the hangouts on Beverly? Am I the guy who moves into a Hollywood apartment building full of straight 20-year-olds? (I hope not.) One thing I know...I'll miss the guy I currently am in the beating heart of West Hollywood. Seriously, if that guy weren't so damaged, he'd be getting laid all the time.
Weight: 170.5
posted by M. at 6:13 PM
2 Comments:
You're right about how picking a new place to live is choosing the person you'll be to some extent. Our environment defines who we are.
On the other hand, moving outside of your present location may lead you to something even better than you can imagine. Who knows? Sometimes you just have to trust that everything is going to be okay, close your eyes, hold on, and scream at the top of your lungs.
And another thing, quit focusing on how poor you're going to be and replace it with the thought that you always have more than enough to live comfortably. Our thoughts create our reality, so if you think poor, you are poor. If you think you're abundant, you are. I'm not sure why it works, but it does.
If you ever refer to your self as "damaged" again, I'm going to haul off and whack you upside that blonde head of yours! You're wonderful, intelligent, handsome, caring and kind. One of the best, most honest, all-around good people I know, damnit!
And where you live isn't going to change that. :)
Post a Comment
<< Home