Your leaking thatched hut during the restoration of a pre-Enlightenment state.

 

Hello, my name is Judas Gutenberg and this is my blaag (pronounced as you would the vomit noise "hyroop-bleuach").



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   condo shopping
Monday, August 9 1999
I have these days every couple of months or so, the sort where I'm convinced my relationship with Kim is completely at an end. It always seems like a silly obsession afterwards, once we've talked and reached an understanding about the issues between us. But time passes, and then it happens again: she discovers a whole new approach to why she might want to leave me. So I spend another day thinking this is it and feeling sad, realizing anew that there's really no one else I can imagine being with.
So this breakup day came and went and we managed to smooth things out in a way that not only brought us back together, but provided both of us with an enormous sense of relief as well.
In other things, Kim's spasmodically controlling long-distance mother has yet again been calling obsessively. The newest bug in her bonnet is the imminent rise in interest rates. She thinks Kim should be buying a home while she still has a chance. So not only does she call every day, but she tracked down a San Diego real estate agent and gave that meddlesome woman Kim's phone number. Kim sees it all as yet another of her mother's needy pleas for contact with her daughter, like all the other stunts before: the house fire, allegedly sick or mistreated pets, hypochondriac fears of illness and death, and squabbles or other sorts of conflicts, both real and imagined, with Kim's grandmother, aunts and even father. But Kim knows a good thing when she sees it, and building equity with a house is always better than shoveling money away to a landlord. So today she went with the real estate lady checking out places in Ocean Beach. The place that left her most excited was a grey condo up the hill a few blocks away. After Kim and I were through resolving issues from the night before, we walked Sophie over there to check it out.
The condo had grey vinyl siding, which kind of sucked, but inside (the door was unlocked) it was the sort of spacious high-ceilinged modernist place that upper middle class people crave so unquestioningly. There was even a view of the ocean. There's definitely something good to be said about digs of this sort, so I was okay with it. The only thing that had me wondering was the $1900/month mortgage.

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http://asecular.com/blog.php?990809

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