Or so it feels that way.  I feel like Will Ferrell’s character in “Stranger Than Fiction”, like I’m a character in someone else’s book and I’m only here for the reader’s amusement.

I won’t exaggerate the week’s events, there’s no need to, this all really happened or is currently happening.  Revel in the hilarity that is my life………………………….

Tuesday, March 1st

With my roommate needing to return home because of an emergency and me unable to find someone to sublet the bedroom to we were forced to break the lease on our apartment 6 months early.  I found a place, reasonably priced and in the neighborhood that I had grown fond of over my time in LA.  We pack the first run of my belongings into the backseat of his BMW and proceed to move me into my new place.  I call the guy subletting the room to me, he meets us at the back door and in we go.  I snake my way into (what I assumed was) my new bedroom pop open the door and what do I see?  The “previous” tenant’s belongings were still in place, unpacked and very much not in shape to move anything anytime soon. The three of us agree “Oh, he must just be coming to get all that tonight.”  So back to the apartment we go to pick up run number two.  Not even in the door for more than 20 seconds I receive a phone call from my “new” “Landlord”.  The guy that was supposed to be leaving and moving in with his “mates” from Australia wasn’t doing that and I needed to grab my things and find someplace new to live.  So, let’s recap: Breaking the lease on my old apartment and unable to move into my new one equals…………………….. HOMELESSNESS!!!!!!!!  Or, so I thought.  We frantically re-pack my stuff into the BMW and head to the nearest Starbucks to use their wi-fi so I can use my roommate’s laptop to check Craigslist for anyone showing a rental immediately.  I sent some emails, made some phone calls, but found nothing I could view that evening.  I did come across a few Hostels, dorms for “transient” adults.  They’re mainly geared towards foreigners backpacking through the SoCal and space for regular folk like me is rather sparse.  How much does a room for a “transient” adult such as myself cost??  Anywhere from $65-$85 a night. Not to mention I still have all that crap I need store until I find a permanent spot.  The hostels were a no go.  It was just cheaper to stay in our current apartment and pay the pro-rated rent, around $49 per day, on top of our early termination fee.

Wednesday, March 2nd

I returned some email messages, returned some calls and was able to set up a few appointments for Thursday.  I sold some phones.  I ate some chicken.  I said stupid stuff on twitter.  Wednesday was a fairly normal day……………………………..

Thursday, March 3rd

Which pretty much was a giant fucking set up because Thursday was just a mindfuck.  My first appointment was at 10 am, 5 blocks north of my current location.  “IT’S TWO BLOCKS FROM THE SUNSET STRIP, HOW BAD CAN IT BE?” I said to myself.  Well, let’s just say Hollywood isn’t what we were told it was when we were kids.  I don’t know that its ever been.  But this, this was…………. It’s a  6 bedroom, 3 bath…….. that houses……….. 20 people.  The ceilings were exposed (like my basement was off of 147th), the kitchen had 3 refrigerators, the rooms had paper thin plywood for walls.  I mean, they made rooms where there weren’t ever supposed to be rooms.  The laundry room was outside (even for SoCal it was in a weird spot for a house).  And to top it off the options for my bed were in a tiny crevice upstairs meant for 4 people or…………………….. in the same room as the 45 year old mexican maid/landlord’s aunt.  (I wish I were making this up.)  I said some nice things to the guy who showed me the place and got in the car hoping the next spot would blow me away.  Yes, I was desperate, but I still had standards, ya know? And oh yeah, I became and uncle for the 6th time that morning.  All at once, all day I felt happy, sad, nervous, excited, determined, doubtful, worried, hopeful.  So, the second location (this day felt like all the worst excerpts of ‘Million Dollar Listing’ they could put together) was up near the “Upright Citizen’s Brigade”, how bad could it be!?  (Fool me twice, is that what they say?)  Look, I grew up in the ghetto.  Went to school in the ghetto.  Played baseball in the ghetto.  But I have never and will never be “ghetto”.  Also, I love my people, but some of you all have got to be doing  just a “lil” better.  I say all this because the guy who showed me the second place was either: A) A film student who likes to smoke a lil weed and is just trying to make it in LA like the rest of us; or B) A drug dealer who uses Craigslist ads as a way to sell his product or trick people into checking out the place so he can hem them up and rob them.  Either way, I wasn’t having it. (PRO TIP: If you want someone to rent your place do not have 1) Your shirtless, tattooed “brother” hanging out at the kitchen counter or 2) Some random dude that you pretended to not know but who really lives in the bedroom ask me to see this awesome “closet.”)  I marinated on the situation, do I look for more places or do I just roll with the house that reminds me of “The Real World” on steroids??  I needed to make a move and get this over with so I chose to move in with the mexican woman.  She doesn’t speak english, she let me have a TON of closet space and she lets me watch “The Walking Dead”, so, it aint all bad.

There’s more, but I’m tired, so I’ll tell you guys about the rest tomorrow.

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