Finding housing in Portland is a nightmare. James and I have been mounting the most exhaustive apartment search known to man, going to neighborhoods and just walking down every street looking for apartment buildings and "for rent" signs. We've gotten really good at distinguishing between apartments, condos, and retirement/nursing homes from a distance. We're also getting pretty good at guessing the price. What we're not getting very good at is actually finding a place to live. Places that show up on craigslist are already taken by the time we see the post. Places that we're cold-calling aren't calling us back.

We'd been noticing around northwest that the majority of the buildings were owned by the same company with the phone number 242-4242. I'm pretty tired of the "two-fo" people as I now call them, because I know that they have no vacancies, but their buildings look so enticing until I get close enough to read the phone number and realize it's a waste of time. Today I hit a new low. I was calling a building on NW 18th and when I asked about a 2 bedroom apartment the guy just started laughing. After about 10 seconds of laughing he says,
"Do you get the joke?"
I said, "I think I'm beginning to, yes."
"There aren't many two bedrooms in northwest, but you might want to try this number. 503-242-4242."

Then I come home to look at craigslist again and when I take my computer out of my bag it's making horrible rattling sounds like the components have broken loose inside. I remembered last night running from Goose Hollow to Katie's apartment and realize that my computer is fucked. Just what I need. 300 more pages of The Pioneers to read, a final exam to write, a house to find, and my computer begins its death rattle.

So I ripped the motherfucker apart and fixed the damn thing.

Nothing feels quite as good as voiding your warranty.