he is finds my rent payment plan tiresome. some people don't respect creativity. at. all.
at first i agreed. i was at about .35 and i'll agree to a lot of things with the right blood alcohol content. then the tediusness of all that carrying started to weigh on me. so then i decided i didn't want to live downstairs. now he says i don't have a choice.
sneaks and biggie, while at one time romantic enough to share a bed -- loudly and awkwardly, i should add -- are not any longer. so biggie sleeps on the couch and sneaks sleeps in a bed and sometimes other friends crash out on a feather mattress in the dining room and once i saw scrubs doing her hair in front of a mirror in the living room. all those people. one bedroom. they made a lot of really sad movies in the '80s about this sort of lifestyle.
and since they are pedestrian enough to pay their rent in full in a timely fashion, my landlord thinks they should be rewarded.
"they deserve to live upstairs," he said.
now when he mentions it, i pull a classic manuever. rub my temples and say: "really, landlord. can we not talk about this right now? i'm crabby and i have a headache and now just isn't a good time."
and then as soon as the topic switches, i am cured and again ready to contribute.
apartment one has its advantages. and as your own personal pollyanna, these are the things i will try to focus on: it has an area that i will use as a dance floor. in my third duluth apartment i had a dance floor and i miss those intimate moments with a beer in one hand, a cigarette in the other, spinning and gyrating to the song "everlong." and it has a large kitchen with actual countertops and apparently this goes well with the concept that i sort of kinda want to cook a little bit. there are two entrances, so when the rapist does come aknockin', i have options for ways to elude him. it has access to the basement -- where i can rollerblade in circles while listening to lionel richie. sneaks painted it. and i will never again have to look at the wilderness scene border in my living room.
futbol lived downstairs. this can only mean that some mornings i will wake and find jcrew drunk, laying on my floor in a peach swimsuit cover up listening to james blunt. sobbing in spanish.
nothing has been firmly established. yet. but i think that with the right amount of cajoling, eye rolling, screeching and angst i may be able to convince my landlord to move all of my stuff ... like he did the time he kicked me out of my second duluth apartment.