Well, ladies and the odd inquisitive gent, my sneaky disappearing act (thus the Carmen SanDiego, though I don’t think she ever disappeared, she was just really, really, hard to find) has been brought on by a perilous endeavour which I like to call house hunting. You probably already know this, but Jesse and I are moving in together, and I am the designated house hunter… unfortunately, Jesse and I don’t really work the same way. Other than the obvious explanation of I am not Jesse and Jesse is not me, I like to fly by the seat of my pants on these kinds of things; I don’t settle very easily, but living in Montreal, seemingly, means I must change my ways, or miraculously come into a lot of money, not tell Jesse how much the place actually costs, and leave her blissfully unaware. Unfortunately, again, the former seems far more probable.
Is a nice apartment really too much to ask? No. But apparently, as soon as you live in Montreal, all standards must be lowered. Anyways, here’s to hoping Jesse doesn’t get fed up with me before I find a place and then I have to look for a one bedroom… Now that, would be terrible.
Regular posts coming back tomorrow. But in order to keep this somewhat gay, Lindsay and Sam back together? Hmmm.