Home again, home again...

Lazlo and I have a house! Hurrah! Now we have to figure out how we're going to pay for it. The CRAZY landlady, we'll call her SWAN, wants the first months rent and the deposit (more than the rent) today- in CASH. nonsequential unmarked fives and tens. Okay, not really- but cash. Come on. As Lazlo gets paid twice a month, this is going to be a stretch, but if we deny Wren diaper service for the next week or so, I think we can make it.

The house is pretty cool. It's small and ricketty but it has charm. And a yard. Those, and a washer and dryer, are what I look for in a house, and this place has W/D hookups, and an insane landlady, but you can't win 'em all. We'll no longer be living with the soccer moms and gentry in sleepy Pasadena. The new house has an actual Los Angeles address- Highland Park. And, as the former tenant said, "I like to think Highland Park keeps it real." He also said not to rent the house because the landlady was totally nuts, but hey, what does he know?

By "keeps it real" I have to assume he meant, "has frequent drive by shootings" because that's what the LAPD crime blotter seems to indicate- but we live at least 10 blocks away from that side of Highland Park, and really, the risk will pay off with curb-side access to taco trucks and fruit carts alone.

You're all invited to come over as soon as we're moved in. SWAN suggested that we screen in the deck and make it the baby's room (?), so I guess we'll have an extra bedroom for any visitors to stay in. Plus, you'll have to come over to see the baby- she smiles all the time now. Big, gummy, all out smiles, like she's the happiest baby in the universe. Sometimes I'll desperately try to get her to smile at me for 10 minutes before I give up, and then when I turn around she's smiling ecstatically at her stuffed giraffe. Stupid giraffe.