House Hunting Was Invented in Hell

Here are the facts of the day.

1. Our landlord is selling our super cute, weird little house. We might have to move.
2. We don’t want to move. No way.
3. Our landlord made us a sweet offer to leave early. I wanted to take it, but Mauro doesn’t.
4. We looked at three or four overpriced and depressingly inadequate places to live yesterday. It pretty much solidified the fact that we do not want to move, like a blood clot in a horrible day filled with emotion and hysteria.
5. Not much can get past a clot of the emotionally-charged variety.
6. If you have a cheap, huge, free-standing guest house in the Hollywood Hills where Mauro can set up a recording studio, Sabina can have a yard and I can sit and write all day while blue birds flit about around orange trees, well, we’d really like to move in.
7. My favorite Shirley Temple movie is “The Blue Bird.” I love Mytyl and Tyltyl.
8. We really don’t want to move.
9. The words “Beverly Hills adjacent” are intentionally vague and often misleading. Just say “crappy West L.A. hell hole.”
10. The best place we saw on Craigslist was a 500 square foot “tree house” in the hills off Beverly Glen for $1,850. Tiny, yes, but canyon-y. I always wanted to live in the canyons. This one was on Crater Lane. Couldn’t they think of a better name?
11. As it ends up, under rent control, it’s kind of hard to kick us out. Sweet deal or no, we decided to stay until the absolute last second. Which makes me nervous. It could be six months, it could be never. So we’re still here.
12. We stayed up late last night watching “Boogie Nights.” And it made me happy.