- September 2012 to March 2013: The Two Bed Auckland Apartment in a Very Nice City Fringe Suburb with Excellent Brunch Next Door. Where sadly, last night at 3am, there was a fire alarm in the middle of a downpour (NOT our fault this time, I hasten to add – but I did say to P “I wonder who left the prawns on the stove?”) I managed to find time to put a bra on (?!) and to pick up an umbrella (saving the precious items in the event of a fire!) but also managed to open the umbrella into my eye in front of 90-odd other residents, huddling on the street. When the alarm was finally declared false by the lovely fire service folks, I stumbled damply back to bed with a hand clutched piratically across my eye. I’ve been EXTREMELY squinty today.
We’re working on the next instalment at present. Wow, looking to buy a property is a wonderfully awful experience. If my life was a movie (and trust me, I think about my life being a movie/sitcom/reality show ALL THE TIME) it would have a horrendous tagline like:
‘Two people. One weekend. Eight open homes. Welcome to the Suburbs.’
There were god-knows how many pairs of jandals lined up at the door of every home we visited and just about every goddamn pair were brown/black/white havaianas - we were all the same white-middle-class-upwardly-mobile-professional-types. I didn’t have the grace to be ashamed; I just felt hot knives of resentment stabbing my innards. Yup, I was classy enough to just want to beat all these people in the purchase-race and declare the good real estate MINE ALL MINE for the choosing. Don’t worry, the hot knives of resentment have receded and have been replaced by the icy cold forks of shame and guilt. Just be a better person, A. Less competitive, hey?
I’ve become OBSESSED with the hunt. It has taken over my brain, my conversation, my LIFE. I expect it will also take over my blog. Although, to be fair, I did find time to go to the basketball and get ridiculously fanged on beers this weekend so, you know, balance or whatever. Go Breakers.