Never Own a Cat

All of the students who went through Central Michigan University’s journalism school had to take photography. During my required semester of it we had a former alumni now working in the biz come speak to us. I forget his name but do remember three pieces of advice he gave us. His words of wisdom, meant to fall on the ears of undergrads about to try and make it at the journalism game were:
- Luck is when preparation meets opportunity.
- Knees do bend. (In reference to getting interesting angles for photos.)
- Never own a cat.

His reasoning for the cat comment was that when you’re young and starting out, you don’t want a cat holding you back. At the time, I wrote off the cat advice, but held on to the others. As of Saturday, the cat advice set in.

I have been searching for an apartment for over a month now. Not wanting to settle for the same type of place I currently have or worse, I admit I have been a little selective. So when the end of this week hit and I still hadn’t seen anything I considered suitable, I got VERY nervous. I had seen apartments out of my price range that were very nice and apartments within my price range that were not nice. Forgive me, but I had a hard time picturing my orange couch set against red wall appearing to be covered in splattered blood. I know, I know. I’m picky. So when a realtor I worked with Thursday called me Saturday morning to say he’d found the perfect place, I was incredibly skeptical. Regardless, I met Jonathon at 10 a.m.

And what Jonathon showed me was a spacious one bedroom on a quiet tree-lined street with a back porch. I was almost immediately sold. After seeing so many places that did not work, I could tell this one would. There was one catch though. Jonathon forgot to check the status of pets. A quick call to The Apartment People confirmed my fears. No pets allowed. “But he’s only one cat. And he’s de-clawed,” I said in protest.

Never own a cat.

Now Jonathon may or may not have said this. I will never confirm either one. But allegedly some people who own cats sometimes don’t let their landlords know they do. They allegedly move into new buildings, bring their cats and once a landlord may or may not find out, the tenant usually won’t get kicked out for having said alleged cat. I also heard from some sources that neither the landlord nor the maintenance man lives in the building. So I may or may not be saying that I may or may not sneak Oscar into the building under a blanket in the dead of night once I move in.

Aside from that, I will confirm that I did get the apartment. The Apartment People called me today to inform me that I got the place. Now all I have to do is meet with the landlord and sign the papers. I will be moving in August 1 and I may or may not have a cat. If I do though, he’s going to have to learn to be realllllllly quiet.

Just Chillin'

I have faced the elements thus far in my apartment search. On Saturday, it was blazing heat. Tuesday, I trudged through a torrential downpour only to miss an appointment with a realtor. With round three, which is to take place Thursday, I won’t be surprised if I’m met with hale or gale force winds. The weather may have something to do with the fact that I haven’t found a place yet. It’s that or that I’m too picky.

But in the meantime, Oscar and I are making do with what we have. It’s been pretty hot the past few days, so unfortunately, the Sayre/de la Hoya household has fallen on some hard times. Luckily, I can get away from the heat by heading down the street to Borders, Starbucks or Bed, Bath and Beyond – anywhere with air-conditioning really. I’m not too picky. My strategy is basically to go where I feel I can stay the longest without the staff starting to monitor my activity.

However, Mr. de la Hoya isn’t so lucky. My poor Oscar isn’t welcome at such places, so when I do return home to the stifling heat of my studio, I immediately feel guilty. He still greets me but lately it’s with a sort of a pissed off, where-the-hell-have-you-been meow. I have found one way to relieve both my guilt and Oscar’s heatstroke though….


Yes, that’s my cat in my freezer. And after I did it the first time, I learned he likes it. So I’ll continue putting my cat in the freezer (never with the door shut!) until one of two things happen: it cools down in the Chi or we get new apartment with air. Lord knows I’m trying to find one.

The Search Is On

Amenities not in my current apartment:
- Airconditioning
- Cable
- Windows that fully close
- Dishwasher
- Washer and dryer
- Internet

What I have in their place:
- A fan
- Tin foil which allows me to get basic channels
- Blankets (to stuff in my windows during the winter months)
- Liquid soap, a scrub brush and my hands
- Two of the three washers and dryers in the scary basement of my building (the other ones do not work)
- A stolen wireless signal (which I haven't connected to in three months)

It is my hope that with a new aprtment I will be able to get a little more than I currently have. However, I'm finding that I can't get as much bang for my buck as originally thought. I am apartment hunting today in 90 degree heat. I hope to find something suitable, however I know no matter what happens I will be returning to my unairconditioned home.

Word Wizard

My bus ride home from work takes anywhere from 30 minutes to a full hour. Being that I’m never really certain how long I’ll be cooped up in the confines of a crowded CTA bus with complete strangers, I always have some activities. I generally have my iPod, a book, a journal and if I’m lucky enough to have gotten a new issue of Glamour or Chicago magazine, I bring those too. If I can, I’ll bring work, but usually my projects require a computer and keyboard not paper and pen.

My other saving grace is the Red Eye. It’s a free daily publication. It contains news (local, national and international), sports and entertainment, as well as daily and weekly listings of things going on in the Chicagoland area. While this is all well and good, I usually take it for the crossword puzzle. I’m a word girl and find that usually I’m done with it by the time I get home. Well not done in the sense that I finished it, but done in the sense that I can’t figure out any more of the clues.

However on Tuesday, I finished it in its entirety! This is only the second time I’ve ever finished a crossword puzzle. It felt good, pretty darn good. And while I didn’t know all the clues, I knew enough to finish it. The ones I didn’t know, I now do. And they are that:
* Fats Domino sang “Blueberry Hill.”
* An FAF is a Brit. Flyboy.
* An eft is a young newt.
* Epees are fencing tools.