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May. 27th, 2003 08:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
deliriumcrowSo this weekend was odd. We looked at apartments, and before that went out for a walk and looked at antique sotres on the Strand, and in one we found a golden apple shaped bell for 10 dollars. We were convinced this would somehow come in handy in the searching. And then we found one we really liked, and they liked us, and said they wanted our money and that we should come over and sign the lease on Monday morning, and we did, gave them 200 in cash because we cuodn't get any more money out of the bank, it being a holiday and all, and we hadn't any chexks (silly us) which wouldn't have mattered anyway, seeing as he didn't want a personal check. And there are very few places where you can get a money order on a Sunday night, or on Memorial Day morning. So we gave him that much. And by the time we got home he had called back and said that he did not, after all, want to rent to us, because his wife had a "bad feeling". Bitch. So we went back, with Remy's dad, to get back our deposit, and he went off on them. Remy and I were more or less speechlessly irate. So we called several more places, and looked at a studio with a loft, which was nice but very small. It had a cube refrigerator, and no freezer. Not a good place for two people who actually eat food sometimes. And a girl who likes ice cream. We tried to avoid Remy's mother's cooking, but his dad showed up there, so it looked like it would be inevitable that we would have to ahve dinner at home. He cooking made me rather ill the previous night, and was rather...umm...bland.
And then James caled, and we made arrangements to go out and have dinner at the diner nearby, and after they had to look at a house they wanted to rent. And we went with. Because we had nothing better to do. And you know what? It was huge! It was being advertised as a three bedroom, but was easilly five. So after having given up on finding a place together, and going off on our own and getting screwed over, we begged for a place there if they got it, and everyone was agreeable. The landlord kicked the rent up for that to a thousand, and we offered our services in restoration, as he was engaged in repairs when we got there. And he wants planting done, too. And then he said he'd get back to us. So we waited. And waited. And I was still waiting far an answer when I started typing this.
We did not know what the outcome would be when we diecided that we needed a portable closet. Because chances are we would not have a place with sufficient closets, and there was a lovely one with drawers too at one of the antique stores, and for only 90. Yes, we ned the extra space, that's it, never mind that I had in mind the room with ever too few closets. The store that had waht I wanted was closed (an old armoire from the Trojan Hotel in Troy) and it didn't appear to be there anyway. But we went farther down the street, I firm in my belief that something was there, and found the only antique store open on a Tuesday, the one that loot old houses for parts. I love that store.... We were about to leave, and I saw a sign for more upstairs. So I went up. And there was stuff! Lots of it! Including a wardrobe whose bars went from the fromt to the back, and whose finish was ruined, and who stood rather croockedly. We asked how much it was, and it was five dollars. Five. Yes, it's a small enough sum that I thought I misheard him. But consider also the number itself.
And more packing. Hates the packing. I bleached the floor where the waste water flooded it, and nearly made myself pass out with the fumes. But it no longer smells like mouldy shit and dead things in here. Just like excessive cleaning chemicals. But we have a lot finished so far, which is good. Though the floor still sin't dry.... When we got home it smelled worse than it had when it was actually flooded. I guess that's what happens when it's allowed to sit in the floorboards and not dry because it *rained* all weekend.... Anyway. We were still waiting.
And then Ben got on line, and we have home!! Yay! We live on the third floor of our house, in the slant-roofed room under the eaves, with a closet that opens and is half-filled with the chimney, with a bricked over fireplace and really old wallpaper that I asked the landlord not to paint over if we got the place, because it was neat and I wanted to photograph it. Do ghost-image type things. And most likely the room that connects to it as well, unless it does turn out that it's a bathroom, as there is a large clawfoot tub sitting in it. On the other end of the house from the other bathroom objects, which were in a room with pipes in it, though nothing appeared to be hooked up. Eh. And the refrigerator was on the second floor in a bedroom. He says it should be in order by the first week of June, so I guess then we find out which room is which. :) In the meantime, we're storing our stuff at Remy's grandmother's and staying with his parents. Oh yes, and one side of the room has a very short door that goes into the part of the eaves that was too short to use, and was made into storage instead. So I don't think it's actually the biggest bedroom, but that's fine. It has sotrage, which is more important. And I'm pretty sure that the room adjoining to ours (and otherwise inaccessible) is in fact a bedroom. We share a floor with James, with Ben and Tim below us, and living area below that, and the things in the basement can keep it. Yes, five of us. Again with the fives....
