Your Living Quarters

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1

Describe briefly or in depth your living quarters. A house, apartment, a room, alone, with others, a dorm, your parents, what have you.

I just moved into a room in a five bedroom house in the middle of a suburban town. The location is great…it is an even distance from all surrounding beltlines and/or interstates, and ten minutes from downtown.

The rent is 450 a month, everything included, highspeed internet (finally…goodbye dial-up) and full cable as well.

The situation is like a local hostel. Five strangers share the kitchen and two full bathrooms, as well as the houses other facilities. The house is very big and the backyard is designed like a makeshift zen-garden. The hedgrow follows a path through and between gardens of flowers on each side. There are grassy areas secluded like islands throughout the landscape. There are large trees and much shade.

There is also a huge sunroom on the back deck. The mood is tranquil and serene there.

My room, luckily, is up stairs in the back. I have a window which leads to the roof of the sunroom, which I can climb out onto and chill…bong-hits, guitar, a book, SIATD’s political manifesto, or even eat chilli beans with cheese.

I’ve got hardwood floors, but there are a few squeeks, which have the potential to drive me insane.

The shower spiget has an awesome power. The water pressure alone is enough to wake you up. One doesn’t need the fresh scent of Coast to “help open your eyes.” I recommend ivory anyway. Its cheaper and simpler.

My house mates are interesting. There is a middle aged black dude who is hesitant to talk to anyone and is always listening to the Christian talk show on the radio.

A dude in his early twenties who is fascinated with his motorcycle and his girlfriend, and is rarely here. I suspect he is riding one or the other…or both. I’d take the bike over the girl, but he’s not a cassanova in the first place, so I think he did good, all things considered.

A gigantic woman in her late twenties, who never leaves and lives downstairs. This woman is so large, her “picture fell off the wall,” as I once heard it put, and she is always cooking the most delicious smelling meals. The entire house is permeated with these wonderful aromas, if only to feed her enormous ass, I am thankful that crisco and butter can smell so good at times. She is also an excellent writer, and composed a letter recently to the landlord, requesting changes in the lease agreements which we all supported. It was well written and I was quite suprised.

An older black dude from Africa lives beside me, and is currently stranded up north somewhere. I haven’t met him yet but I hear he’s cool.

And my friend, who introduced me to the landlord.

I am also allowed to jam in the garage. There is no cover charge, if you decide to come.

2

Sounds nice. I just moved a hundred miles to another city for a job. I’m renting a 2 bedroom house on a 1+ acre corner lot. It’s a very quite part of town, and my place seems very isolated despite being near the middle of the city. Hi speed internet of course, with one room set up as my laundry & computer room. I have 2 PCs that I built, but only one is connected to the net right now. Eventually I’ll get a wireless router so I can use my 3rd PC (a laptop) to cruise ILP whilst sprawled out on my couch.

The other bedroom houses my bed and my 2nd AV system. With my 32" Toshiba set, JVC reciever and Monitor Audio Bronze 3’s (mass loaded), this serves as my videogame area, too. Currently I have my Xbox & PSOne connected. The Dreamcast sits unplugged, sort of pouting at me- I promise I’ll hook it up eventually. When I get around to it I’ll get an Xbox 360.

The living room is decent sized and proportioned pretty well from an acoustics standpoint. Having only been there a few days I don’t have my main audio sytem set up yet. Hopefully tommorrow or the day after I’ll get it done. I do have my furniture set up- a nice leather sofa & loveseat (the only nice furniture I’ve every bought; I’m no Martha Stewart :wink: ).

My back patio is about 25’x25’. There are tall wooden privacy fences to the sides and it’s open into a pretty nicely groom acre back yard. No gas grill yet- mine was too beat up to warrant taking with me when I moved. I’ll get a new one.

I lived alone for years, but for the last several I’ve had roomies. It’s strange getting used to living by myself again. I’d becomed accustomed somewhat to the presence of others, and silence is a mostly welcome but occasionally strange presence unto itself.

My fridge has to go. It squeaks & squeals and runs constantly. Eventually it will drive me to a homicidal rampage. If the landlord won’t replace it I’ll buy my own.

The house is just fine for now. If things go well for me here I’ll probably buy a house in 8-10 months or so.

3

I live in a scabby castle of human flesh. There is a society of microbes residing in the rafters, they crawl out twice daily to latch onto my pores and feed. They also eat the nubs of body hair, and in this way I stay silky smooth, although the side effect of their chemical blood is insanity which is fine since I have no responsibilities other than coming up for new ways to say goodbye. Yes, mine is the house in which goodbyes are written and sent in for use by earthlings, who always seem to need new ways. Yes, there are old ways that go in and out of vogue, like “so long” and “take care.” Both of those are mine. I know, not my best work. I also came up with “later,” and even “sianara.” I’m proud of those. There are twenty octillion ways to say goodbye - I won’t list them here. I didn’t write all of them, either. Like “asta la vista, baby,” make no mistake, that wasn’t me, I’d never write something so hackneyed and trite.

