Posts Tagged ‘bath tub’

Trolling Craigslist

July 31, 2018

It has begun in earnest.

Me looking for a new place to live, that is.

I dropped off the signed paperwork to the law office today that my landlady is employing to navigate the buyout.

I have officially been bought out.

I turned over the paperwork and in return I got 1/2 of the payment we agreed upon.

I will receive the other half when I turn in my keys.

I will have until October 31st to find a new place to live.

I actually looked at a place last night, but it wasn’t a good fit.

It was also a room-mate situation and although the price was great and on paper it really looked good, I realized that I was going to have to be really conscientious about what I am able to accept or not accept in a room mate.

I mean.

I have lived alone for the last five years.

I am really used to going to the bathroom naked.

For starters.

And two.

I am clean.

I am not a neat freak or obsessive, in fact, I could stand to sweep the floor a little more often, but I am tidy, my place is nice and I keep my things well.

I make my bed every morning, I wash my dishes after every meal, I like things a certain way.

I realized well I was looking at the place that while I liked the master tenant I noticed that the standards were different and for me to be comfortable I would end up cleaning a lot more and also that I suspected I would spend a lot of time in my room.

So.

I passed.

In the past that would have freaked me out a little bit.

A perfectly decent place, less rent than I pay now, good size room, laundry on site, parking.

On paper, it looks fabulous.

Not so much in person.

And I don’t want to denigrate the place I saw, it just wasn’t a good fit.

I do suspect I will end up with being on my own wherever I move to next.

I’m just so used to it and well, I have a PhD program starting soon, I am going to want and need quiet.

So I have been searching craigslist.

I don’t have to be super on top of it right yet, I do have time.

Part of the buy out was to get myself a little more time to move out, originally I was asked to move out by September 1st, which would have been over the five-day intensive in Pacifica that I have to attend to start my PhD.

Now I have until October 31st.

Which is nice and thus not too much pressure to begin the hunt, but it is there.

I know that there will be a time when I see the place and I am going to want to make a big move on it.

Grateful that I have the first half of the buyout payment to put down a deposit and first months.

And I decided to leave it in my checking account rather than put all the money in my savings.

If I need to I will be able to plop the money down immediately if something comes up.

I am also hoping, really so much so, that I will find my new place by word of mouth or referral from a friend, from my network, which is usually how I have found places.

I haven’t had a ton of luck with craigslist in the past, although I have found a couple of places.

My first being the two month sublet I had in the Mission at 22nd and York when I first moved to San Francisco nearly 16 years ago.

$650 a month for a big room in a big four bedroom house with a back yard and laundry and three levels and a big kitchen and lots of bathrooms.

Even then, I remember being told I was getting a great price for a room.

Rents in SF have never really been low, not after I lived in Madison, Wisconsin (though truth be told rents in Madison are always higher than elsewhere because of the high student population attending the UW), god I remember this one house I lived in, a house, the bottom of it at least, and how much space there was.

Oh.

God.

So much space.

Big bedroom with a walk in closet that had a window.

The closet had a window, in SF that closet would have been someone’s bedroom.

The bedroom had six windows.

Six!

I don’t have one where I live now.

Then the dining room with three big windows, the living room with a huge bay window and a screened in front porch that I alternatively rented or let friends crash on after I had broken up with my boyfriend, I needed help covering rent.

And the kitchen, which was huge, the bathroom was good-sized and yes, had a window.

There was a full basement I didn’t ever really use, except to wash laundry.

A back yard.

And a garage.

A fucking garage.

I paid $750 for this palace and that included utilities.

And I thought that was expensive.

I can’t find a studio in-law in the city right now for under $1600.

And the ones that are that price are shady, nasty, basement dwelling things.

I know that I need light and air and space after living in my little studio for the last five years.

I want a bathtub.

My god it would be nice to have a bathtub again.

I want laundry on site, wood floors, high ceilings, light, lots and lots and lots of light, windows, and yes, I know I’m crazy, a place to park.

I don’t necessarily need a garage or a driveway, I just need to live somewhere that it is relatively safe to park my car and I can park it close to where I live.

Which means.

The Tenderloin is out and that is where most of the “affordable” studios are, $1700-$2000 a month, and I am not, repeat, am not, living in the Tenderloin.

My car would get broke into every other day.