And yes. If we hadn't been screwed over by the original prospects, this would never have happened so well. Thank you Eris Bell.... And the rule of fives or something.
And then James caled, and we made arrangements to go out and have dinner at the diner nearby, and after they had to look at a house they wanted to rent. And we went with. Because we had nothing better to do. And you know what? It was huge! It was being advertised as a three bedroom, but was easilly five. So after having given up on finding a place together, and going off on our own and getting screwed over, we begged for a place there if they got it, and everyone was agreeable. The landlord kicked the rent up for that to a thousand, and we offered our services in restoration, as he was engaged in repairs when we got there. And he wants planting done, too. And then he said he'd get back to us. So we waited. And waited. And I was still waiting far an answer when I started typing this.
We did not know what the outcome would be when we diecided that we needed a portable closet. Because chances are we would not have a place with sufficient closets, and there was a lovely one with drawers too at one of the antique stores, and for only 90. Yes, we ned the extra space, that's it, never mind that I had in mind the room with ever too few closets. The store that had waht I wanted was closed (an old armoire from the Trojan Hotel in Troy) and it didn't appear to be there anyway. But we went farther down the street, I firm in my belief that something was there, and found the only antique store open on a Tuesday, the one that loot old houses for parts. I love that store.... We were about to leave, and I saw a sign for more upstairs. So I went up. And there was stuff! Lots of it! Including a wardrobe whose bars went from the fromt to the back, and whose finish was ruined, and who stood rather croockedly. We asked how much it was, and it was five dollars. Five. Yes, it's a small enough sum that I thought I misheard him. But consider also the number itself.
And more packing. Hates the packing. I bleached the floor where the waste water flooded it, and nearly made myself pass out with the fumes. But it no longer smells like mouldy shit and dead things in here. Just like excessive cleaning chemicals. But we have a lot finished so far, which is good. Though the floor still sin't dry.... When we got home it smelled worse than it had when it was actually flooded. I guess that's what happens when it's allowed to sit in the floorboards and not dry because it *rained* all weekend.... Anyway. We were still waiting.
And then Ben got on line, and we have home!! Yay! We live on the third floor of our house, in the slant-roofed room under the eaves, with a closet that opens and is half-filled with the chimney, with a bricked over fireplace and really old wallpaper that I asked the landlord not to paint over if we got the place, because it was neat and I wanted to photograph it. Do ghost-image type things. And most likely the room that connects to it as well, unless it does turn out that it's a bathroom, as there is a large clawfoot tub sitting in it. On the other end of the house from the other bathroom objects, which were in a room with pipes in it, though nothing appeared to be hooked up. Eh. And the refrigerator was on the second floor in a bedroom. He says it should be in order by the first week of June, so I guess then we find out which room is which. :) In the meantime, we're storing our stuff at Remy's grandmother's and staying with his parents. Oh yes, and one side of the room has a very short door that goes into the part of the eaves that was too short to use, and was made into storage instead. So I don't think it's actually the biggest bedroom, but that's fine. It has sotrage, which is more important. And I'm pretty sure that the room adjoining to ours (and otherwise inaccessible) is in fact a bedroom. We share a floor with James, with Ben and Tim below us, and living area below that, and the things in the basement can keep it. Yes, five of us. Again with the fives....
And yes. If we hadn't been screwed over by the original prospects, this would never have happened so well. Thank you Eris Bell.... And the rule of fives or something.
