You Know...

Searching for jobs via computer is a lot more fucking difficult when your computer crashes at least 5 times a day.

Easily Amused

So I've been wasting a lot of time over the last couple of days, mostly because of a complete lack of desire to face the reality I've selected for myself: jobless, in way, way over my head, 2,000 or more miles from 99% of my friends, and living alone.

So because of this, I've found numerous ways to prevent the inevitable freakout. Fortunately, I'm far too easily amused, so I've been having an easy time doing this. Here's just a few of them.

Entertainment #1 is my new shredder. I bought a paper shredder because:

1) I'm lazy, and I'm sick of always having to tear up credit card offers,
2) it was only ten bucks, and
3) I have a sick enjoyment of destroying things, especially if the process involves a cool noise.

So of course, any paper item that I'm going to throw out, goes through the shredder with a satisfying neeeeeeeeeeerow and a brand new set of confetti.

Assembly directions for furniture that I've already assembled. Cash reciepts from various fast-food joints across the country. My grocery list (after doing the actual shopping, of course).

I know this makes me sound like I've gone off the deep end, but I'm seriously very amused by this.

Entertainment #2 has been assembling my apartment. From actually physically assembling furniture to debating the precise locations of particular posters, this has kept me way, way more entertained and occupied than it should have.

I think this is partly because I cannot, for the life of me, find my watch. I took it off a couple days ago and it seems to have vanished into thin air. Or possibly accidentally gotten thrown out. Same difference.

There are at least half a dozen other clocks in this apartment, but for some reason, unless I have my watch on, I cannot keep track of time, and when I don't know what time it is, I can't tell how much time I've wasted.

It doesn't even occur to me that time has been wasted until I think, "Gee, haven't I seen (or at least heard) this same report on Headline News at least four times?" and I realize I've just spent four hours putting up posters, when I intended to spend ten minutes.

Entertainment #3 is sort of an offshoot of #2, and it's cleaning. Now I know most of you who have ever seen a space that I have actually lived in are laughing at this, I am, sadly enough, serious.

I have very little extra space here, so basically, I have to clean, or I'm going to be tripping over things left and right. Now I know some of you are saying, "Ellen, that's exactly what you and anyone who attempted to enter your room were doing before."

Touché.

However, the avoidance of reality has provided me with an extremely strong motivation to clean. And really, this is nothing new. My dorm room would generally get cleaned up around finals time, when I should have been studying.

Dealing with reality is like studying times 100 (at least), so my entire apartment right now is pretty much pristine. But I don't know what I'm going to do when my apartment is completely together and clean.

I guess I'm going to have to get a job or something.

The Great Fridge Fiasco Of '03

There are many quirky things about Los Angeles, but one of the odder ones is that about 2/3 of the apartments out here don't come with a refrigerator.

There isn't really much of an explanation of this, other than the cheapness that seems to be inborn in landlords. I've heard half a dozen theories, everything from landlords getting sued for food spoilage in a power outage to the very strict rent control out here making them unwilling to have a big-ticket item they'd have to replace if it breaks.

I think, in the end, it pretty much boils down to the landlords simply saying, "If we can get tenants to shell out for this instead of shelling out ourselves, so much the better."

So the place I finally managed to get was alas, one of the ones that was fridgeless. So I went to Sears, dutifully listened to the salesman trying to sell me a $1000 fridge, and ended up getting a much cheaper but good-sized energy efficient model with an icemaker thrown in.

The advantage of the Energy-efficient model is that the LA Department of Water and Power gives you $100 bucks back when you buy one, so a nicer fridge ends up being about the same price as a crappier one, plus the money you save on electricity.

So anyway, after plunking down the old plastic, they told me, okay, the soonest we can get this delivered is Saturday. All right, fine, I said, and the creepy automated voice called me Friday night and told me to eagerly await my fridge between 11:30am and 1:30pm.

I was very happy to be getting the fridge, because I've basically been eating out for the last month and a half straight. This is not only unhealthy, but very, very expensive. I was already sick to death of fast food.

So of course, I get a call at 10am Saturday morning. "Uh, yeah, we can't deliver your fridge. The one we were going to give you was damaged in the warehouse. We can't get you one until Monday."

NOOOOOOOOOOO!

So another two days' worth of waiting and McNuggets later, the fridge finally showed up. I had ordered a fridge with the hinge on the left side, since that's the way every fridge I've ever had opens. I also figured that the wall is on the right and I don't want to be constantly hitting the wall.

What I failed to account for is that my kitchen is narrow enough and the door is wide enough that I wouldn't be able to open the door from that direction, since I'd have to stand right next to the wall for the fridge door to swing out.

I thought, oh, shit, now they're gonna have to take it back. However, fortune actually smiled on me for once, and the guys who delivered my fridge were able to switch the doors around quite easily, so that now I might actually be able to access my food.

So now, at the ripe old age of 22, I now own my first major appliance. And of course, the main things in it are 1) alcohol 2) milk and 3) frozen food.

Because you've gotta have a balanced diet.

The New Apartment

Well, I finally managed to get an apartment.

I am now a resident of Venice, California. Which, according to an article Coop sent me, is "America's smorgasbord of the rationally challenged."

I should fit right in.

Actually, I'm technically a resident of the City of Los Angeles, but for some reason the mailing addresses in LA occasionally go by neighborhood (Hollywood, Venice, Studio City) instead of by actual city (Santa Monica, West Hollywood, Burbank). I suspect this confuses the US Postal Service somewhat, but frankly, I don't care.

I cracked and got a 1 bedroom, after talking to assorted loonies about possibly getting into a roommate situation, but I deduced that I'd probably be a lot happier living by myself and reveling in my own fruitcakeness than dealing with someone else's.

I haven't had a lot of time to do much besides put my apartment together. I've been putting together furniture and such for the last few days, which has been a pain in the ass, but now that things are pretty much together, it looks like an actual apartment.

Now I just have to jump through about 3 million more logistical hoops (changing car registration and driver's license, getting a job, etc.) and I'll be all set.