I absolutely *love* my new apartment. I finally got the last load of stuff over here on Saturday, and I never have to return to that old shiatty bad-retro 70's-era wood-paneled unhip hot-ass vortex of suck ever again. And I was so irritated with my old roommate that it was all I could do to not pummel him into a gooey mess on the driveway before I left (it's a long story that I don't feel like retelling here, but only because of my good graces did he escape an ass-beating that he truly had coming his way).
Anyhow, all my stuff is finally here, and almost completely moved in. There is a bunch of junk stacked in the dining room that needs to find a place, but once that's completed, the move is officially over. Of course, we have to move the liquor collection one more time before anything can get accomplished (It didn't fit on top of the fridge, and we need the bookshelf space that it's currently occupying, too).
But having been here for two weeks, I've noticed a few things that are a little off-kilter. First of all, my room is truly too small for a queen-sized bed, especially if I want to put a dresser, nightstand, bookshelf, and computer desk in here. So I think I'm in the market for a full-sized bed, instead. I had one over at the second place I lived in (the house *after* the stripper house), and it worked fine, and two people could sleep in it just fine--it belonged to that chick Lara I was seeing, and since we got along well at the time, it didn't seem too small. Besides, since it's not a queen or king bed, any overnight guests I might be entertaining would probably not want to stay the entire night, if you know what I mean...
A good salesman would call that a 'feature'.
Anyhow, besides the bedroom being a bit small, I've realized that my toilet runs forever once it's flushed. Maybe an adjustment can be made, but it hasn't gotten to the point where it irritates me yet. One thing that I don't like is the fact that my shower takes *forever* to warm up once I turn it on. I can crank it all the way over to full-on hot, and it's still three or four minutes before I get any steam. But once it finally decides to get hot, look out--it'll melt the grout right out of the tile. So then I have to turn it all the way back down and find a balance before I get cooked like a pot full of pasta. But the water pressure is fine and the shower head is made for tall people.
The washing machine, which is plumbed right next to my shower, but located just on the other side of the wall, gets hot instantly when it's set to do so. I haven't figured out that mystery just yet, but I'm working on it. And washing a load of towels the other day revealed that there is actually one leg on the washing machine that is shorter than the other three. I haven't adjusted it yet, but it's on the agenda this week.
Oh, and I've figured out that the calibration on the air conditioner is about twelve degrees off. If it's set at 84 degrees, it's actually about 72 degrees in the house. That's why we freeze our asses off at eighty. Eighty means sixty-eight. And coming in from 106, that's just a shock to the system. But man, I love having the ability to chill this place down like a meat locker.
It's like having Super-Hero powers, but they only work if I use them for good, not evil...
When we first moved in, everything else worked, but Rob said that the drain in his tub was messed up, so we had the maintenance guys come take a look. They replaced the stopper and cleaned out the pipes and all is well again. And we had them tighten up the bolts on the garbage disposal so it no longer rattles the entire counter when it comes on.
Now that we have a nice kitchen, I think we're going to discover that our fridge is too small. Both of us like to cook, and leftovers are becoming an issue along with all of the groceries that both of us stuff in there. Somehow we'll manage. But after I get some sleep this morning, I'm making another batch of biscuits and gravy. I made some a few days ago, but made the tragic mistake of using store-brand biscuits instead of Pilsbury Grands. They were awful, and detracted from my gravy masterpiece. So on the way home from work this morning, I stopped at Smith's and got a load of groceries, which included proper biscuits.
As far as the kitchen goes, we discovered that the burners on the gas stove are mislabeled on the knobs, but that's no big deal. Front is back, back is front, we figured it out right away by just putting the eggs on whichever burner had a blue flame.
Otherwise, this new apartment is perfect. It's clean, quiet, and serene. I've not seen a single child anywhere in this complex, no seen any dog poop. I have only heard the people that live upstairs one time, and that was a weekend and they were running the vacuum cleaner. Other than that, I haven't heard a peep.
My only gripe is my own fault. Living in a gated community is great, except that when I bought my truck last summer, I should've paid extra and got the model with the electric windows. Hand cranking the window each time I return home is slowly becoming a pain in the ass.
But the Ghetto Sled had electric windows. Sometimes. However, if I were still driving that hunk-0-crap, they probably would've never let me move in here. This is a nice neighborhood. No white trash allowed.