I would be dealing with rampant drug use and homelessness and crazy.

I like being out in the Outer Sunset at this point because it is quiet and though there are homeless folk, there’s not rampant drug use.

I need serenity where I live.

So yeah, not Tenderloin for me.

And before you ask.

No East Bay either or Pacifica or Sausalito.

I need to stay in the city proper.

My schedule is just too tight to navigate anything further out.

So.

The search has begun.

If you hear of anything.

Let me know.

Seriously.

Advertisements

Home

June 8, 2011

Done.  I am officially done cleaning and moving and arranging.  After work tonight I met with friends at the Bahai Center then Jennifer gave me a lift back to the house.  We tucked my bike into her amazing little car, really how does my bike fit in there without even having to take off the wheel?  Ginger, my little grand doggy, was snuggled up right next to me and I shared with Jennifer how I was going home and getting into the bath tub.

It was certainly an incentive when I got my first house-warming gift, a beautifully delicious smelling bar of almond honey milk soap from Jennifer, to put into action the thought that I had been flirting with.

I gave up on the idea that I was going to come home and go clean the studio some more.  I just could not do it.  I was so exhausted at work today that I lay down to take a nap as soon as the girls were down.  I did not do my writing at nap time like I normally do.  I put S. down and then turned on the monitor and put myself out on the couch.  I drifted off as soon as I heard her settle down.

I contemplated what cleaning I needed to do when I got back to the building tonight and I thought how I would go about it and then the idea drifted lovely and lazy across my mind, that perhaps, just perhaps, it would be off better use of my time to come home and take a bath.

As soon as Jennifer gave me the bar of soap I knew that the universe wanted exactly that for me.  I parked my bike in the “garage” pulled off my bike shoes, took care of the cats and striped down.  I filled the claw foot tub with bubbles and loads of hot water.  I folded a towel across the back and got the Vogue down from its perch.  I had put jazz on the Ipod player and lit candles in the other room.  Not so much so that I could see them, they were after all a hallway and two rooms away, but rather so that I could revel in the ambiance of lit candles in my space when I came out from my bath tub.

And oh what a bath tub.  Deep and long and wide.  The kind of bathtub that a woman like I dreams of being able to enjoy but does not ever think she shall possess–one that is long enough for her long legs.  I am 5’8 1/2″.  My bathtub is so long I was able to sit in it with my legs fully outstretched and my back was not even touching the back of the tub.  I was able to recline with my head on a folded towel and have my legs completely submerged.  Sublime.

This is the kind of tub I want to have my boyfriend sit in.  My “fantasy” boyfriend.  I had this flash from the Sex in the City episode where Sarah Jessica Parkers character, Carrie, is taking a bath with her boyfriend Aiden, who by the way I would have chosen over Mr. Big any fucking day.  Thank you very much.

Aiden sits in the tub with her.  Now SJP is a tiny little thing, so that bathtub did not have to be very big.  I don’t think I could even dream about that fantasy until tonight.

Hey universe, want to send me a boyfriend to sit behind me in my gigantic bathtub who will wash my hair.  That would be the epitome of sexiness.  I don’t want sex, I want a man to wash my hair.  I don’t admit it very often, but the act of having my hair washed is probably the  biggest turn on I have.  Maybe not so much as having my neck kissed, that may win out, but a man washing my hair (other than my hairstylist Calvin, love you man, but let’s just keep it professional), dreamy.  It may have something to do with the fact that I used to have an enormous amount of hair and it was always a chore to wash.

But there is something sensual and caring and pampering about it too.  Not to say that I needed it, or need it, it’s rather just a nice little fantasy at the moment.  I took my time in the bath soaking and “read” my Vogue from cover to cover.  I smelled the soap and bubbles and let myself finally relax.  I almost did not want to get out and write this blog, but this expression is also a part of my self-care and I do not think I could have gotten into bed happy with myself if I had not written.

Suffice to say, it was dazzling to walk back down the long hallway into my living space, see the candles flickering in the fireplace, hear the jazz issuing forth, and putting a kettle on, I made a little snack in the kitchen.  A snack I ate in another room away from my bed, right next to my sumptuous yellow roses I picked up for myself on Saturday when I was up in Noe Valley.  I looked around my apartment and almost cried.

You did it kid.  You really did it.


%d bloggers like this: