I am a Midwestern girl, and subsequently have Midwestern sensibilities. That is to say, I think logically, don't believe in buying a purse that costs me more than $30, and think Target is just about the happiest place on Earth. So what happens when you put someone like me smack dab in the middle of Southern California? Well, you learn a few things.
1) Those of you who live outside of CA, and read about CA politics on the Internet or in your local paper probably think, "It's not that wacky. Is it?" Uh, yeah it is. I mean, they elected the Terminator for crying out loud.
2) Everybody smokes crack. It's the only explaination I have come up with to explain the real estate market out here. Look in the L.A. Times and you see cardboard boxes in East L.A. going for $350,000.
The latter has become the issue of the moment. I have hit the official California right of passage. Yes, my apartment building went condo! The management company (let's call them Crack Smokers LLC from here on out), decided to take some very nice apartments, and try to convince suckers that they're condos. Condos with thin walls, too-small AC units, and electrical outlets that have been loose since the day we moved in. Anyway, they're condos now! Buy your lovely 1200 sq. ft., two bedroom unit for (ready for this?) $450,000! Actually that was the original asking price. They then tried to convince us to buy the place for $400,000.
Since The Boyfriend and I are not crack smokers - we declined.
But you'd be amazed how many people are getting roped into these white elephants. Young couples (that would be around my age - 31) with no equity, and no funds to buy a real house. So they think, buying a condo will pave the way. Well it might - assuming the market doesn't bottom out before then (and it's already cooled considerably) and you're stuck with a "condo" that's really a very nice apartment and no one is crazy enough to take it off your hands.
So yeah, we're moving. I should state here that I like to move about as much as getting a kidney removed - but this is an instance where I have no choice. It's either start smoking crack, or move. So we put a deposit down on a new apartment and will be moving by the end of the month. Which means I get to pack up our lives - again (we moved to California 2 years ago back in April and The Boyfriend was already out here so guess who got to do all the packing by herself?). Once again I'm stealing Baker & Taylor boxes from work. Once again, I get to go through our closets and start pitching stuff (this is actually the one benefit to moving really).
I just want to curl up into a little ball and hide from the world until this is all over. Cue violin music here. Want to place any bets on how much reading I actually get done in October?
**Edited** - Snoopy Dance! The Tigers aren't going to get swept! This means my older sister (let's call her the bitch) will get to use the luxury box seats her husband was offered for the Saturday night game in Detroit. I'm green I tells ya! Green!