Although the 90210 zip code topped my list, shockingly, there was nothing in my price range. With Beverly Hills out of the picture and my teenage dreams of living next door to the Walshes crushed, I found myself overcome with indifference. I began a massive search, looking at apartments everywhere (please note that when I say everywhere I really mean everywhere on the west side of Los Angeles – I was able to successfully rule out many areas for various reasons including Downtown, Hollywood, South Central and even Compton).
My criteria was fairly simple:
- 1 Bedroom: for the first (yes, first) time in my life I will live alone. A part of me had hoped to move in with my girlfriend, but due to various complexities and absurdities that I will save for another post, I have successfully avoided the innate lesbian desire to “U-Haul.”
- Off-Street Parking: Parking in LA is a clusterfuck (yes, that is a technical term) and I am easily annoyed. It is best for me, and for all of humanity that I have my own designated spot.
- Dishwasher and in-apartment Washer/Dryer: I am a spoiled girl from the suburbs and have never gone without these amenities.
- Central Air Conditioning: As a girl who spent much of her life in Arizona, it seems downright asinine to live without air conditioning.
Like any good MBA, I put together a complex spreadsheet of lists and formulas that would help direct and track my search. Like any good irrational person, after a couple of weeks of searching I successfully signed a lease on a place that was not listed on my spreadsheet and met virtually none of my criteria. I do in fact live in a one bedroom but it lacks a dishwasher, washer/dryer and central air conditioning. I did land an off-street parking space recently but only after parking on the street for six straight weeks and enduring two parking tickets in the process. To be fair, I do have air conditioning but it is only in the bedroom, where I have become a hermit for the last several days as summer finally hit Los Angeles. Despite it’s shortcomings, the apartment is adorable and right in the middle of a neighborhood I affectionately refer to as Homotopia. The lesson I have learned is that it doesn’t really matter what amenities you do or do not have as long as you are surrounded by a few good gays.