when i lived in la i’d say my landlord was a slum landlord. i lived in a beautiful part of west hollywood, but my apartment complex was this little bit of slumdom in the middle of lots of people with money.
so now i’m sort of in the same boat. except this neighborhood is a little more iffy,and this landlord seems to be even cheaper, which i didn’t think actually possible.
I HAVE HEAT, which is the most important thing. the guy fixed it today. but then there’s the issue of the stove, with the knob that will not move. i talked to the guy who is supposed to fix it and he said that the thermostate is broken and he can’t find a part and he can’t call his suppliers till monday but he doesn’t think there will BE a part to be found. “so she’ll have to buy me a new stove?” i asked him. and he said “she won’t buy you a NEW one,” and his tone was SO FUCKING SNOTTY. i said “at least i need one that WORKS.” YOU FUCKING STUPID FUCKER. i left all that off of the end of my sentence of course. right now i sort of hate men whoe come to work on things. i think it’s just that this is a slum landlord. she lives in florida – she met a guy and moved there and she wants to sell this building and she doesn’t want to be bothered and she doesn’t want to put any money at all into the place which i can understand BUT I NEED A STOVE.
damn.
but i do have heat. hot water. wireless internet.
the fixtures are all shoddy. the faucet in the kitchen probably cost about three dollars. maybe less. it’s very very crappy. the water was dribbling out and dad came over and fooled around with it and by banging on it he managed to fix it. shoddy.
i’m in this place for exactly six months, not one day longer. i’m really hoping that once i have a working stove, i’ll never have to talk to this slum landlord again.
that’s my plan, anyway.
so tonight i went to a retirement party for a high-ranking law enforcement official. he started a band and the band played at his own party and i videotaped it which was fun. all guys either want to be in bands or are in bands, is what i’ve decided. it’s a very very guy thing.
it was a perfectly nice party, plus i figured that my purse absolutely could never ever be safer than at this party. cops everywhere.
there was plenty of food and alcohol, which i had plenty of. but then i waited patiently for the retirement cake.
THERE WAS NO RETIREMENT CAKE.
HOW CAN A PERSON RETIRE WITH NO RETIREMENT CAKE?
i bet they had retirement cake at his retirement party at the office. but YOU ALWAYS NEED CAKE. like i said, the food was quite good. BUT I NEED CAKE.
that’s all i’m saying.
if i ever had a substantial enough job in my life where i’d actually get to retire, of course i’d expect cake. i don’t think i’m ever going to achieve this, to be perfectly honest.
but luckily i can make my own cake whenever i want.
AT LEAST WHEN MY OVEN IS FIXED.
monday.
did i tell you what the very serious gas company guy said about my furnace in my new duplex? he said it’s MOBILE HOME FURNACE; he’s never seen a furnace like that in anything but a MOBILE HOME.
SLUM LANDLORD.
i do have pretty nice hardwood floors and 12 foot ceilings and i’m going to be very content when i’m actually living there with all my stuff and my kitties.
hopefully nothing will break in the next six months, that’s all i have to say.
and now, sleep.
i hope your weekend is filled with fun. might i suggest a trip to disneyland? i was toying with the idea of going there when i’m in LA but there won’t be time.
ok ok ok,
friday night grace.