Captain Ra’s Log, Stardate May 31, 2007 – 1:33am EST
Exhausting.
That’s what house-hunting is.
Yesterday started out dismally, with an apartment downtown that was tiny and expensive, then an old and smallish apartment in Squirrel Hill that was unlovely and a little gross. Then we had lunch at a jewish deli and saw another apartment that was much better and much bigger, and went to our next appointment after getting lost some and being late, drove through the ghetto to a street that was an oasis of gothic Victorian French-quarter charm and a house that seemed far too lovely and stunning to be practical, like having chocolate cake for dinner. After that we saw another place that was lovely and had a fantastic kitchen and bath, and a lot of space and a garage, but was too far away and too much in a ‘settle down and have a family’ friendly and attractive suburb.
Today we started with two more appointments in Squirrel Hill, the first with a man who could only be described as a slum-lord who was charging a lot considering his icky apartment and demeanor – I don’t recall what he was wearing as I can only picture him in a stained wife-beater promising to get around to fixing the gas-leaking stove sometime next week, and the second with a man who seemed a little crazy and showed us an apartment that he told us had an all new stainless steel applianced kitchen, only for us to discover that, as of yet, that kitchen is still the ugly original and they are in the process of remodeling…plus, parquet floors, which I find rather unattractive. Afterwards, we met Briggs’ sister for lunch at TGIFridays and I had a Dreamsickle, courtesy of Brendan getting me hooked—it was hot out and that sounded splendid. Then we got Briggs fitted for a tux and went to a pet store where I got to play with ferrets. They bite a lot. We departed the petstore and parked on the magical Victorian street, and walked downtown and back to get a feel for the distance before meeting the flamboyant manager again and measuring the room and checking to see if the things that were less than perfect were really all THAT bad. They weren’t. Exhausted, we drove to the Southside, got ice-cream and surveyed the influx of shiny new shops—amazing! Cheesecake Factory included. Then we went to see the dragging 3 hours that is PotC 3 and were largely unimpressed except by some of the cinematography and costuming, and the ending, feeling that, overall, too much was stuffed into one movie and the cheese factor was high even for Pirates.
We are now back at the house, and it is time for clean teeth and clean face and then sleep.
No pictures this time. Sorry.
