Weeeell hello there, my devoted readers. I apologize for my extended absence... oh crap, who am I kidding? Who noticed I wasn't blogging, raise your hands? That's what I thought.
Well, the time has at long last come when I have begun thinking beyond my parents' doorstep and am in my grand old age attempting to claw my way out of the chokehold of my mother's apron strings.
Yes. You heard right, dear folks. I am searching for my own apartment. A glamorous, sleek lair where I shall entertain friends long into the night, laughing pretentiously at the latest piece by some obscure artist, with soft french techno playing in the background. A mysterious boudoir where only a few fortunate are allowed to enter, and the chosen ones get to spend evenings with me drinking delicious hot chocolate in front of a roaring fireplace, discussing religion and literature and solving all of life's problems. And laughing pretentiously, of course.
Or, more accurately, a plague infested shithole in someone's basement. I'm not fussy. Me being me, I have my heart totally set on an apartment that I have never even seen. I have been fortunate enough however to see the outside of the building. It has an old fashioned charm to it, an aged feel. It is the kind of place where you would stand with your eyes closed, breathe in deeply and take in the aroma of the past. You can almost see Jack The Ripper cutting up a prostitute on the steps right before your very own eyes, it fits so perfectly. If you just use your imagination, you can practically feel the rats of old carrying the plague scurrying around your feet as the cries of children who have just been orphaned echo in the background.
Does this bother me? No. All I want to know is whether it's got nice floors and a nice kitchen. The guy said "parket and limestone" floors. I got very excited and started painting a picture in my head. Didn't I see something in Elle Decor, a castle somewhere that had halogen lighting, limestone and parket floors and big french windows? I'm sure it's just like that. All the gorgeous, expensive stuff I plan to buy from the Ikea catalogue I found yesterday is going to look so nice in there as well. Along with my brand new computer I want to buy, and the DVD burner on it which will somehow magically transform my life because I have had visions of myself having tons of people I don't even know being in my castle... I mean basement apartment... looking at my awesome DVD collection. Word spreads like wildfire, and now eeeeverybody want's to hang out at Mia's castle. I mean Mia's basement apartment.
Realism is my specialty.
So if you don't want to see my lofty dreams shattered like a wineglass at a jewish wedding, I suggest you start thinking about where you are spending excess money and try saving it up for me instead. No pressure. Just a piece of friendly advice. Do you really need to use that much toilet paper? I mean, really? When there's a needy child out there with nothing to hold on to but modest dreams and sensible expectations, start walking and save on gas money. Make a difference. Change the world.
Jesus loves you.