There are pustuals on the ceiling fans and you can pop them with a fork as the fan spins and the blood and pus sprays down in a rainbow and feels good on your face like a kiss or sleeping face down on an eviscerated rabbit carcass. I can climb up on the roof and write goodbyes and even eat beans, alone, and I make sure to collect the resulting gas expulsions in a jar labeled “gazzz” and release them onto the coughing plants in the garden, making them gasp in further agony, but they’re really half laughing, they can’t help it. Life is funny to them! That’s why I like them so. Otherwise, if they didn’t laugh, I would have chopped them down long ago and sold them to old Miss Reilly, and she’d make them go all military and slippery with grief and the laughing that was never there would be even more neverer there. There is a large triangle named Smithy who lives in the room downstairs. He is yellow and doesn’t say much. His door is a triangle shape, but it’s inverted, so he has to do a somersault to get in and out, but he moves quite well for a large triangle – I was impressed. There is a Lutheran negro gentleman who watches TV and another who is never here. The floors are made of mirrored wallets named Sally encased in hardened lime jelly; someone said they had money in them but who knows. Well back to work. Hey, don’t take any wooden nickels.

4

In summer, I rent a room (with a very large bathroom, that doubles as a makeshift kitchen) in a big old farmhouse in Maine. I have lived somewhere in this house - this room, another, or an attached apartment, for five or six years, the last three only in summer - before that, all year.

Right now, my landlady, who is eighty-something, is hosting thursday “tea” (they party) downstairs. I am on the third floor. Seventy-five a week, inclusive. I have, through an angled skylight, a nice view of the adjacent field, where we get a fire going in the pit, from time to time. And woods out the other window. Deer in the yard before dawn, often.

In summer, there are a couple of students doing summer work living here, but no one else here yet. My landlady is a good friend and great cook. Sometimes I cook for the house, sometimes she does. Mostly we’re on our own, and share the kitchen.

I may stay all year this year, may go to Florida to an abode unknown to me at this time. May go to Cali. I dunno. My possesions all fit into my truck, except the boat, which can be towed, so I move around a bit.

It’s an old place, but the squeaking floors don’t bother me - my landlady is no prude, and so even when it’s late and I am accompanied, the floors tell no tales I am unwilling for her to hear. I only wish there were more tales to tell.

Lots of wine at dinner, if I am around for dinner, which I am usually not. I can smoke dope. I use to play the flute, which seems to bother no one. People wander in and out at will, there are no locks on the doors. Some of them are quite interesting. My landlady was a philo major in school, so I can even converse with her about that. The house is full of books and artwork - she even listens to the opera on saturdays. She also is an artist of some local note.

My room is a bit of a garret - slanted wall on one side, well-worn varnish on the wide-board floors. Bathroom has a clawfoot tub. Marble sink. It’s pretty quiet up here, but often bustling downstairs. Red, an orange cat of the house, is resting comfortably at the foot of my bed. Two miles to work and five minutes from miles of woodland trails.

I’m pretty happy here.

5

Hey Typhoeus, how much is the rent? Maybe you could get something with light, heat, and medication included, if you shop around a bit.

6

The rent equals the value of five dollyrockers (an old make of dress) and it can be paid in two parts or in full, but if paid in two parts the two parts DO have to be paid simultaneously. I know, counterintuitive, (maybe detrops fat roommate can pen one of her famous letters) but Gus, the landthing, is not adequately brained. In fact, he’d be more adequately brained if I fucking brained him when he wasn’t looking. Heh heh, heh. Ouch. Thanks for the laughs faust. I have to go hemorrage in a bucket, preferably somewhere dark.

There are a thousand deer ticks in my stomach and they’re like black rhinestones spelling out different words on the pink wet surfaces every day. Today they’re spelling the word “double cassette player.” Fuck them, they know how to make me miss home. In fairness, landthing can cook, sometimes we cook the house, and eat flanks of wallboard with garlic, which is in limited supply. I keep a garlic plugged in my nose at all times, so everything I eat tastes garlicy even If there aren’t garlic around. There is a skylight but it doesn’t emit shafts of dramatic natural light, instead it prefers to convert any light from outside into manatee corpses that shit down from the ceiling in what we call “thuds.”

7

I live in a mansion but I clean my own house and even cook. Sometimes I get lost in it and can’t find my children. :unamused:

8

i live in west boise, idaho. one block to the south is the boise river, great for bridge jumping and swiming, one block north is the boise foothills, small mountains to hike.

I live with 2 other males. one 21 and one 26.

the 21 year old, plays doom like computer games and eats chicken nuggets all day. He also watches all the lord of the rings dvd’s and commentary dvds in a row sometimes, which I believe is over 10 hours.

the 26 year old writes music in his room and reads about plants and horticulture most of the day.

I am also 26 and write music most of the day, and skateboard. And I eat cheese sandwiches instead of chicken nuggests all day.