Party Dirt

I've decided to move.
It's probably less dramatic than I would like it to be; one of my friends was all, "Why is that so hard? You only have 9 square feet to pack up."
And the dog.

I've lived up in my crib for almost five years. Obviously, a change in perspective would be a good thing. Not only is there the fact of needing more space, but more enticing to me is the idea of perspective.

I want to see a different view out my windows, see all my art hanging in different places on different walls, and cook in an actual kitchen.

one of the complaints I have with my old place is that the dirt is from the 1940s and just doesn't clean up very well. The neighborhood I want to move to has dirt from the 1920s, which is old but I figure that 1920s dirt is probably more fun and easy going than dirt from the 40s. It's flapper dirt as opposed to World War 2 dirt.

The new old dirt will want to have a party every night and dress in sexy, beaded dresses. It will idolize Dorothy Parker and drink martinis.

The old dirt, the current dirt is SO BORING. All it wants to do is ration and think about it's contribution to the war effort.
Get a life, old dirt.
It's all, "Bomb shelter! This could be a bomb shelter!"
Yeah dude. If that one window closed all the way, which is never had, this place could TOTALLY be a bomb shelter.

So I'm going to move to a place with older, funner dirt.
Also, with a more realistic kitchen.

I mentioned this to a girl at work and she goes, "Why do you want to live downtown?"
Without saying how I feel about her, this made me irate. While I am surprisingly conservative, I am not into new housing when there is wonderful old housing available.
Why do I want to live downtown?

Character, to start with. Those places have flavor and dirt that wants to open a speakeasy in the courtyard. A new construction place just wants to hum in automated, creepy voice-recognition way. I hate voice recognition. I want to talk to a person.

And that's another thing about downtown. People are always out and about in downtown. Everyone down there rides their bikes over to each other's houses and hangs out for long, Tucson afternoons of watching movies or trying to do art but really just creating junk out of other junk, for the sake of being creative.
Every time I am at a downtown friend's place, another friend seems to pop over on her bike.

This seems like so much fun, so much more fun that living in a house where I walk through a model on the first street in the subdivision and choose whether I want to upgrade to Fixture Package 2 and whether I want Color 1,2, or 4. I can't have 3 because that's what the neighbor to the East has.

Downtown, there are places that are pink, powder blue, brick, painted brick, orange, purple, electric blue, and plain old white. After miles of subdivision reddish brown variants, and after the last few years admiring the design triptychs offered by the developer, I am ready to see a white building and move into it.

I'm really excited about this.
And I have a plan.
My plan is to make a list of everything that I want in a place and then go out and actually find the place that has everything I want.

This makes coming home to my hovel increasingly difficult and makes me feel like it's temporary.. part of that feeling is good and valid but the other part leads me to want to do things like not pick up the crumpled dog food sack on the floor where it landed when I last refilled the giant Tupperware where dog food is saved.

I am very excited about this.
I've got financial developments for the not-to-distant future and they are going to mean that a whole new door, literally, is going to open for me.


arizonasarah at 10:21 a.m.

previous | next