I signed a new lease today, and all it took was some mild, low-level stalking of my new landlord. Bill is a kooky, laissez-faire old dude who drives a pickup and seems to own, like, half the ramshackle apartment buildings of Savannah. I had to leave him two voicemails to get a hold of him, but this does not bother me as far as future interactions with him go. (Possibly because I am stupid, but only time will tell.)

I think he’s just very busy and very big-picture about the whole landlording thing. (I hope I hope.) For example, I asked if my lease can start on the last weekend in May, so that I’ll have a week of overlap with my current house and therefore a week to move things and clean and stuff. He was fine with it and even declined my offer to pay a prorated rent for that week, saying he was just too busy for “teeny details” like that, and wanted to help me out. So, fine.

My new place is a one-bedroom on the west side of town (west side, represent!) (sorry, I am very white, in case you hadn’t guessed). It has off-street parking, so hopefully my car will be safe from the drunk savages I share the city with. It has a huge long front hallway, with a parallel inexplicably huge long closet, plus a teeny bathroom, a good-sized kitchen, hardwood floors, and windows facing the east side of the world. Also it is painted an electric, acid green. (Like this.)

I love this color. At the end of my last term as a painting grad student (sniff) I did a very big painting that incorporated that color (see it at the bottom right?):

This is called Collective Hair at the Big Rock Candy Mountain.

And I really liked the color when I put it in the painting, and I ended up really liking the painting in general, so when Bill The Kooky Landlord showed me an apartment in acid green, of course I had to take it.