Since I don't seem to have any time to write new posts I've decided to run some old posts that I'm fond of. This is the very first post I ever wrote:
March 2004
A friend of mine suggested keeping a log of how many days I could go without getting stabbed and/or shot. So far, I'm happy to report, I have experienced neither offense to my person. My mother is happy about that as well.
A BRIEF SYNOPSIS OF MY FIRST WEEK IN MOTOWN
Day 1- Arrived at Detroit International Airport to find snow on the ground. Giddy with excitement, I couldn't wait to see urban squalor! I'm a writer, by trade, and a novelist, in my dreams, and thought that Detroit would provide me with life experience that I just couldn't find living in the posh stuccoed suburb of LA that I had surreptitiously escaped. Unfortunately, it was dark when my plane landed and so all I was able to see was the world's largest tire (Detroit-Motor City) on my way into the city. Downtown Detroit. My new home.
Day 2- Find apartment. Attempt to blend in. Ha! Amazing I wasn't car jacked my first full day here.
Day 3- Found dingy basement apartment smaller than my bathroom back home. Went to fabric store in attempt to "liven up the place". Bought Martha Stewart like fabric for curtains, briefly forgetting that I didn't know how to sew and that I didn't like Martha Stewart. Detroit scared me into discovering roots in my Anglo Saxon ancestors. Didn't know that I was part of Martha's bloodline. Already learning new things about myself.
Day 4- Discovered new apartment was conveniently located next to dumpsters of Greek restaurant near my building. Brilliantly deduced this when a cockroach the size of Michigan found a home on my brand new pillow case (perfectly matching my Martha curtains that still were yet to be made). Maybe I'm not cut out for Detroit. Don't like sun, but don't like cockroaches more. And WHY was I now sleeping on sheets inspired by Martha? Lack of sunshine getting to brain.
Day 5- Told landlord to find a new tenant for his basement rat hole. He actually seemed sad to see me go. Probably suspected that my rent checks wouldn't bounce. Ha! Detroit-1, Gigi- 1.
Day 6- Find beautiful flat in a desolate part of town. Only $800 a month and 5 times as big as basement rat hole. Oozing with charm... and a highly suspicious stain on the floor directly inside the front door. Oozing of blood, too? I envision a "caller" with a weapon and a resident with a bullet hole (or three) lying on my beautiful wooden floors, life bleeding out where I now stand to remove my snow boots. Buy rug to hide stain. Take up martini habit to forget stain's existence.
Day 7- Hear first round of gunshots. Hit floor. Miss sunshine. Contemplate moving home and becoming banker or computer programmer.
I like this - it's like renting the whole first season of Breakfast at Gigi's on DVD so I can see what I missed!
Posted by: IrishGoddess | January 27, 2007 at 12:15 PM