This is probably the last you'll hear of me for a while, because I am flying to London. As I was logging on this morning, I saw that Prince William broke up with Kate Middleton. Now is my chance. I do not see any reason why William wouldn't be attracted to a married, 41-and-a-half-year-old, slightly chubby American woman.
That Kate Middleton was pretty, but she was always parading around in bikinis on yachts, and she never had much of a waist. Why is it that bodies that are supposed to be cute today (Cameron Diaz) are completely lacking in a waist? Rectangular is the new hourglass.
So if I don't fly to London, I might, just might, have found us an apartment. Oh, you guys. It is so pretty.
Every day for the last six months, I have gone on craigslist and typed in "Miracle Mile" in the search bar for apartments. Miracle Mile is a part of LA that is pretty much in the middle. There are museums, La Brea Tar Pits (who doesn't need to live near THAT?), this big famous Farmer's Market/Grove shopping center, and all sorts of little shops and restaurants that I won't be able to spend at all year.
Once I was in that neighborhood at a little diner and sat next to Ashton, Demi and those three kids of hers, whatever their names are. Rumer, Tumor and Bloomer or whatever.
ANYWAY, here is a picture of the living room.
It was built in the 1930s, I think, and it has all the original details, which is very very very very important to me. I do not need those modern amenities. In fact, get them away from me. As soon as I read "granite countertops" in an apartment description, I am like, "NEXT." Fortunately, Marvin Gardens feels the same way.
It has windows that open in, original doors and doorknobs, the tile in the kitchen is the original yellow, and it has little red paintings of kitchen things here and there on the tile (coffee pots, sugar bowls, etc.).
Every single room has a walk-in closet. One of the bedrooms has TWO closets.
The only thing it does not have is a washer and dryer in the unit. It is in the BUILDING, but not the unit. So we'd have to sell our washer and dryer.
Well, anyway, I told the landlord in no uncertain terms how badly I wanted this place. Naturally, so do 11 thousand other people. And he is not so keen on the three cats thing. Anyone want a cat? Caaaaats! Three for a dollar!
But now that I've had a night to think about it, I am like, do I really want to give up the money we've saved so far? Cause you know we have to pay a bunch to move in. And I will be giving up my yard that I am never in cause I am gone 10 hours a day. And this neighborhood is SO QUIET. Now I will be in the middle of the city.
So, I guess I will leave it to the fates. He can say okay, I pick you, and maybe that's a sign we should go. Otherwise, he'll pick some catless person who has no love of animals and ugliness in her soul.
The LA Times just called. It is NINE A.M. ON A SATURDAY. I picked up and before they said anything, I said, "You are really calling me at this hour on a weekend? NO THANKS!" and slammed down the phone. How could Prince William not be drawn to that?