I found the apartment I’m moving to in August, put the money down for it and cannot wait to move in. It’s perfect. I walked in and was in LOVE with the place.
It’s in a 3 storey, 1930’s/40’s old brick, walk-up building. It has high ceilings, arched doorways, a big stand alone tub, and SPACE to breathe. It’s not like the modern apartment buildings where they give you that standard parquet flooring and a tiny rectangle to call home. It has space to live, built before land became so ridiculously expensive.
I walked out and told the woman that I W A N T E D it and that she should stop showing it immediately, as it was now mine as far as I was concerned. She laughed nervously and asked me if I wanted an application. Uh, hells yes please. I wanted to know who else had seen it, along with their names and addresses so I could go find them and threaten them against bringing money in on it. Well, not really, but I begged her to hold it for me until the next day when I could get to a bank for a money order. She refused to and I was being quite pushy and I think I scared her a bit. She was all of 4’10” and I’m about 6 feet when I wear my heels, which I was.
Whatever. I raced around the next day, getting applications and references and a big fat money order, then raced back there after work the next day.
She didn’t even look at my references. As soon as she saw the money order, I was filling out the lease.
I have moved SO much in the last 8 years that I have never felt at home since I left my parents place at the age of 17. Only when I go back there do I truly feel like I’m at home. I’ve always felt as if I live in ‘the apartment’ instead of ‘my apartment’. I really have high hopes that this place will be a home to me. It’s cozy, it has character, it has a kitchen that’s off to one corner so that I can hide the mess!! It’s not in the heart of Toronto’s Entertainment District, so I might not wake up each night to the mating calls of drunk teenagers! Imagine!
I’m excited folks, there will be pictures!!
In other news, I have just purchased the most fabulous purse ever to be created. It shall be henceforth known as Super Fabulous Purse. I was walking past a store that I know I have a weakness for, completely determined not to go in. They were having a sale AND they had a girl outside snagging people off the sidewalk, to go in and see the sale. She was all, ‘Hey! We’re having a sale! Everything’s marked down, come on in!’
I swore at her and walked in.
I noticed a holy glow surrounding the Super Fabulous Purse as soon as I set foot in the store, and I immediately ran across the floor to embrace my beloved. It’s so pretty and red, fake leather with woven bits of red and white on one side. Plus, it’s HUGE. I can fit my knitting, books, daily lunch of canned soup, purse, camera, keys and assorted junk inside and zip it up without begging the zipper not to pop open.
I fondled it for far too long, tempted by the 20% off. I muttered sweet nothings to it, smelled it’s delicious delicious fake leather smell. I freaked out the salesgirls a little bit. I decided against it, cuz I had after all, just put down first and last month’s rent on the perfect apartment. I meandered around the rest of the store, stealing furtive glances at Super Fabulous Purse.
I fought with myself like a dieter being offered a free piece of cheesecake. My will was not strong enough. I broke down and bought it, telling myself that I at least should buy it now, while it’s 20% off.
I walked out and perky girl who lured me in to the store goes, ‘Oh! What’d you get?’ I showed her and she (as any good retail person will) told me that I’d picked out the best bag in the store (duh).
I shook my fist at her, telling her I couldn’t really afford the purse. Then I signed up to be on their email list, cuz I’m weak like that.
Then I went out and showed off the Super Fabulous Purse to Lovely Friend and drank FAR too much wine. I didn’t even order wine! She was appalled (rightfully so, i dont’ know what I was thinking trying to stay sober….what is this? The times of prohibition??), and promptly ordered up our first half litre of the house red.
So far, I haven’t had any compliments on Super Fabulous Purse. BUT, it’s Pride Weekend here in Toronto and I fully expect to be gushed over by the oodles of gay men in my city this weekend. I will enjoy each and every compliment.
So in conclusion, I am broke now. But I look fucking GOOD with my new bag and you’re all gonna be jealous of my fantastical new apartment. You just wait and see!