Does this seem familiar to you too?
True believers, we move this weekend. Here's how it all came down.
Three (four?) weeks of searching, the toughest aspect of which is the way the broker system in Boston rules the market, comandeering Craig's List like a personal tool of their trade, which I think is gross misuse of a community resource. I find the perfect place in my second outing, but when I call 45 minutes after leaving that broker and that apartment, I've been scooped: someone's written a check in the time it took me to show my partner the pictures I'd taken. About two weeks ago, I find a listing for a non-broker unit in Somerville that fits our needs. We visit, we like it, we take it, the end. And all without a broker fee, so take that. Lease signed, truck booked (curse your black hearts and low rates, U-Haul, for I am rolling the dice on you again), and we're more than half packed. It's half the size of our current suburban travesty, and I'm looking forward to living small and better with a gas stove, hardwood floors, front porch. House of the Rising Somerville.
First rule of moving: GET RID OF IT.
"Second rule, is:" well stacked is half packed.
Three: call a few friends.
(Some readers may note that this is the same third rule as "how to set up your backyard pool.")
That's how we had the smoothest of moves (at least, to a point) last August, and that is how we will have the finest move this Saturday. I will lean out the window and yell "so long, suckers!" as we drive away.
+ + +
More is afoot as we transition to the House of Effective Use of Space. Bed buying? Certainly. More Ikean shelf units? Don't mind if I do. Long-term mattress sharer and co-cooker, roommate and chosen life partner going to Rome for the whole summer? Why not. Tune in for her exploits at the agricultural office of the UN--and all the papal miscellany you can possibly stomach (more, even!)--at romarama.blogspot.com (now, with my camera!). (I suggested she call the blog "Shit Be Old," but I got vetoed.)
How shall I cook for one?
How will the cat react to the sudden 50% drop in number of Moms?
Will my plan of "drink more this summer" lead to troubles or the most fun of all?
How far can I burn through our 180-item Netflix cue?
She leaves on the 2nd of June, then we both turn 28, then we'll see. We'll only see.
Three (four?) weeks of searching, the toughest aspect of which is the way the broker system in Boston rules the market, comandeering Craig's List like a personal tool of their trade, which I think is gross misuse of a community resource. I find the perfect place in my second outing, but when I call 45 minutes after leaving that broker and that apartment, I've been scooped: someone's written a check in the time it took me to show my partner the pictures I'd taken. About two weeks ago, I find a listing for a non-broker unit in Somerville that fits our needs. We visit, we like it, we take it, the end. And all without a broker fee, so take that. Lease signed, truck booked (curse your black hearts and low rates, U-Haul, for I am rolling the dice on you again), and we're more than half packed. It's half the size of our current suburban travesty, and I'm looking forward to living small and better with a gas stove, hardwood floors, front porch. House of the Rising Somerville.
First rule of moving: GET RID OF IT.
"Second rule, is:" well stacked is half packed.
Three: call a few friends.
(Some readers may note that this is the same third rule as "how to set up your backyard pool.")
That's how we had the smoothest of moves (at least, to a point) last August, and that is how we will have the finest move this Saturday. I will lean out the window and yell "so long, suckers!" as we drive away.
+ + +
More is afoot as we transition to the House of Effective Use of Space. Bed buying? Certainly. More Ikean shelf units? Don't mind if I do. Long-term mattress sharer and co-cooker, roommate and chosen life partner going to Rome for the whole summer? Why not. Tune in for her exploits at the agricultural office of the UN--and all the papal miscellany you can possibly stomach (more, even!)--at romarama.blogspot.com (now, with my camera!). (I suggested she call the blog "Shit Be Old," but I got vetoed.)
How shall I cook for one?
How will the cat react to the sudden 50% drop in number of Moms?
Will my plan of "drink more this summer" lead to troubles or the most fun of all?
How far can I burn through our 180-item Netflix cue?
She leaves on the 2nd of June, then we both turn 28, then we'll see. We'll only see.
Labels: Boston, good tiiiimes, moving
posted by Nora Rocket at 9:26 PM
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