Tuesday, August 6, 2013

Numbah 4. The pit hole from hell pit from hole hell.

Year: 2002-2003
Status: Preggerz, nesting, WAY too hot, first wedding anniversary cake topper devoured in less than a week, while still frozen, because I meant BUSINESS.

Occupation: Fuck that shit.  I'm putting my feet up, nesting, and eating Starbuck's Coffee Cake.  Because.  I'm the boss, and that's the way it's gonna be.
Age: 26-27
Parent of one Lily Barakelstein, by the time we left.

So, I really, very badly... like... so.... badly; incredibly, desperately; wanted to remove myself from the Little Boxes, and the fucking funk of hell that was the suburb of Beaverton.  I fucking hated it out there with the white hot intensity of twelve thousand suns.  I really, truly, did.

I mean.  Hate.  Liquid, molten hate, that I reserved just for that place.  It was a block of pain, that I eventually churned into something that resembled the earth's core.


What's more?  I hated the drive from the Ninth Circle Of Hell, to where I was looking, because my best friend lived in the cool part of town, and I wanted to join her.

So, I searched Inner Southeast Portland, for about a month, until I stumbled upon a place that wasn't already rented.  I remember feeling such relief about this phone call.  She actually called me back!!!  I didn't have to call her, only to find out, someone else got the place! 


So, the next day, we went to take a look at it.  It wasn't really that great on the outside, but the inside had a ton of character, being a barely post-war duplex.  Yeah... a duplex, but it was the part of town I wanted, and it had all of the amenities that I required, including a basement that we could wire for Mr. Hed to have a man cave... and laundry hook ups!  It was also walking distance to Division, Hawthorne, and Woodstock.  So... I'd put up with the fact that it was sort of run down, for all of that.  It was fine, really.

Or, so I thought. 

Turns out, the owners of that place were real slum lords.  Things would break, they would promise to fix them, but they would not.  It didn't have a dishwasher, and I thought I could deal.  Turns out... when you have a baby?  Hand washing, when you have never had to hand wash your dishes, in your life?  Well, it's a bitch.  Especially with almost no counter space. 

I remember one time, one of my cats got spooked, and peeled out on the kitchen counter, sending a full draining rack onto the floor, and everything broke.  I cried.  (In hindsight,) It was really kind of a small annoyance, but well?  It was annoying.

Also, the garage approach?  Well, that didn't work at all for our car.  It was the type that dipped way beneath the sidewalk.  I parked in there exactly once, because I was nervous about tearing the undercarriage off of our car.  So, we parked on the street.  It also meant we had to keep the drain in front of the garage door clear, or it could flood the basement.  Duly noted.  We were good about it, and that never happened, thankfully.

And that summer?  I had to spend it at the movies, the library, at restaurants that didn't mind if I lingered, etc.  Why?  Because all of the windows were south facing, didn't open, and there was no air conditioning.  It was a hot box of death, that place.

And the fact that they would not fix things, nor let us fix things?  Well, it just plain sucked. 

So... we left this place because it sucked.

But, in the time we were there, I convinced Mr. Hed that we should maybe really consider investing in a place.  So... this was our last rental!  Hooray!  I am only adding a few pix of this place, because I live only 6 blocks from it now, and I'm planning on something nice for my little grand finale. 

There it is.  In all its glory.  They replaced the front window.  The one that was there when we lived there was original to the structure.  It was kind of cool looking, but also needed to be replaced.  I am a bit sad that they chose this style of window, but, well, the entire place is just sad.

This has always cracked me up.
This store was still in business when we lived there.  I don't know what's going on with it now.  I think maybe someone lives there.

This fucking bell was the bane of my existence.  Drunk Reed kids love to ring this thing at 3 AM.  When you have a new baby?  It's a lot less funny to you.

I have long lusted after this house.  It was across the street, and down a little ways.

The street I used to live on.

Oh look!  It's the Community Music Center!

Oh, hai there!  I can practically wave to my old place... from my current place.  I had no idea, at the time, that this house even existed though.  It was apparently very overgrown, and could not be seen from the street, the way it can be seen, today.  OK... there was another place between these two though, so... more on this one, in a couple of days.


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