Thirteen Days

I have been in America thirteen days.  In that time, I have (with a large amount of assistance from  my mother – i.e., she did it all) purchased a house, rented temporary housing, bought a car (more on this later), met some awesome people, drunk all the wine, lost one of my favorite necklaces, written drunken poetry in a bar where they were playing True Blood on a projector screen, almost crashed into an Entergy truck, gone to a night club dressed as a slutty Hogwarts student, played with a ouija board, gotten a flat tire, petted some kitties, made a complaint to the attorney general’s office and been bitten by roughly 7000 mosquitos. I left it too long to blog due to the extreme amount of STUFF I’ve been packing into my days.  All I can tell...

Apartment Hunting – hip hip hooray

Initially, when I planned to move to New Orleans, an amazing opportunity fell into my lap.  My best friend worked with a guy from Texas who told her he owned several properties in the US, including an AMAZING house in New Orleans.  “It’s fully renovated” he told her “your friend can live there, if she likes.  I don’t rent them out because it’s too much hassle, but if she promises to look after the property for me, she can have it”. Ho boy, I thought.  FREE HOUSE!  At the time it did seem a little too good to be true, but what could possibly go wrong?  I met with him.  He seemed like an amiable, pleasant fellow.  He spoke about contracts and lawyers and things that lent an air of legitimacy to the whole proceedings.  It...


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