- 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hot knives of resentment have receded and have been replaced by the icy cold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.
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