Worried depression might be taking hold. 14 hours of sleep yesterday and it was still an effort to get out of bed. Worse, the dreams were not productive; they were restless, unresolved mini-dramas. I can only hope that this was the physical manifestation of my sub-conscious working overtime to find a path through this tangled web of space-time that solves my housing crisis.Clearly, I'm worried, and on top of this, the warm weather is prompting clothing styles which do not necessarily lend themselves well to sustaining my illusion of womanhood. Or maybe they do, it would seem reasonable my self-image radar is off given the current life stressors.
Craig's list has been ... illuminating. I've been thankful to get many replies to my post seeking a room, but less fortunate in finding someone who has to offer what I asked for. Seems a lot of people have bought houses out there with the intention of renting them out. Neighborhoods of streets cul-de-sac into forms more resembling bronchial passageways than homes. Seriously, check it out for yourself! Miles and miles of nothing but residential housing.
Ike is the best opportunity thus far... a meticulous, 40 year-old drug-free European living just over a mile West from South LV Blvd. Lives in a neighborhood called Valley View VII. Creative name. He is fond of sending me photos of himself mixed in with the house. I guess this is appropriate, as I'd probably see his face if I lived there. Here's where he lives.
Mystery man has exactly what I want... a room on the 23rd floor of a high-rise condo one block West of the strip. But he's gone strangely silent after getting a photo, much like I do when they ask me for photos in my swimsuit, although again, using Ike-logic, since they have houses with pools, I suppose it's not an unrealistic, if pig-headed, desire.
Speaking of boys who want swimsuit photos, LJ has a nice place, but two dogs, who "are hardly in the house" but maybe an hour a day and at night, or in Clio's words, "1/3 of the time" which is close enough to "all the time" for me. I don't want to live with animals other than humans.
Daniel, who also has a Ph.D. is also looking to meet people. He offers an older home in a poorer part of Vegas, but is otherwise genuine and upfront. He's divorced with a 7 year-old and already renting out his den to two college girls. He regales me with predation stories in an effort to a) warn me of Vegas, and b) let me know he's quality. Seems on the up and up (in so far as it can be) but not really what I'm looking for.
And then there's SOFIA who can only type in all caps. Born and raised in Vegas, I actually spent about an hour talking to her about the area before I found out she was ... 17! Eeep! Funny thing, she's quite mature for her age and is seeking a 30-40 year-old woman to share a house with on the outskirts of Vegas. No kidding. I wonder if I qualify? Her only age give-away is her sheer enthusiasm mixed with a lack of real-world vocabulary as evidenced by an over-frequent use of "amazing, wonderful", "great", and "awesome". The red-flag and drama-meters are pegged, but I'm not sure she's a creature can be measured with normal person calibrations. Dad pays the rent and gives her a car. In many ways, it sounds too good to be true... but then again, so do I. At any rate, what she's looking for in a house (location-wise) is not what I'm seeking, but my heart goes out to her... poor thing.
And then there's the slew of boys who live 20 minutes from the strip (by car) who responded to my ad anyway. (In it, I said I was looking for something close to the strip... 20 mins away is about as far away as you can be and still be in Vegas!) Besides, have you seen Vegas traffic? It was awful 6 years ago, I can't imagine it now!
And what would the internet be without the boys looking for a girlfriend by offering free rent in exchange for cleaning and sexual favors? I wonder if I'd be rejected by them? OMG, those poor ladies who go out there and the get evicted at a moment's notice. I think my heart would break out there from all the sad stories.
Finally, I wonder if I'm the kind of girl that has to be met in person to be appreciated at face value. My goal is not to deceive, but suddenly now that I'm passing, I'm struck with the double fear of being exposed and, odd as it sounds, not passing. Both will subside when I can pass in a swimsuit... not quite there yet, though... at least, not at the Vegas level of pretty. (Self image is rotten masculine now.)
Hmmm... Italy probably won't be much better... but maybe I'll be different enough to still look feminine compared to all the local beauty.
Maybe I don't want to go to Vegas in some sort of sharing arrangement. I certainly don't think I can survive out there without a car. And what the heck am I doing considering moving to a desert anyway?
I think I need a nap.
