Finding a place to live has been high on my priority list.  From the get-go, I’ve been checking craigslist, other online rental listings, and getting advice from locals.  The Sunset District had particular appeal to me, because of its quieter, neighborhood-like feel, its proximity and access to downtown, its inclusion of the church building, and some not-so-distant family history connections. There were a number of places available in the area, so I began exploring. 

I was very hopeful about one that was very reasonably priced, was in a good area, and had a very flattering description online.  But to my dismay, when I arrived to get a tour, it did not live up to what I had hoped for.  The exterior of the shabby row house seemed to have been painted a sickly purple in the 1970’s, and now the purple had turned into a dismal grey, tainted mauve.  The studio apartment was on the ground level, and had a nasty tile floor with decaying grout.  The bathroom had a different variation of tile on the floor and the walls, and was even more unappealing.  There was a shared yard in the back filled with all kinds of junk, ranging from a rusty broken trampoline to car parts, to abandoned garden tools.  Needless to say, I could think of only one thing, and that was how much I wanted to get out of there.

That got me thinking about what I want in an apartment.  And it turns out, I don’t want to live in a dump; and I feel fairly strongly about that.  I don’t know how long I’ll be living here, and I don’t even know many days of the month I’ll spend at my own place, given that I’ll likely be traveling a good deal for work.  But one thing I do know is that when it comes time to go to the place I’m calling “home,” I don’t want it to be a total hole. 

After some more searching, I came across a place that was listed at the upper end of my price range, but still seemed to have some attractive features.  I called the landlord and arranged a visit.  This place was, in contrast, very nice.  It wasn’t all that much bigger, but the owner had clearly put much more effort in terms of upkeep.  The appliances were newer, the lighting design was appealing, the floor was an elegant stained concrete, the bathroom was clean and sleek, and the yard was well kept and inviting.  I looked around, liking what I was seeing, and went on my way.

After the visit, I kept on feeling that I would never forgive myself if I let the opportunity to live there slip away, especially if I ended up living in a place like the aforementioned dump.  I couldn’t shake the feeling, and accompanying sense of urgency (knowing that others were also likely interested,) so that night, I called the landlord back up, and told him I wanted it.

He was glad to hear it, and told me about the credit check, and the application forms involved in the process.  I got the required forms filled them out, authorized a credit check, and faxed them all back. 

The credit report came back fine, and I was told that I could meet the landlord and his family, and get the keys to the apartment in exchange for a cashier’s check which was to include a hefty deposit and pro-rated rent for the month. 

I complied with the terms, and before I knew it, I was in possession of my very own set of keys to my new apartment.  That brings us to today, when I actually got to move in.  David Peterson let me borrow some chairs, a card table, and some kitchen items for the time being, and helped me unload my stuff at my new place, which isn’t all that far from his own place, where I had been staying. 

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I got my stuff unloaded and starting filling the shelves, cupboards, and closets, although I anticipate I’ll need to do a good deal of organizing in the near future.  The place still seems a bit bare, although hopefully things will start to flesh out after a trip or two to IKEA, where I’ll get some shelves, a desk, and maybe some other stuff.

Until then, I’m enjoying having my own place, and look forward to turning this into the place I’ll call home.