May 31, 2005 - 4:42 p.m.

Too, too busy as of late, with both good things (weddings! shows! the coolest friends on the planet!) and bad (impending homelessness! liberal interpretation of the term �three bedrooms� on the part of many craigslist landlords! not enough time to spend with the coolest friends on the planet!). Everything seems to be coming at me full speed, and I barely have time to register anything except a vague sense of hysteria, panic, happiness or some combination of the three.

The housemates and I have decided that we�re probably out of our place for good, because the landlord needs to sell our unit in order to be able to afford to do the foundation work that�s required on the place. We are legally entitled to move back into the unit once the work is done, but then the new owners would very likely kick us out in order to move in, and it just seems a little fruitless, not to mention tiresome, to move three times in less than a year.

The rent control folks would say that we�re lying down and letting The Man run us over with his, uh, steamroller of capitalism or whatever, but then, they�re not the ones who have to fill out all the rental applications and rent the U-Haul trucks and so forth.

It is horrible, this feeling of not knowing where we�re going to live in less than a month. Which is probably being too dramatic. I mean, there have been a couple of places we could�ve taken already, but we wrong for whatever reason, and I am sure that when it comes right down to it, none of us will end up living in a box. But in the meantime, walking around with this constant, low-grade panic is not the best feeling in the world.

I have actually � and this is too Californian for words � tried to take up meditation lately, as a way of combating the tension and accompanying headaches and crying jags, but it turns out I am really, really bad at centering myself. My mantra goes something like, �Fuck, fuck, fuck, credit report, fuck, pet deposit, fuck, move-in costs, double fuck, etc. etc.�

But! There are also good things on the horizon. Starting Thursday, I will be seeing a new friend�s band, David Cross, and Sleater-Kinney (with Mary Timony!), in that order. And then Sunday is Beth and Jeremy�s not-a-wedding-reception thing, which I am very much looking forward to, despite the fact that I have no idea what I am wearing.

Also, we are planning a final party in our flat the weekend before we move out, and, well, the flat is being remodeled right afterwards, which means only one thing. Yes -- you can totally wear your roller skates.

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