No…seriously?

Every once in a while, I check to see what my old hovel might rent for now that San Francisco has moved one step beyond into the era of super, cartoonishly ridiculous rents. Apparently, a unit in my old building (they were all pretty much identical) was on the market just last month for the princely sum of $3200/month.

$3200.

If you’ve ever visited the place, you understand just how laughably insane I find that number. In 1992, I thought it was a little overpriced even for San Francisco at the time, at $800. When I moved out in 2005, rent control had limited the increase to about $935. At the going rate of inflation in the US, it should be renting now for around $1400.

But no.

$3200.

I rather liked my old landlord and I’m glad he’s raking in the money. I imagine there have been some renovations since I left.

But damn.

$3200.

Maybe I should’ve bought property there. It’s not like I’d have to live in it or anything.

17 things…

I usually don’t take these “click bait” lists very seriously, but a friend of a friend posted this one the other day and it’s surprisingly spot on.

1,2,3,6,8,9,11,14,15,16,17

Humor: Biggie. Sometimes I think I rely on it too much and that other people think I never take anything seriously. Which is so not the case.

Hurting other people’s feelings: Horrifies me.

Unless they deserve it for being an asshole to someone else (or a group).
I can’t be an asshole, even when I sort of need to (e.g. employee who needs discipline, person I need to ease out of my life)

Easily hurt, though you’d maybe not know it and I’d probably try to laugh about it to minimize things.

Suspicious and wary of other people, especially when they’re in groups.

Sometimes even if they’re my friends.
Afraid to approach and join in.

Definitely hard for me to be vulnerable or to “owe” anyone. I try to be very self-sufficient when it comes to emotional shit and only like to talk about it in broad terms, or to make jokes. And I kind of resent it when people use me for help, especially if they have hurt me in the past.

Whole lotta Canada onstage

Sloan at Cat’s Cradle Backroom. This makes up for not getting to see them last year in Toronto. This was actually better (and much cheaper) because it was a small club. Great show with many fewer annoying 19-year-olds than at most shows in Chapel Hill. And my minor crush on Chris Murphy continues stronger than ever now that we’ve been just fifteen or twenty feet from each other. Sigh…

Contentment

I have my house back. This pleases me.

Randomly Wednesday night

Watching “Naked City” and recovering after class and a really long day, the following come to mind:

I had no idea while I was doing the Planet SOMA US Tour in 1997, this was going on pretty much simultaneously. I’m reading a book on it now, one of my acquisitions from last month’s annual “Thanksgiving in Canada” road trip.
Speaking of Thanksgiving trips, I’m thinking of fleeing to Atlanta for American Thanksgiving this year.
Speaking of Canada, I’m seeing Sloan next week in Chapel Hill. I have seen many of my favorite Canadian bands this year. I have not actually seen any of them in Canada.
I have a houseguest in the spare room; I’m helping out a friend who needs a place to stay for a week or so as he looks for a new home. He’s a nice guy and is generally being a “good guest” but I hate having someone else (someone whose quirks I don’t know all that well) in my house for an extended period. I’ve lived alone too long and I do not envision marriage or a roommate ever being an option for me again. And no, he’s not a follower of this site.
It’s McRib season again. You probably don’t care. That’s fine. More for me.