Well, I finally managed to get an apartment.
I am now a resident of Venice, California. Which, according to an article Coop sent me, is “America’s smorgasbord of the rationally challenged.”
I should fit right in.
Actually, I’m technically a resident of the City of Los Angeles, but for some reason the mailing addresses in LA occasionally go by neighborhood (Hollywood, Venice, Studio City) instead of by actual city (Santa Monica, West Hollywood, Burbank). I suspect this confuses the US Postal Service somewhat, but frankly, I don’t care.
I cracked and got a 1 bedroom, after talking to assorted loonies about possibly getting into a roommate situation, but I deduced that I’d probably be a lot happier living by myself and reveling in my own fruitcakeness than dealing with someone else’s.
I haven’t had a lot of time to do much besides put my apartment together. I’ve been putting together furniture and such for the last few days, which has been a pain in the ass, but now that things are pretty much together, it looks like an actual apartment.
Now I just have to jump through about 3 million more logistical hoops (changing car registration and driver’s license, getting a job, etc.) and I’ll be all set.