They tell me that my house, my neighborhood, and the amount of money I’m paying to live in that house in that neighborhood is unheard of, or maybe just extremely rare. . . . I have no idea how I managed to do this. My landlord told me that the reason my friend Matt and I got the house was because all of our references had such nice things to say about us. Isn’t that cute? I mean, hell, I had no idea what those people would say. They said we were “nice guys” who, despite not having a whole lot of money, always managed to pay the bills on time. Well, there you go.
There was a sort of “open house” a few weeks ago, and we went. Our landlord, Jerry, is a hell of a guy. I think he liked us also because during the open house we stayed and talked to him for like half an hour. Only one other woman showed up, and she complained that the house was too small, dropped off an application, and scurried out. I’ve never been a landlord before, though I imagine that ain’t the sort of jerk you want living in your house. Maybe sometimes all you’re looking for is two jerks who are nice enough to talk to in short bursts. Though hey, what do I know.
Anyway: I moved all my stuff in yesterday. It took about three trips using this tiny car I’m borrowing from my friend. The only thing left in my storage unit is my mattress, and I’m going to nab it this evening. I rented a big-ass cargo van and everything. I’ll tell you what: I’m going to flop that thing onto the floor and have me a good old time. I’m going to scream and bounce around. Matt is still subletting some snowboarder’s room near Clinton Street, so I reckon I’m alone for a little while, and can comfortably do such things whenever I feel like it. We have a stand-alone house, not a duplex, which I haven’t had since I lived in Austin all those years ago, and you know, I totally forgot that you can just blast music as loud as you want. I sure did do that all night last night. I had me a hell of a time. I plan to do a lot of that tonight, and every night. I haven’t been able to do that in a long time.
Matt and I have decided we’re going to do a lot of stoop-sitting. We have a wonderful stoop, don’t you know. Last night we were out there a-hootin and a-hollerin, and in no time we had already made two friends who just happened to be walking down Hawthorne. That’s what I like about this Oregon place, and the people who live here: they’re so very friendly. I have really great conversations with strangers every day. I mean, hell, I’m at my favorite coffee shop right now and the barista came over and gave me a free sandwich. Why, I don’t know. Maybe because he sees me six days a week, and likes me enough to do such a thing. I am going to do my best not to let me stoop ownership get in the way of me coming here. Don’t get me wrong: I love that stoop, and I’m going to sit there every single god dang day, but I have to make appearances here every now and then, because God knows these people sheltered me and were kind to me when the wind was cold and the rain was coming down hard.
We have this huge living room. We have decided we’re going to get an enormous rug and some lamps . . . and that’s mostly it! We have plans to make a low Japanese table to fold out whenever we want to chill real hard, and I’m going to track down some cheap samurai armor to put in the corner. There’s also a fireplace in there and everything. This being Oregon, I’m thinking firewood won’t be hard to come by. Hell, we could just drive a few miles outside the city and chop some of our own. And then we’ll stack it up next to the fireplace and light the damn thing whenever an unseasonably cold night comes our way.
There is a basement. We are turning it into a sort of fortress. Red velvet curtains, a cheap drum kit, a weight bench, a projector . . . oh lord. It’s going to be so dumb, and so beautiful.
Maybe I’ll post pictures soon!
I have to go get that cargo van now. Yeah. Please hold your calls—I’m going to need all night with this big baby.