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Alas, El Cajon, I have hardly gotten the chance to know you.
It was only a couple months ago that I showed up, with a trunk full of luggage, to make this character-clad environment my home, and now it seems I will be out in the world once more, seeing as our lease is up a month sooner than planned.
But it has been a fun ride! The sounds of sirens in the distance, the arguing downstairs, the mad scramble for decent parking...this is what home is made of. I remember leaning up against my bed when I moved into our palace (also known as our lovely apartment), chatting with my roommate about...neccesities.
She was fiddling with something when she finally caught my eye. "So Jess, do you have...I dunno...I car club?"
I sat up a little straighter. "Uh, no, but I was thinking of getting one." A pause. "Should I?"
Light laughter. "Yes."
One of other roommates as had her car joyrided--twice--but thankfully, that little club stopped her car from wandering off in the middle of the night! Somehow though, various belongings, such as CDs, occaisionally leave the safety of the vehicle...
So I got me a Master Club, or whatever the heck that thing is called, and I swear, when I take in my hands to lock it down, I'm afraid someone will think it's a machine gun and mow me down. Okay, a little paranoid.
My favorite parking spot, however, happens to have smatterings of broken glass scattered around it. I don't take that as particularly good sign. Thankfully, the whole parking situation gives me a great excuse to stay in for the night. Nothing sounds more sure than, "No, I can't go with you: I finally got close to the complex and I'm not surrendering that spot!" Solid defense.
But really, cars are just big hunks of metal on wheels! The people really make the neighborhood...into what, I'm not sure, because truthfully, I've only spoken to a handfull of them. I do know the ones I met seem very nice. Extremely. Rather friendly...
My roommate shuffled in just as I was plopping down in the living room to take a break from unpacking. "Hey, do you want some of this? It's bear claw, I think."
Unpacking=hunger, so I dug in. "Cool, thanks! Whose is it?"
And she laughed. "It's from one of our neighbors. She used to stop me and my cousin all the time and just give us food! We try to say no, but..." And I ended up facing her myself.
She is a sweet, elderly lady, and I felt more than guilty for taking her food. Of course, she seemed to grow momentarily deaf whenever I'd politely decline, so I guess it worked out. I got invited up for some jell-o salad (made of vegetables, by the way), but was told it had to set, but "not to worry, because it would be over before the evening!"
Sure enough, the next day I walk in, and one of my roommates shows me the salad, as green and...fresh...as ever, asking if I met with our generous neighbor yet.
The only other person I've spoken at any length two was a kind gentlemen down the way who wanted to know if there was room for one more girl in our full-up place. He was nice to me, and extremely friendly towards my roommate, who walks eyes-to-the-ground whenever they cross paths.
So far, my car remains happy, I haven't had to buy mace, and there have been no awkward meetings at the laundary mat. All is well in my happenin' hood, and I'll definately be sorry to leave, mainly because I know there's lots I haven't seen yet. I still have at least 20 families to meet! Heck, I've barely seen the managers, and last week, my sister got a flood in her apartment: how am I supposed to top that in 20 days? And, more importantly, I haven't reached the point of becoming the annoying neighbor. Guess I better rev up that Rockband and start pounding! I have a story to inspire.
Alas, El Cajon, I have hardly gotten the chance to know you.
It was only a couple months ago that I showed up, with a trunk full of luggage, to make this character-clad environment my home, and now it seems I will be out in the world once more, seeing as our lease is up a month sooner than planned.
But it has been a fun ride! The sounds of sirens in the distance, the arguing downstairs, the mad scramble for decent parking...this is what home is made of. I remember leaning up against my bed when I moved into our palace (also known as our lovely apartment), chatting with my roommate about...neccesities.
She was fiddling with something when she finally caught my eye. "So Jess, do you have...I dunno...I car club?"
I sat up a little straighter. "Uh, no, but I was thinking of getting one." A pause. "Should I?"
Light laughter. "Yes."
One of other roommates as had her car joyrided--twice--but thankfully, that little club stopped her car from wandering off in the middle of the night! Somehow though, various belongings, such as CDs, occaisionally leave the safety of the vehicle...
So I got me a Master Club, or whatever the heck that thing is called, and I swear, when I take in my hands to lock it down, I'm afraid someone will think it's a machine gun and mow me down. Okay, a little paranoid.
My favorite parking spot, however, happens to have smatterings of broken glass scattered around it. I don't take that as particularly good sign. Thankfully, the whole parking situation gives me a great excuse to stay in for the night. Nothing sounds more sure than, "No, I can't go with you: I finally got close to the complex and I'm not surrendering that spot!" Solid defense.
But really, cars are just big hunks of metal on wheels! The people really make the neighborhood...into what, I'm not sure, because truthfully, I've only spoken to a handfull of them. I do know the ones I met seem very nice. Extremely. Rather friendly...
My roommate shuffled in just as I was plopping down in the living room to take a break from unpacking. "Hey, do you want some of this? It's bear claw, I think."
Unpacking=hunger, so I dug in. "Cool, thanks! Whose is it?"
And she laughed. "It's from one of our neighbors. She used to stop me and my cousin all the time and just give us food! We try to say no, but..." And I ended up facing her myself.
She is a sweet, elderly lady, and I felt more than guilty for taking her food. Of course, she seemed to grow momentarily deaf whenever I'd politely decline, so I guess it worked out. I got invited up for some jell-o salad (made of vegetables, by the way), but was told it had to set, but "not to worry, because it would be over before the evening!"
Sure enough, the next day I walk in, and one of my roommates shows me the salad, as green and...fresh...as ever, asking if I met with our generous neighbor yet.
The only other person I've spoken at any length two was a kind gentlemen down the way who wanted to know if there was room for one more girl in our full-up place. He was nice to me, and extremely friendly towards my roommate, who walks eyes-to-the-ground whenever they cross paths.
So far, my car remains happy, I haven't had to buy mace, and there have been no awkward meetings at the laundary mat. All is well in my happenin' hood, and I'll definately be sorry to leave, mainly because I know there's lots I haven't seen yet. I still have at least 20 families to meet! Heck, I've barely seen the managers, and last week, my sister got a flood in her apartment: how am I supposed to top that in 20 days? And, more importantly, I haven't reached the point of becoming the annoying neighbor. Guess I better rev up that Rockband and start pounding! I have a story to inspire.