Hot in the city. Hot in the city tonight.

Well, this has been I think the hottest week in July here in recorded history. I'm here in a sauna on the 11th floor in the West End. I've half a mind to shave these cats. They're basically always in the window.

This apartment building has a pool, but I checked it out, and it's not nearly as nice as the Pacific Ocean, which is exactly two blocks away. I once dated a girl who lived in this neighbourhood (right across the street, actually), and I always said that as long as it wasn't winter, it was a great place to live. It's true, too. Fireworks wrap up on Saturday, and it's also gay pride this weekend too. It's going to be a zoo. As long as I can walk downhill in my trunks and jump in, it can stay 30 degrees all it wants.

Phase 7: The Westender

I've moved now to the West End of Vancouver, a very populated place with lots of yuppies and homosexuals. I'm on the 11th floor, which would be great for fireworks night tonight, except it faces North, not South. I'm going to try to figure out how to get on the roof.

Other perks include being two blocks from Sunset Beach, and a sauna and pool being right in the building. I have two cats here to take care of for the next three weeks or so.

Estimated budget for July:

Insurance: $238 for both vehicles.

Extra gas: $200

Less money recovered renting my van out to Dylan: -$300.

Net vehicle: $138.

Kitty litter: $12.

Storage: $75

Total: $225.

Total savings: $465.

Now you say you wanna live with me. 1, 2, 3, you wanna do my laundry.

How can you leave a place where people actually enjoy folding your laundry? Seriously!



I'm walking a bit now. I guess I insured the car for nothing. Oh well.

East Hatchback Diaries

So I loves me a bargain, I do. I lives me a bargain so much, in fact, that I bought a Volkswagen Golf a couple months ago. A friend was selling it cheap and I simply couldn't resist. Up until a little over a week ago, my plan was simple enough; I would use the van to move all the time, the scooter or bike to get to work, sell the van, go to Europe, return and drive the car (as it would be Winter by then). Simple, right? No. The thing is, I got greedy and started renting my van to bands between the moves I was doing from place to place. Now I have a van in another province, and I've had to insure the car to get around with my broken foot. Jeez. That's another $133/month cutting into my savings. But isn't it great?

Phase 6: Split Level/Split Bone

So things have been pretty sweet here thus far. Tara and Nevada live with two kitties named Ginger and Cilantro. Here is Ginger testing the new scratching post:


Here she is being a suck:



Morgan and Codi were kind enough to move my stuff. Living with a broken foot makes you appreciate people who carry things. Although this is the first place where I don't get a bed, I'm pretty glad because having some hands around here makes it a lot easier.

I Knew This Would Get Boring

Okay, so I ain't a fool. As exciting as pseudo-homelessness seems, it's not always fun to write about. Last week (Phase 4) was spent at Katie and Shane's, and ended without incident. I moved to Phase 5 (Morgan's house) before lending my van to Ian. It came back with a flat tire. Ian somehow managed to watch me floor pump the tire from in the rim to 35 P.S.I. before suddenly remembering pulling a jagged shard of metal out if the sidewall of the very same tire the night before. Classic Ian.

Anyhow, I never like driving the van in the sun because I have my scooter. My intention was to fix it within a week so I could get my stuff out of Morgan's place before he gets back. The trouble with the scooter is that the centre stand is severely bent such that the bike sits so low, one can't start it because the kick starter just slams into the ground. Ideally, the front wheel should be up about six inches so the starter can crank right around. In order to get around this, I've been putting the bike on the very edge of the sidewalk and kicking at it from the street below. That way, the starter hangs out over the street and has room to crank all the way over.

Yesterday, I left work halfway through the day to run errands. One errand was fixing the tire of the van. I did my usual sidewalk routine, and once I got her started, I went to take her off the stand, misjudged, and the whole shit came down, throwing me on the street. I took all the weight of the scooter on my right foot. It fucking hurt!

I spent the next few hours, pride in check, running errands. I hobbled around for blocks. I bought some beer and went back to Morgan's. Upon pulling off my shoe, I saw this:



Uh oh. I told Shannon what happened, and she made me go to the hospital. Fortunately, Morgan lives only two blocks from one, so I kicked off my other shoe and walked.

As it turns out, it's broken. I need crutches to walk, a tensor bandage to hold it together, and my van to get around. I also have to move tomorrow again, and suddenly have to rely on others just to move my clothes. To make matters worse, I've rented my van to Dylan for a solo tour starting next week, so I won't even have that. That's right, the cocky bastard with three vehicles and a bicycle is going to be rocking public transit. I'm sure I somehow deserve this.

Oh, and I had to steal Morgan's shoes. The guy is a snappy dresser:



He also has slightly bigger feet than I do, so his shoes fit over the tensor bandage:



Nice kicks, hey? At least I made my blog interesting.

Phase 4: Papa Two Guineas

I had planned in spending five days at Mark Wilson's house, but then I found out that Katie was going to visit her sister in St. Louis, and needed a sitter for her two Guinea Pigs. They're so cute!



Anyhow so not much to report. Free rent, cute pets, and central location. Also, I've been doing a lot of laundry. I did a bunch of laundry and Tara and Nevada's house when I was staying at Emily's, but there was so much left because I avoid paying for laundry. Now I'm totally caught up.