In an unexpected and dramatic move, I have decided to stop being such a bitch hermit and leave the apartment that has been my home for the last eight years or so. Not just leave it in the go outside before 3 am way, but actually move out.
This all started a couple of weeks ago when I accompanied JR to view an apartment in my neighborhood. He's been couch-surfing since he arrived in LA, almost four months ago. Originally, the plan was for him to move in with some friends, who either flaked out, changed their minds or lost them. My fate was sealed once I saw the grand potential and sheer space that one can exploit in an actual apartment, not like the shoebox studio I had been "living" in. As I have said, my nesting instincts are in high gear and a new home means a new chapter in one's life. So, the only logical thing to do was to move in with JR.
We must have looked at about fifty apartments before settling on one that we could both agree was too weird to pass up. At first, we did things his way, which means checking craigslist every fifteen minutes and scrambling across town to be the first to see and apply. Then we tried my method, which consists of picking a neighborhood you could live in and driving around looking for signs. While on the way to yet another craigslist appointment, we passed a strange building that was set back from the street and obscured by lots of big trees. We called the number on the sign and a woman named Stephanie invited us in to look.
The whole experience was like something out of a David Lynch film. Stephanie was a nice, older lady in a bumped out blond wig and lots of makeup. She wore a poncho shawl in a summery yellow color and was quite the hostess as she gave us the grand tour of her complex. The apartment we saw was on the second floor, with a balcony overlooking the courtyard. The space itself, I can only describe as ghetto fabulous and totally retro chic. It has a sunken living room with a white rock fireplace and great big bedrooms with wall to wall closets. I fell in love at first sight and was ready to move in. "Don't you want to see the rest of the place first?" Stephanie asked. We quickly toured the buildings amenities and took applications.
Long story short: We got the apartment and move in later this week. That's the good news. The bad news is having to pack up all the crap I have spent a lifetime collecting. It has been an incredibly trying couple of days, with tensions running high and low. Letting go of shit is not my strong suit and I think I might have started my period today, but JR has been a trooper through it all. If our friendship can survive this week, I think there is nothing we can't do. I will be glad and sad to leave my little box of a home. This place has seen some of the worst moments of my life. It has been my sanctuary and my prison.
Now that "Bitch Hermit Graduation Day," as JR calls it, is around the corner, I am an emotional wreck. I hope, when I walk across the stage to pick up my diploma, that I do not trip on all the skeletons that got out of my closet this week.