Sunday, September 21, 2008

G-boro Bound

I'm officially moving from the Winnie to the Greenie. Next week. And I'm thrilled.
Since moving to the South two years ago, I've lived in Winston-Salem. It's a nice town--quiet, pretty, quiet. But I've had my heart set on Greensboro, 40 minutes down the road, for some time.
The 40 miles of singletrack may or may not have everything something to do with my decision. But Greensboro is a bigger town, boasts a population of younger folk who haven't been married by age 22 (must be a Southern Baptist thing that stipulates people marry so efffin young), has better cycling/running options, AND a better downtown.
Where, conveniently, I now work and will soon live. Next week.

I AM A LANDLORD, bizaaatches. That's right. I have the power to evict. After interviewing numerous potential tenants from my Craigslist listing, I picked one who seemed like she would take care of my little house, made her sign an eight-page lease, and told her I prefer to be addressed as Landlord. With a capital L. I will call her serf. Lowercase.

I rented a condo downtown, which means I will be able to ride my bike or walk to work.
I will miss having my very own backyard (where will we play Extreme Croquet?) and walls not shared with neighbors, but whatevs.

I will also respond to Ms. Landlord.


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