A Letter from a Beautiful Girl can Seriously Change Your Outlook

So I know I haven't written. I know very few people care. It's been a rough and wild ride the last few weeks. Here are the summaries.

UN

I got screwed by Uhaul and am currently arguing with them about 50 dollars. Their website guarantees that if you do not have the truck you reserve when you get there, they will give you 50 dollars. I have sent them e-mails and filed a complaint by telephone. I odered a pickup truck with no cab to move my (queen) mattress from Sherman Oaks to Sam's  apartment in Burbank. This is approximately a 7 mile drive each way. When I got to the Uhaul, they weren't ready, and the first thing they did was say they didn't know why Uhauls website sent me to them, as they did not have pickups, only box trucks. Then I had to wait for the box truck to be readied, which took about 45 minutes. My reservation was 10-1, and I got into a 10 FOOT BOX TRUCK at around 11. It was a pain in the ass. Also the truck made this fabulous squeaking sound (not breaks) and sometimes seemed as if it didn't know how to shift up into the next gears. When i mentioned this to the owner of the facility he offered "Well we done checked the fluids out yesterday." Good. I'm proud of you. I don't know much about vehicles, but perhaps you shoudl check out the REST of the engine, eh? They also tried to get me to rent the truck for 24 hours. I don't know if they had a quota to meet, but they couldn't understand why I'd only need it for 2 hours.

So an 90 minutes later my mattress is firmly planted between the refridgerator and the wall in the kitchen, securing my eventual death in an incendiary-situation (incendiary  as in FLAMES, not as in I've riled a bunch of villagers with witty banter on why I should clearly be their king). Also securing my ability to have breakfast in bed by rolling over. 

I should explain that the apartment we're living in could very easily be a reality tv show. Here we go - I need maybe 5 cameras, with their feeds going directly into some sort of server. We put 3 cameras in the 'main room' and 2 in opposite corners of the kitchen. Our masterful main room is a multipurpose room. Most days of the week it's a living room. On sundays and some evenings it's a theatre for film or sports. On evenings it's a bedroom. There is a desk I've decided is our 'writing centre'. 

Let me elaborate further.

This room is 11x7. Or roughly half the size of a Taco Bell restroom.

And further yet.

We have 3 single guys between the 22 and 23 living in it.

So you can clearly see why my bed is in the kitchen.

...because I snore.

So the living/multipurpose/bedroom is shared by Justin and Sam. It houses 4 macintosh computers (my editing desktop and perosnal use laptop, sam and justin's laptops) and 3 xbox 360s (one from each of us). It houses a single full sized matress on the floor in one corner, and adjacent to that, a small love seat which turns into (justin's) bed.

Through the door is my fortress of solitude. We have a fridge about half the width of a normal fridge. Directly to the right of that, taking up 60% of the available floor space, is my queen sized mattress. I did not choose a queen; it was free. Free is good when you're living on ramen and quesadillas containing nothing but cheese.

Opposite my bed is the pantry - the top shelves contain our snacks and cooking utensils, the bottom shelves contain our garbage and suitcases. The fun part though is when you go to the sink.

Imagine this scenario: you are a guest for the first time in our tiny apartment, maybe, say, for football on a Sunday. You volunteer to clean, but you cannot find the soap. So you open the cabinet under the sink to get the proper detergants, right?

Wrong. Because if you did that, you would find my dresser. Also known as 4 giant ziplock bags filled haphazardly with my clothes. Which leads me to the second reason the last 2 weeks sucked.

DEUX

When tossing my bag under the sink in a rush to leave, a bag that contains my shoes bumped into the ( insert word that means pipe that's connected to the sinks drain here ) causing what i'd like to call a slight leak. I didn't notice. I instead went to Hollywood.

90 Minutes later sam calls. We have to go to a hardware store he says.

Shit. (I say)

3 hours, a trip to Lowes, 3 sausages sauteed with vegetables and many curses later, sam has adheared some sort of plastic-steel-bracelet of 'please god do not let the sink spew dirty water all over my chuck taylors'. It has thus far seemed to work. For a brief second I thought we'd need somewhere new for my clothes, like under a shelf in the bathroom. However now that my fine undergarments (read: fruit of the loom 4 pack) are save from ramen juice, we've decided to use that space for someting far greater: some sort of animal. Bunnies! 

(Note: not serious - we're not even sure if Sams lease is okay with multiple people being housed in it,  much less animals.)

Everything Electronic Fails [THREE!]

So we begin the process of arranging our electronics - this seems like nothing important, but we have multiple xbox's and computers and very ew grounded outlets. As we plug in an adapter, power surge, no electricity. And we have to call the super who is going to have t walk into our apartment and see a bed in the kitchen. Uh oh.

Luckily we find breakers. We throw them. We vow to curse the outlet with sorcery later.

Also during this entire week our internet was out which severely limited my job search, which is about as active as Kanye's ego but as successful as Patrick Swayze's battle with cancer.