absinthe

The house I'm staying at with my friend and her boyfriend is the house of my dreams. They're housesitting for a professor at our college and his wife. The house is all windows and odd-angled corners and painted a tranquil blue, It's got a front and backyard without a fence enclosing it, with flowers and lawn and shady trees and a hammock, the big good kind that doesn't smother you when you lay in it. It has raspberry bushes in rows and blackberries and grapes. Not to mention the inside is all thick dark wooden baseboards like the 1920's, hardwood floors with persian rugs, staircases that go everywhere and shiny cut glass windows. The kitchen is clean and bright with organic food in it. The whole place radiates good vibes.*
Tomorrow I'm meeting Scylla's friend to see if I can move in to her place. It has a door that reads "love letters only" above the mail slot. I'm very hopeful (read: anxious and desperate) about this place because I don't want to intrude on the summer lovenest that my friends have built in this house and I am trying my best to stay out of their way and be as unintrusive as possible. Still if I had it my way i'd live in a house like this forever. I just wish I could give this place to the person I wished to have built a love nest with.

*sigh*

I've divided this entry into good vibes
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and bad vibes.

*Where I am now is in stark contrast to the fightclub esque (as in, creepy and falling apart) house where I found myself living only two days ago. But instead of Brad Pitt and Edward Norton there was a creepster jockster guy who lived in the dungeony serial-killer basement below us and his many loud, lewd friends who came over and then went out to the "nudie bars." I guess I shouldn't be so intolerant of others but I can't ignore the bad feeling I got from living there. I couldn't have ever lived there without Boy as my shield from all that.