Clean up in storage unit #220

We spent today paring down items to Must-Haves for the big move to Portland. Uncharacteristically (of me anyway), we are keeping it realisitc, space-wise. We have it narrowed down to a dozen or so boxes, our box painting, and our clothes and bedding.

Who Paints Boxes? by Country Neal
(premier archetype of the Blankenships)

Finding an apartment is nerve-wracking. I can look all I want to from here, but until we get there and can go look at places, we're in Apt Limbo. I've been scouring craigslist and getting crushes on studios with hardwood floors. Apartments downtown are preferable to any "wooded complex with a pool" (ugh, could it be less desirable to live in a 45-unit apt complex off the interstate?), so we have to stay close to the MAX, or any form of the Tri-Met.

Now if I could only find a job. Craigslist is a great idea, in theory. But the jobs section has been dry lately. There's tons of postings for Keith's line of work, but I'm coming up largely empty handed. I did apply for an Americorps position I'd love to get, but they aren't hiring until the end of the month and I don't know if I want to wait for it. I may not have a choice!

Also, let's just say, on the topic of housing again, that any person answering the phone on the other end of my apartment query who starts to say, "But we do have breed restrictions," gets a "Well, we refuse to rent anywhere that has breed restrictions," and the dial tone in their ear. I mean, if you were a responsible landlord/agency you would interview all pets and weed them out that way. Assuming that a dog is a risk just because of its breed is ignorant. I've met plenty of nasty dogs that are not pit bulls, rotties, pinschers, or chows. So stop your doggy racial profiling, okay.