Tuesday 24 January 2006

Pic of the day: Could this become my new home?

Miracles while you wait!

Yesterday I wrote about the culture collision between my supposed landlord-to-be and myself. I still think he may have overestimated just how much worthless stuff there was. I KNOW that I have underestimated it, not just then but for years. If I had known, I would have started looking for ways to get rid of stuff long before. When I started carrying one shopping bag of books to the used bookstore each workday in November, I was sure I would be finished before Xmas. But when I came a bit out in January, I found that I had to carry several such bags each day over to the new apartment so I could continue my daily tradition into February. (Obviously this won't happen exactly as I imagined, now.)

Likewise when I bought a roll of black garbage sacks, I did not expect to use them all. But I did. And now I have started on a second. I am sure I won't use them all... but tomorrow I may think otherwise. But right now I'll be happy to be able to think at all. I feared we would kill ourselves with the electric stove. But you don't know what I'm talking about, do you? I better explain. Continued from yesterday.

***

After my supposed new landlord left in anger, I called my pious friend who have come here a couple times a year to talk and pray with me and borrow my Science Illustrated. (I had held off some for him, but they are locked in the apartment where I should have started living last night. Where I thought I should have started living. I was still in the thrall of illusion. My mind is slowly clearing now.)

I went to work early this morning carrying two bags of comic books for the used-book store I checked the Internet and posted a brief mention of the situation on LiveJournal. I took the bus back and returned with more comics, some paid bills that I ran through the shredder, and a bag of plastic bottles. (We get a small amount of money when we return them to the shop through an automatic machine. It is certainly better than just throwing them at the landfill.) Then I briefly explained to my boss and Staffman why I couldn't do my work as usual. They were quite understanding. But more than that. While I used the company's Internet connection to look for advertised apartments, Staffman used his family's contact network. And while I printed out a few tolerable prospects, they came up with what seems a godsend. I am still hesitant to believe it.

You know I have lived here for 21 years and been very happy about this place. Well, what we drove and looked at exceeds this in almost every way I can imagine. OK, there are less storage closets, but I won't need them. This is not a small basement. This is a house, minus a small basement. Its small basement, incidentally, will only be used occasionally and then by the heir to the house. The house itself is not large, but well suited to a couple or a small family. Or it was, in the generation that lived there. Couples these days like to either live in the city or have a larger home, so the owner's mother seemed genuinely interested in renting it out to me. So the rent is half again as much as the small basement I was bound for, but money has not been a worry for me for a long time (until now, when I have paid double rent for several months and no doubt will do so for the next month too, as I doubt I'll get anything back from Mr Neat. After all, he is unlikely to get new tenants before February!

More about the house. It is built in 1964, so is still fairly new and in great shape. The windows are big and reasonably well insulated (just not to the same level as I'm used to, which was unusual even for its time). At the same time it has a certain rustic charm, wallpapers are in stylized floral patterns rather than the modern abstractions, and in warm and friendly colors. The kitchen comes with an electric dishwasher but looks slightly reminiscent of the kitchen back home in the way cupboards flow naturally rather than being just stacked. The bedroom is absolutely studded with wardrobe doors: I would easily be able to fit in the too many clothes I have acquired during my visit to the mental world of upper middle class girls. (A world where clothes are of utmost importance, a language in themselves rather than a refuge from the elements and preying eyes.) I have learned my lesson well though: I will not be sucked into filling all available space. Not ever again. I expect to remember this shock treatment for the rest of my life, with the help of God and my years-ago entries.

The lady who showed me around was friendly and not just polite, she seemed genuinely pleased to rent it to a colleague of Staffman. While I don't write about work, in general, I think I must be allowed to say that this speaks highly about him and his wife, that just working with them is taken as a seal of approval. I feel humbled. Actually I am humbled, but they'll probably never read my journal so they won't know.

The place was so wonderful, she must surely have been tempted to raise the rent at the spot. But she did resist. Now I'll just have to wait and see if the dream comes true, or if I get my face ground in the dirt again. Perhaps Mr Neat miraculously finds out and call them to warn about Magnus Itland, the Destroyer of Houses... I like to think that I will do better in the future than in the past, but it is a true word and well worth receiving that "past behavior is the best predictor of future behavior". Right now, future is not something I feel I know much about, even by my standards. Talk about event horizon. Oh man.

***

My pious friend had promised to come before 4. A quarter to 5 I called him. He was in his car. Outside. Had tried to call me many times, but I never took the phone. You know why? Because my phone is in the locked apartment where I was supposed to live. I had forgotten to tell him that I had called from my mobile phone, and its number was listed as "unregistered". Huh? I never did that. I always thought people could call me back. Perhaps this is a feature of the iPaq. Anyway, that was a bummer, since we had so much to drive to the recycling station. We got two loads though, and in all fairness I did not have much more packed and ready. We could have taken more chairs, though.

I won't need chairs if I get the house, because they have a very nice set of living room furniture that they would like to just let stand there, if it is OK with me... Given that my chairs (except for my office chair) are around my age, it is very very OK. So I am going to throw it all away, except for the Boss Chair I got from SuperWoman's father, and the office desks and bookshelves. Oh, and the three commodes (two tiny and one natural size) that I bought new when I was young. Heh, they are still older than many married couples by now! I really am that old. *boggles*. But of course they have never been used except the first few months when I filled them. Well, almost not used. The chairs have been used almost to pieces, as have the foldable bed and the tables. It is not like I could give them to the poor, at least not the Norwegian poor, without offending them. American poor are supposedly starving, but it would not be cost-effective to send the old tables from here, and they are not edible anyway.

Getting the stove out was a battle for our very lives, though. Having worn the pulse watch since shortly after the event yesterday (except when sleeping), I got the chance to quickly see my max pulse again. And I was doing almost nothing of the work. Luckily my friend is a construction worker; even though he is older than me he is still strong. We rolled the stove end over end up the stairs. This worked, and we both survived, although I had been in doubt at the outset. The washing machine is left as an exercise for tomorrow, but although it is larger it is less compact so I am optimistic now. The bed likewise is rather big but at least it's not compact metal and there are places where you can hold it. I really hope we can do it.

I really hope so because the day after tomorrow, the floor workers are arriving. That means I have to get everything out by tomorrow. I better get up from the chair again. Sadly the obvious work is already done. Much of what remains is things that I want to keep, or at worst give away. Things that don't deserve to end in a landfill or recycling for a long time yet.

***

OK, a few hours later. I was right about the "underestimate" thing. It is now midnight and I have torn apart so many cardboard boxes, I have a sack full. I also have a sack almost full of plastic wrappings and plastic foam and the occasional floppy and such. There are glass bottles and plastic bottles. And I have collected a small bag of coins that are no longer legal currency, but have been phased out while they rested in the pockets of my many jackets mostly. I just put the change in the pocket and then next time I paid with a bank note again. Always nice to have some money in a crisis. Except it is no longer current and there must be enough for weeks of food if I had used it while it was still time. There is surely something to learn from this. For instance, DON'T WAIT UNTIL IT'S TOO LATE. Sadly that lesson is too late for me now ... unless I can apply it to something else. And one day, I'll be too late even for that.

I am a weird mixture of tired and excited, in a scared kind of way mostly. I should probably not perform more acts of destruction because the sound will keep awake the elderly lady upstairs. (If I get to rent the house, there won't be anyone upstairs and rarely downstairs either. OK, who in their right mind would even DREAM of ME living in a HOUSE??) I should probably sleep now and start again in the morning, but I am so wound up I feel like I couldn't possibly sleep for hours. (I did last night but it took me almost an hour from I went to bed, and I went to bed much later than now.)