25 Hours, out of sight – out of mind.

Well, el Scoperino went on a housing quest down to DC on Friday.  I ended up trying to sleep a bit on Thurs after work, then driving to DC at 4am, searching and driving back by 4am the following day.  Strenuous, but hopefully with a good result.  I put a deposit on a small 4th floor studio by Rock Creek Park.  Wood floors, utilities included, pets allowed, on street parking, easy access to the park, and enough room to comfortably hold myself and my stuff.  I should have easy access to one of the metrostops (easy as in under a mile, which, unsurprisingly, is considered *not* easy by many, and hence, I think, the good deal) and the ride into GULC via bike should be shorter but will come via a completely different route.  I spoke with a few residents who loved the place and the management, so I think I just lucked out.  Sometimes the universe is nice that way.   Of course, the universe could always do something wacky with the credit check process.  (ack).

However, I think I already experienced the immediate downside - I ran into an unmitigated number of assholes during my day, (which I later tried to karmicly balance by calling a couple of good peeps I hadn’t spoken with recently, but who’ve been on my mind for one reason or another). 

The drive down was OK, save for traffic outside Baltimore, and the drive up was OK, save for the traffic associated with 95 and the GW.  It was 2am – I figured I was somewhat safe, but no, completely bad situation made worse my assholes who’d try to merge in at the last second.  One of those guys hit my car.  We were merging like a zipper at one of the 2 lane to 1 lane points and this guy felt he needed to be right behind the car he’d been driving behind.  So he honks his horn and hits the front right fender of my car, leaving a nice dent.  Then he hops off the highway and speeds off down the emergency lane.  While I like to think I’ve some forbearance, lately I’m just burnt out (as a byproduct of being consistently lied to).  I enjoyed fantasies of this guy rolling his car and dying in horrible and embarrassing ways.  Although I’m sure I’m not the only one - he was driving something that looked like a demolition derby car and which had a great deal of clear packing tape holding the rear end together.  Once the adrenaline burned off it was difficult to do the last 3-4am hour.  For some reason by body always wants to shut down at 3am and at 3:30pm.  Hardwiring, habit, or just a variable cycle of which I’m only noticing the days that conform to my 3/3 theory?  Dunno.  But I sang along with Tom Petty and arrived home with a good deal of energy left.  I had offers to crash here and there, but I’d have just had to do the drive on Sat, and, at the time, I’d some hopes of getting some AM things done on Sat.

I think the theme for the week is selfishness – there’s just been a lot of selfish behavior about in my small spheres.  This was not reinforced by dealings with rental agents. 

Yet I was lucky enough to have two good self-less encounters were had with Photogal and H.  Photogal continues her schneaky moving plans, and we’ve been trying to help each other out in that regard.  It’s nice to have someone nearby who has your back in some measure, who can say, “Dude, it’s not ideal for me, but I can totally do X if you need it.”  We also have a stash of quasi-shared stuff that should work well enough to get a couple of small apartments on-line and running.  I need to root through my CT storage stuff to see if there’s anything she can use. 

H took me out for my birthday and we had dinner and caught up on all the people we needed to: an old friend, alas, still in a cult; music/recording news for several people; other people going though so-so times but making the right choices and moving in the right direction.  Apparently I totally creeped out H’s housemate by a) showing up unannounced at 10pm (which is pretty standard for the H crowd), b) not having a TV, and c) not particularly caring about current pop personas.  (Additionally I’m pretty spent now-a-days and don’t have much of a small talk fund left outside my stalwart interests, of which HHmate shares none.)  I’m not sure if HHmate will be there, but there are BBQ plans in the near future, and I hope to see a number of people there including Elegante, the Trombone Player, and the Jeweler, all of whom I haven’t yet run into this summer.

So I now have to think about outfitting myself, solo fashion, for another calendar year DC living.  I still have a great deal of my more portable domestic stuff, but I can’t live in a mostly  bare room with a stack of boxes in the corner.  So out comes the old bookcases, chairs, etc.  Moving them down will be a bit tricky, but I think overall it would be cheaper than beating the local bushes for replacement items and just letting these molder up here.  I will have at least one spare bike and one spare bed, should anyone care to come visit DC. 

While the space will be small, it will be entirely my own, which is good and bad.  I have hermitting tendencies sometimes, but El Gato Perfecto will be there to make sure I stay on a healthy food and head-rubbing schedule.   See e.g., Pagnur Ban. (I have plans to construct a little fort for her so she can lay in wait and ambush me when I return home – every day I will be appropriately surprised.) 

The good side to being alone is that I’ll be able to focus while alone in the space (reading, writing) and focus while entertaining in the space.  I’m looking forward to entertaining.  I’ve written before that my perfect sort of day is having something individual/private to do during the day but having friend(s) visit and spend time walking about and occupying the neighborhood/space, cook a balanced dinner, drink wine or coffee, and talk into the evening.   If I only had a balcony/porch the new place would be completely perfect for me in that regard.  I haven’t had the space to have those kind of evenings in quite awhile, as there are usually countervailing tensions with housemates, etc.  Not that I haven’t had good housemates (I’ve been *very* lucky in that regard) but it’s easier to speak for (and to) the space when it’s your entirely own and you’re hosting. 

Ideally, I’d have some kind of garage/garden/earth access, be in the country, etc.  (I’ll have to put winemaking on hold for a bit with the new digs, and regret that I didn’t set up shop when I had the space to do so in the old place.)  But this *is* DC, so I’m pretty happy/grateful with what I’ve got.  Pending credit check.  Which should be no problem – but I always feel better with lease in hand as I’ve had too many sketchy and drama-filled non-lease situations in my past.   Those kind of things are good for what they are, but there’s a lot to be said for not having yet another small thing niggling in the back of your mind – “What happens if the sketchy landlord tries to kick us/me out in mid-Jan.?  How will I deal with it?”