May 31, 2004
I rented a loft apartment above the garage behind a house on the west side of Santa Barbara. The house is at 907 W. Valerio St., which I suppose puts me at 907 ½ W. Valerio, Santa Barbara, CA 93101. The bottom floor of my apartment is 20′ by 20′, and is about half kitchen/bathroom, and half living room. The upper floor is about half that size (above the kitchen). So I’ve got about 600 sq. feet. And, now, the pictures, because you don’t really care about the other stuff until you see pictures.
The kitchen. Suitable for a gourmet.
The stove, which for God knows what reason I took a nice closeup of.
The bathroom, right off the end of the kitchen (Hey, if you were building an apartment above a garage, I bet you wouldn’t want to try to run plumbing up two walls)
A closer-up on the bathroom. Cozy.
The west end of the living room, which is a massive walk-in closet. The other end of the living room is relatively boring. So boring, in fact, that I forgot to take a picture. I think it has a window or something.
The long and arduous climb to the bedroom. Also, The Ashleigh, who seemed quite taken with the place.
The east end of the bedroom. The west end looks nearly the same, except that there’s no red trunk in it. I mean. There could be, if I moved the red trunk over there. But there’s only one red trunk.
Also, I should note that the little window cut-outs (which have a name; Peg told me) are exactly 1.5″ taller than I am, which is just tall enough for me to walk without worrying about hitting my head.
The treacherous descent.
Rich and Claudia and their 7-year-old daughter (whose name escapes me) live in the house below, along with a very lovable dog named Lizzie. The apartment allows cats, so I foresee the pitter-patter of kitten feet in the near future. All the utilities are paid, and there’s a washer and dryer I can use, and there’s high speed internet, and my cell phone gets a strong signal inside the apartment. I have to park on the street, but since it’s a little residential neighborhood, I don’t think there will be any problem finding a spot (certainly all the times I came over there were plenty of spaces).
I’m about a mile from the closest beach, and less than two miles from the wharf and the harbor. I’m five to eight blocks from the freeway (depending on which way you’re coming or going). I’m less than a mile to work.
May 28, 2004
Ok. I’m now in San Luis Obispo, and near enough a wireless transmitter to post these. And by “these,” I actually just mean one picture. Not only is this one taken from an angle where the paint looks good, the others have me in them, and I woke up right when my Dad got there and took pictures, so those pictures need not be shared.
Ain’t she pretty?
May 27, 2004
Seriously. In two days, I’ve had two Miata drivers wave to me as we were driving with our tops down. That’s one per day, which easily trumps my previous record, with the ’85 Camry, of none in a year and a half.
Lots of good name suggestions, so far. I’m leaning toward Maggie, right now. You just can’t go wrong with alliteration. It also made me recall Mia, which is the name I’d have chosen for her if I were four (to which my late goldfish Goldy and salamander Sally could easily attest). I do like the name Trendy, but for some reason I think that people just wouldn’t get the joke on a car. With a person, it works, somehow. And not necessarily as a joke, either. It just works.
And pictures have been taken! And will be up, too. Soon. I’m not totally sure when, though, as they’re on my laptop and I don’t know when I’ll be somewhere with wireless.
May 25, 2004
I’d post a picture, but I sold my camera.
She’s red, with a black top. Changed her fluids today, and tomorrow a new windshield goes in.
And she needs a name.
May 22, 2004
Ok, so I want a Mazda Miata. I’ve always liked them, they’re fun to drive, and you can get them cheap. At least, some hypothetical person might be able to get them cheap.
The first one I saw, I almost ended up buying, but there were complications. The guy rubbed my Mom the wrong way. Like, the way Satan rubs people the wrong way. Even now, several days after she saw the guy, I’ll wander into the room, and hear snippets of conversation, as she’s telling umpteenth friend/relative about it on her new cell phone:
“…And then just repeated the same line over to me… bad feeling about it… not overreacting!…”
Oh, yes. We’ve got cell phones now. I’m at 805-252-3299 (Santa Barbara Area Code!) and you should totally call to chat. Especially on nights and weekends. Or, if you still have to pay long distance (chumps), tell me to call and chat on nights and weekends.
I saw a much nicer one down in Marin, with way low milage (58K, for a 12 year old car), and in very nice shape in general. But I didn’t think it was worht the $5000 he was asking for it. I was, it turns out, wrong, as someone bought it from him today. Damn.
So, this first Miata, it seemed pretty good, and checked out mechanically, but then I saw on CARFAX that it may have had the odometer rolled back. So it may not be around 100K miles, it could be as much as 200K. I didn’t actually notice this until after I made an offer. When I mentioned it to him, he claimed not to know what I was talking about, and had records for the time he’d owned it. Did I mention that this guy is a car dealer? Yeah, so he knows exactly what I was talking about. But I was still shakily going through with it. We made arrangements to sign the papers and exchange money.
And then his wife calls me to get some info on me to fill out the bill of sale, and casually mentions that there’s a loan on the car, so they need to square it with the bank before I actually get the title mailed to me.
So I’m going to call that one off. Which means that I get to spend the next few days car shopping. Again. woo.
Except for tomorrow, which I’m spending helping Eric paint his house, because that way, whichever car I do end up buying, it’s $150 closer to being mine.
I was looking over the rules for what you can buy with Borders Gift Cards at Amazon (which is magically affiliated in some manner), and came across the following two, rather foolish rules:
- Borders Gift Cards cannot be used for the purchase of Amazon.com gift certificates.
- Returns of merchandise purchased with a Borders Gift Card will be credited in the form of an Amazon.com e-mail gift certificate.
So, in other words, they can, you just have to be willing to pay for shipping of something, and wait a few weeks. :rolleyes:
I’m sure that makes sense to someone in an expensive suit somewhere.
May 19, 2004
For an excellent description of the actual graduation and proximate after-effects, I direct you to Sarra, who did a wonderful job of cataloging them. I was in a sort of daze for most of it, either excited or bored, and not quite able to concentrate on anything. The last half of Scripps’ graduation was good too. And damned if those little bite-sized cashew pies they had at Scripps weren’t worth going back for fourths.
That night, AB and Kyle wanted to do something, but there was nothing to do. Everything was closed, and done, and packed, which was driven home by the repeated response, to all of Kyle’s suggestions and requests, of “it’s packed.” <digression>His bedding for the nights he was there consisted of a couch, a fitted sheet (unfitted), a towel (which was also used as a towel), and the curtain, which was still attached to the wall. I still claim that that’s better than what I had to sleep on when I visited him Freshman year and had to sleep on the floor</digression>
We went for a walk. For about an hour, actually. Winding our way down through the campuses and then through the Village until we finally turned around at First street. We talked some, but I have no recollection of what we talked about. Mostly I was just aware of my memories. I had a cascade of images from the past few years running through my head, and it was all I could do to concentrate on moving past them.
I remembered the weekly Saturday trek that Nikhil and Phil and I made down to the Coop store to spend our flex, before we became jaded and lazy, and ran out by Tuesday after frequent trips to the Muddhole.
I remembered the first dance competition in the ballroom, how Sarra and Katie and I trembled in each others arms, and how proud we were at what we won.
I remembered a trip with Lisa down to the Library in the pouring rain, and the heat of the soup we had, and how when I came back, I got so wet that I gave up on my umbrella, and just danced through the rivers in the streets.
I remembered first meetings with old friends, freshman jitters and senior angst, first kisses and final goodbyes, and I looked away into the unusually clear night sky, because then as now, it was all I could do not to cry.
May 17, 2004
Ok. So it looks like we’re going to be off by an hour or so for, uh, the reasonable future.