The long awaited day had finally come.  I was ready to get my own place, ready as in financially, mentally, spiritually, and emotionally – ready.  Roommates are lovely, or at least have the potential to be, but I find independence to be just as, if not more, lovely in this particular situation.  Similar to a teenager who has spent his driving career sharing the family car and finally gets his own, it doesn’t matter if it’s a third-time-hand-me-down-junker, it is AWESOME because it is his VERY OWN.  Or maybe I’m just overly territorial, obsessively independent, and hard to live with.  Regardless, the day I decided I could justify my own place was an exciting day indeed.

Apartment shopping, selection, moving, unpacking, getting stuff fixed, etc etc etc… was not.

As I have previously mentioned, I am not a fan of spending a lot of time shopping (“a lot of time” being defined as “over twenty minutes”).  This being the case, I was ready to sign at the first apartment complex I visited.  True, the first place  was tiny, true, the doors seemed to be made of tin foil and the walls of paper, true, every car in the parking lot looked like the above mentioned junker the tenant got when he was a teenager, but it was cheap!  And they had vacancy!

Luckily some veteran apartment complex dwellers had a little chat with me before I started handing over security deposits.  I conceded that I should probably take at least a few days to look at my options.  *sigh*

The next place that almost got me was a charming little complex that advertised “duck ponds, with ducks included!”  Really?  I was sold on their intelligent marketing content alone!  No one includes ducks these days!

I was also amused by the tours that focused on their “workout facility” as a selling point.  Please, you’re talking to a former MVP member.  I am allowed to be elitist about exercise equipment.  I do not find your stationary bike and 30 year old treadmill to be world-class.  Nor am I impressed by your TV stand with a sign stating “Don’t worry, new TV coming soon” on sun-faded paper with a hand written note asking “when is soon???”

Another note:  If your apartment complex had a fire, SEVERAL MONTHS AGO, and you still haven’t bothered to even replace the torched siding, I’m not even stopping my car to ask about rent…  Seriously.

And lastly, why in the WORLD would you be ANNOYED by a charming young lady such as myself stopping in your office to ask about availability.  Excuse me, I’m potentially offering to give you thousands of dollars of my hard earned money.  Am I interrupting your solitaire game?

All grief aside, I found a place.  I painted a couple walls red and black, scrounged up some furniture that all sorta matched, put up my posters, bought a couple pots, plates and silverware type items, and called it home.   Slow maintenance, random things not working, bugs in the bathroom, and police in the parking lot* aside, I LOVE IT.

*I foresee more “Grand Rapids Ghetto” posts in the future, perhaps?  This wasn’t my goal, I swear.  Some things you just don’t know until you spend some time there…