We spent most of the time househunting. We checked out a couple of actual houses: a duplex which was gorgeous (granite countertops!) but we suspected we'd be having conversations with the landlord that went "So, I was in your house changing a light fixture and I noticed ...", a very nice 70s house which had nicotine-stained acoustic ceilings, and a cottage that we loved but which was too much upkeep for M to do by herself.
Then we moved on to apartments, ranging from rent-controlled horrors that reeked of McDonald's french fries and desperation to a place where, as we drove up in our rental, I exclaimed, "Oh, look! Ponceville, run by Poncy Bastards, Ltd.! Do you want to look at it? This is way too posh for our kind."
One day I'll learn to shut my mouth, because ... we're going to be living in Ponceville now. ;) But we have a balcony and a dining room with a chandelier, and they'll let us paint, and we couldn't be happier with it. Well, we could be happier with it if it were cheaper -- money's going to be tight until I can get employed back East too -- but it's not a bad price considering it's a quiet, safe location and, knock on wood, I think she'll be okay there until I can join her. You can't put a price tag on peace of mind.
Other things we're happy with:
This will be M's commute to work.
And this is the view from our balcony.
Yeah, we really can't complain about that too much.
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