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If language were liquid...

There's a strange sound coming from my window, like someone's recording into a microphone. Must be Queens, New York.

So the lady came down in her price and it looks like $125K. Crazy world. I could write a pamphlet for new potential homeowners. It's such a long process, not really grueling but emotionally taxing and everyone who's buying should have a sherpa. Tip 1: have an appraisal, or some hard core research done BEFORE you bid on the place.

I'm listless, part heat, part my job changing, part the pressure on my brain from this arduous home purchasing process waxing and waning, part I don't know what to think about this budding relationship and I'm flying to San Francisco to be with him for a weekend in his apartment, part I'm turning 37, part how do I help my roommate deal with not having a lease and some finance stuff, and insects, part medical stuff I'm dealing with, and part realizing that I live in a first world country, I'm not in the middle of a bombing capital (just now) and the worst that could really happen is a blackout and the food in the fridge spoiling.

It's sometimes hard to remember that I have a roof over my head, food in my belly, clothes on my back and people who love me.

In fact, I got treated to dinner at FoodBar, had a blast at Mr. Black and Element. Even with all that I'd blown off the Tribeca party that I really wanted to attend: 'cause he has an awesome roof access.

So what am I bitching about?

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