(no subject)
Apartment shopping is so disheartening, and not even because I'll be homeless in August if things continue to go the way they have so far. I mean, that's part of it.
Today I checked out two studios in a former crackhouse on capitol hill. Aesthetically they were everything I am looking for: arch doorways, large, breezy windows, fancy patios, manic Escher staircases and big artist's walls.
But it was in such disrepair (as was the braless, shoeless "property manager" who showed them to me) that the house had a quaint sadness to it, like a discarded doll. My primary concerns were that the doors seemed very kick-inable (perhaps because they still showed signs of having been so), and most of the house was empty.
The house's sordid history is still more than a ghost.
The situation kind of reminds me of the neglected and abused horses at the Rescue I volunteered at last summer. It destroys me that people can acquire things like horses and romantic Victorian mansions -- things that are in my life only as the objects of financial fantasy -- only to let them decay.
Today I checked out two studios in a former crackhouse on capitol hill. Aesthetically they were everything I am looking for: arch doorways, large, breezy windows, fancy patios, manic Escher staircases and big artist's walls.
But it was in such disrepair (as was the braless, shoeless "property manager" who showed them to me) that the house had a quaint sadness to it, like a discarded doll. My primary concerns were that the doors seemed very kick-inable (perhaps because they still showed signs of having been so), and most of the house was empty.
The house's sordid history is still more than a ghost.
The situation kind of reminds me of the neglected and abused horses at the Rescue I volunteered at last summer. It destroys me that people can acquire things like horses and romantic Victorian mansions -- things that are in my life only as the objects of financial fantasy -- only to let them decay.