Apartment

Exhibit 26.23

Now That I Have an Apartment

I still need the following:

* Electricity
* A less embarrassing sink
* The will to read Montaigne
* A place to sit that’s not the floor
* One dog
* Better Scrabble letters
* Anything to eat
* Something to place hypothetical food on
* Dignity
* Syllabi/towels
* Friendly yet private relationship with neighbors

4 Comments / Posted in Apartment, Houston, Needs

Exhibit 26.16

Where I Live Now

“There is one tenant ‘Okie’ who has lived there for many years.” — from the middle of a very helpful real estate agent’s description of a potential building.

I don’t care that this place is too small, doesn’t take dogs, and has yellow carpet. If you need me, I’ll be whittling on the stoop with Okie listening to stories about the gold rush.

Comment / Posted in Apartment, Okie, Whittling

Exhibit 26.15

Apartment Searching

That’s what I’m doing instead of writing some long celebration of how Jose Guillen is both no longer on the Royals and no longer barred from marrying whomever he wants in California. Okay, so both of those things aren’t fully settled but indications are good. Jose Guillen can now strike out alone to explore a more loving society.

And it’s too bad I’m searching for apartments because I’m full of other Jose-Guillen-is-terrible and marriage equality-related wordplay: Hopefully everyone on the right side of the playing field has seen the error of their intolerance. If Guillen doesn’t like the direction we’re moving in, he should get on the base about the poor showing. This swing-for-the-fences decision made a double play for his heart and his mind. He can no longer run from acknowledging the public’s shifting opinion. Sadly for him, he didn’t have the power to change yesterday’s outcome. He’s bad at baseball.

I’ll admit the wordplay sort of broke down there at the end. But a good two days for everyone all the same.

Comment / Posted in Apartment, Baseball, Celebrations

Exhibit 22.19

Postcard to Houston

Dear Houston,

I don’t think I’m going to be leaving my apartment anymore. Because now it’s sort of cold. And because I think if I practice I can touch every wall in my living room at the same time.

You understand,

Adam

1 Comment / Posted in Apartment, Houston, Postcard

Exhibit 22.16

A Complete Psychological Portrait of the Woman Who Lived in My Apartment at Least Two Tenants Ago but Whose Junk Mail Still Gets Delivered Here

Likes to Make Things but Not on Sunday

Works in Photography and/or Enjoys Professional-Grade Tripods

Enthusiastic College Donor, Banner Aficionado

Has a God

Wears Lane Bryant Clothes, Poses Oddly in Them

Appreciates Her God’s Mail-Order Jewelry Company

Is Presumably Sad She Is Not Getting Her Mail

I can’t even write her a letter and admit my feelings because it would just get delivered back to me along with some other guy’s Amnesty International address labels and my own, um, Amnesty International address labels.

This one’s for you, Lisa Tuggs formerly of Lawrence St.:

True love waits, Lisa Tuggs. True love waits.

1 Comment / Posted in Apartment, Love, Mail

Exhibit 21.4

A Review of My Apartment Building

It’s good, I think, but I wish they had told me the location of the trash bins so I didn’t have to peer through my blinds hoping to spot a neighbor carrying a white Hefty bag. Because if I ever see such a neighbor I’m going to have to quickly grab my own white Hefty bag and follow them to wherever the trash bins are. Then I’ll have to pretend like it’s just a coincidence that I’m going to the trash bins at the same time. This will require me to make casual, walking-to-the-trash-bin conversation.

Neighbor: Hey, did you just move in?
Me: Yes, sir.
Neighbor: Cool, cool. How’s it going?
Me: I know where the trash bin is.
Neighbor: Great, so you won’t mind giving the password to the minotaur then?
Minotaur: Aaaargh!
Me: Skittles?
Neighbor: Awesome, I’m having a barbeque later.

Also, I’m sort of curious about how the UPS/USPS/FedEx people are getting through the gate. Do they all have keys? And, if so, is that complicated with all of the other buildings they have to go into? Does the minotaur let them in? I think about this as I wait for someone to take out their trash.

Furthermore, I find the choice of having sparkly, stenciled art on one of the building walls to undermine the otherwise self-conscious industrial-age penal features–exposed brick, cement floors, iron gate–which make the rest of the building a modern day workhouse with, ultimately, the gate holding us in rather than them out. These nods to an industrial-penal system acknowledges us, the tenant/prisoners, as holders of disciplinary careers who will continue to propagate the system which punishes us unawares.

Or at least that’s what the building would say if someone hadn’t spray painted a sparkly dragonfly on the wall.

I call him Henry.

1 Comment / Posted in Apartment, Henry, Reviews

Exhibit 16.17

This is so self-congratulatory that I really should stop. In any case, I’m glad we all agreed that we’re never going to talk about that time I linked to my own blog over and over.

Exhibit 5.9 – Madison!

Exhibit 3.1 – This is what I was thinking about football in September of 2007. You definitely don’t need to read this, but it does sum up my feelings on Randy Moss here: He’s like Superman only if Superman had a lingering hamstring problem and sometimes said things like, “I don’t need to save everyone. I just have to save people when it counts.” Yep.

Exhibit 6.5 – Here’s the story of the time junky mouse sacrificers moved into the apartment.

Exhibit 5.4 – The first hint that something was wrong with the Petersons. Note: this was before that guy named Adam Peterson killed someone.

Comment / Posted in Apartment, Madisons, Unnecessary Scheduling