Basically: THIS

CL > boston > housing > kill me

My girlfriend and I have been searching for a new apartment for the past few months, primarily on Craigslist. Here are some random thoughts and points from this experience. 

• Me: "I love the pictures of the outside of the unit, can't wait to see the ones of the insi.....oh there aren't any?! Silly me! Who do I make the check out to??"

• Not sure where you went to math school but a room barely big enough for a twin-sized bed + a pantry does not = a 2 bedroom apartment. It's science...or math... You tell me, you went to math school. 

• "Laundromat close by" means you have wasted yet another 5 seconds of my life. 

• "No pets. No smoking. No use of the backyard. No grilling. No talking above a whisper after 7:45 pm (strictly enforced). No unapproved flatulence. No friends. No family. No fun of any kind."

• "Charming" is code for "comically tiny" or "the last person that lived here was crazy and bedazzled the walls" or both. 

• "We'll need your social security #, pay stubs, bank account #'s, reasons why your exes left you, your shoe size when you were 8 and a half, and 12 months of rent upfront + full broker's fee. We're also thinking of a number between 1 and 10. Serious inquiries only."

• Me: "I work M-F 9-5 and can come by to view the place anytime after 6pm". Them: "Fantastic, does Tuesday at 1:47pm work for you?"

• The listing for your terrible apartment doesn't get any better simply because you post it 700 times a day. Somebody lied to you. Stop it.

• Realtors that post "selfies" and substitute the letter "o" with zeros when they spell their name are best avoided. 

• If I have to Google the town of the apartment listing you should probably stop posting it in the "Boston-area" section. I'm looking in your direction Maynard, MA. And because I had to Google it, I now know that the direction of Maynard is west of Boston...so yeah...

• When the listing has an "image" but the "image" is merely your "contact info" it makes me want to "strangle" a "kitten" and I actually "like" cats. Basically: "Fuck you".

4-19-13 11:00pm

­­

 Trinity Church in Copley Square, Boston

4-18-13

 I don’t know if I will ever again feel comfortable as I walk down Boylston St. This is not because I am afraid of being innocently attacked, but because there are just some things that cannot be unseen, unheard, unfelt. I may not have been there as the mayhem unfolded, but I, we, immersed ourselves into every detail, no matter how difficult it was to process, and we took it all too personally. We have all been on that street.  We all knew somebody that was potentially in danger on what turned out to be one of the first sun-kissed days of the year. We all wished there was something more we could do to help once we witnessed the aftermath. I can’t imagine a scenario in which I again run out into the middle of that street when traffic is stopped and pretend to cross the finish line as if I’ve accomplished something great, like so many men and women have, without feeling disrespectful. Will I ever be able to walk down that side without flashing back to the carnage that erupted on what was supposed to be a great day; “our” day? I don’t know.

I don’t know how the families of those injured and lost have made it through this week. This week… I wonder if the news over the past 24 hours has brought any solace or comfort to their ailing hearts; if the promise of justice that they so desperately deserve will help them sleep any better tonight. We’ve all put ourselves into their shoes and have tried to imagine what we would do if it was us that had to face down such horrible circumstances. We think about it for a moment or two, and then we are glad that it wasn’t us. This is not because we are selfish or insensitive, but because we are terrified at the idea of the proposed juxtaposition. We battle with our own thoughts while keeping those actually affected simultaneously encompassed within them.  Are there any words that can be said to these incomparably strong people that could ever make it better? I don’t know.

I don’t know how the first responders (those on the scene and those who came to aid) didn’t think twice about rushing into a danger that they never had a full comprehension of. They knowingly risked their own lives to help those wounded amidst an unnerving chaos where nothing made sense any longer. I don’t blame those that fled out of fear; self-preservation as an instinct has enabled our species to continue. It does, however, further exemplify the courage and humanity shown by those who stayed as they laid the groundwork for the healing – a message sent that WE WILL NOT BE TERRORIZED. Can our debt to those that stayed and endured such horrors in order to help their fellow man ever be repaid? I don’t know.

I don’t know if this coward can ever live up to the amount of torment that he has unleashed on us as a city, a state, a country, and as a people. When John F. Kennedy fell victim to a homegrown terrorist, the perception of what the general public expected of the assassin left them very confused with what they were actually presented with. How could such a “nobody” be behind the death of such a great leader? Surely there was a conspiracy in which more capable, more impressive, more evil men were behind – but history has proven otherwise. In the coming weeks and months I believe we will also be left wondering how somebody so insignificant was able to wreak such havoc over all of us…for so long. This recreant hid behind terror to make himself more imposing for a reason that only he knows – a reason that will ultimately never be acceptable. In due process, will we eventually get the answers that we need to help us past this tragedy? I don’t know.

What I do know is that in its darkest moments, our city arose from the ashes with unparalleled strength and compassion – the kind of Herculean effort that makes you regain your faith in humanity just as you were left wondering if there was anything worth searching for.  As evidenced by this week, you can no longer doubt the human spirit, but rather you should hope to harness and perpetuate the unity that we have felt over these five days and extend it to those who may need it - whether it be now, next month, or ten years down the road.  

The process of bringing this killer of innocents to justice hasn’t been perfect, but it never had to be. In the end it just had to work.

It did. Thank you to all of those that made it possible.

J.W.

FL: 17' Python with 87 Eggs Found

Annnnd I just threw up a little. People of Florida (or anywhere really): Pythons do not make great pets. They get big. You're dumb so you release them into the wild where they have no natural enemies and therefore wreak havoc on the native wildlife. I'm not an ecological warrior or anything, this upsets me mostly because I hate snakes. This snake had 87 eggs. Seriously, fuck snakes.

For those that were wondering

My raisin to bran ratio yesterday morning was fucking outstanding.

Leave me alone

I'm sorry Groupon, but I'm not really in the market for a Brazilian wax "right now".

Know Your Audience

I really wish my email would stop trying to get me to set up a profile on BlackPeopleMeet.com. I don't even know the secret handshake...