Apr. 18th, 2005

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Yesterday our landlord sent some prospective tenants around to see the place without warning us, so I had to show them around a fairly dirty apartment. Not underwear on the floor dirty, but not the spic 'n' span masterpiece I had envisioned. I don't think it made a difference. These girls were--how should I put this?--very much of my high school. My second high school. Beverly Hills High.*

Not to stereotype, but...oy. I lost brain cells just talking to them. At least three of them were wearing [livejournal.com profile] psychopepsquad's favorite mini skirt and Uggs combo, and they didn't ask any of the questions that I would ask if I were checking out a prospective living space but just kept going from room to room remarking, "It's so SMALL!" Over and over, "It's so SMALL!" I felt like shouting, "Hel-lo! Right here!" What were they expecting? A palace? This may be pride of ownership speaking, but I think it's a damn nice place for college.

My favorite thing, though, was their reactions to some of the...geekier decorations I have up. Upon seeing my Spike stand-up one inquired, "Is that Orlando Bloom?" And stumbling across my Wolverine poster (Hugh Jackman Wolverine, BTW): "Is that Harry Potter?"

::headdesk::

So it looks like this place may go from geek paradise to Beverly Hills 94703. Remind me that I'm not supposed to care.

*For those who don't know, after 11 years in Vermont, my family moved back to its native Los Angeles and my brother and I were snuck illegally into BHUHS. Thus I spent the last two years of high school feeling as out of place as I did for the first two--only in the opposite direction.

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