houses, apartments, studios, and the ilk

Well, none of the above actually. So here's where I'll be living next semester. It's not exactly as planned - living in a studio apartment by myself and then moving in with my brother when he gets back from London (!) around Christmas - but it'll do, pig. Seems like a really good place - internet, kitchen, bathroom, electricity - you know, the general amenities I've come to rely upon. I'll be living with a cat named Daniel in one of the "Heritage Apartments." He's one-upped my MH spell by going on a mission trip (that he apparently coordinated) to Iraq this summer and doing something surgical (once again, apparently he's gonna' be a doctor or something.) Moreover, he's a community leader at Westminster (whatever that means - I'm not entirely sure I haven't joined a cult) and the son of a pastor in Menlo Park. I haven't actually met Daniel, so this knowledge is all secondhand from the glowing housing lady person who might just have a jr. high sized crush on Monsieur Daniel. Anyway, I just thought I'd share because I've never done this type of housing thing before. In Santa Barbara, I lived in a house that I rented (with some friends) from my home church (Oakland FCC, West Side foolz) small group leader. Then I moved to Petaluma and lived with Meredith's family. Now, finally, I'm dunked in completely unfamiliar waters (ok, not completely. I did grow up right around Berkeley.) But this will be interesting, so pray for me I guess. I'm nervous about change in general - driving to a new place knocks the piss out of me for fear of not finding parking - so a change like this (and being w/o a motorized vehicle, but at least I don't have to worry about parking) is obliterating my nerves. Not to mention (ok, to mention) the labrynthine bureaucracy of the UC system and my homeschool level skills in dealing with any type of social/corporate milieu. (Funny story - and, I promise, quick - when in first grade I went to MH and, naturally, day camp. Not entirely understanding (ok, not understanding at all) what it meant when campers were being divided by grade, I got into the first line I saw. It so happened to be the third/fourth grade line. So when I finally understood what was going on - and why all kids standing around me were a good deal taller - I still remained in that line. This nervousness/timory has kind of sat with me ever since. It's like, to return to my nervous parking/driving habits, taking a spot you know is three blocks away out of fear of not finding one closer, having to turn back around, and then getting stuck in a square of one way streets, missing your movie/concert/date entirely. It's sad, I know.)

And Gator, jealous much: I'll be living about 500 feet from the Pacific Film Archive. $4 a show for Cal students.