Sunday, July 30, 2006

An apartment, division rivals, and a pocket full of dreams. No wait. Not dreams. Wounds.

I haven’t updated this in quite some time, but I feel as though this time, that’s justifiable. Partly because this isn’t a very good blog anyway, and so updating it is a bit silly in the first place, but also because I’ve actually been getting things done, for once. I’m proud to report that I have finally, it seems, acquired an apartment that I can use once my lease with this one is done. I decided pretty early into renting this place that it would not be somewhere I’d want to stay indefinitely, and so have known that I’d have to undertake the job of finding an apartment in Chicago for about nine months now. Incidentally, I keep receiving letters in the mail informing me that my lease is going to run out in my current apartment, and something about they’ve tried to contact me to figure out whether or not I’m staying and they’re showing it and whatnot. This is funny to me for two reasons. First among those is that I’ve tried to contact them to tell them to stop sending me these letters. I called in June to let them know I’m not renewing my lease, but it appears that the answering machine on which that was recorded was immediately set on fire and thrown from their office window. When they called me to tell me that my apartment is being shown, I told them that I was not renewing the lease, but it appears that they go through receptionists like no one’s business, because no one I’ve talked to ever seems to have worked there for more than, say, fifteen minutes. And yet, every week, a letter informing me that if I try to live in the apartment after someone else is living in it, some hilarious Odd Couple moments could ensue for which they can not be held legally responsible. The second is that I could probably make a decent papier-mâché scale replica of the… let’s say Merrimac from the number of “moving out checklists” I’m acquiring from my leasing agency.

So off to find a new apartment. I went through the same agency that helped me find the apartment I have now, and boy howdy did they do a terrible job this time through. I found an apartment the first time I went out looking with their agent, and signed some things and believed that was that. It was a twelfth-floor place with a balcony from which I could see Wrigley (not that one would want to, and it was about a mile away so actually watching the baseball therein was impossible, forgetting for a second that the Cubs play no games when I’m not at lab, what with their constant day games that screw up my commute, and the fact that they annoy me). That fell through when they couldn’t figure out how to determine whether or not I actually have a job, and the owner rented to someone else in the meantime. So I went out looking again, and found a nice little place on Halsted near Belmont, which would have been terrific, except for the fact that they managed to phrase “he has cosigners” in a way that, apparently, sounded to the owner like “this sucker won’t be able to pay you without robbing passers-by”. So that was out. Also they apparently lost the part where they knew that I had a job. The third time through, success.

The problem, I think, is that they seem to want to do as little as possible to actually collect information that would help get an apartment rented (including working only to not lose the information they have), and then get all confused when owners of buildings demand more, and lose the ability to rent the apartment in the meantime. I should state at this point that my agent wasn’t the problem. Or at least I don’t think so. He seemed new at the job, and somewhat inexperienced, but he had managers overseeing everything, and managers actually getting paperwork from me, and managers filing things. He didn’t actually seem to do much, so I find it hard to believe he screwed it up.

Anyway, the lease is in the process of being signed by everyone, and barring some terrible badness, I’ll be moving into an apartment in a high-rise with a gorgeous view of the city in a neighborhood that has several dozen restaurants and crêperie, as well as access to a beach, which I’ve learned over the past few weeks is incredibly nice. Please don’t stalk me.

Two more things:

1) Tomorrow is the first time I’m actually going to see a major league baseball game in which the Pittsburgh Pirates are playing, though I may well wear my Bucs hat with the rationale that the two opposing sides will be hating on each other so much that they don’t notice my sad devotion to that ancient ballclub. I still don’t know who I’m going to want to win tomorrow’s game. If the Cubs win, the Pirates don’t get closer to not being the worst team in the NL Central and I’ll probably have to be somewhat annoyed at the annoying Cubs fans running around talking about how next year is their year already. If the Cardinals win, they stop the whole “skid” thing and the Reds have a decreased chance of taking the division, which I would heartily support this year. If only because, seriously, what have the Cards done for me lately. If they could both lose, of course, I'd be ecstatic, and eagerly await next Sunday, when I get to attend the Cubs/Pirates game, in which Zach Duke may be pitching, and, if so, will own him some infant bears. Of course, whichever happens, my happiness tomorrow rests on a Bucco win to finish out the Giants series, after which they will make the greatest comeback run in baseball history which the people of America could use after the stunning possibility of Floyd Landis doping.

Oh wait. The people of America don’t care about the Tour de France, but if the Pirates got incredibly good, you'd have DVD set after DVD set after a few years. Mass exodus from the Red Sox bandwagon to our jalopy.

2) What the hell is going on with yogurt lately? Perhaps it’s just the cheap kind I buy, but I’ve cut myself three times now on the tin foil, which leads to the uncomfortable situations in which a) I’m bleeding all over the damn place, leading me to believe I’ve got way too much blood in my fingers b) the savings on yogurt are being eaten up by bandage purchases. I’ll still buy the Lucerne brand stuff, based solely on cheapness, but I’ll try to make sure I look at the picture on the side so as to avoid the Fruit-On-The-Bottom-Razors-Around-The-Lid variety.

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