Insert your own pithy and lengthy entry here. I would have done it for you, but instead I fell asleep on the couch.

The one thought that’s been rolling around in the isolated, empty space that is my brain cavity is all about home ownership. The short of it is I think about the nasty little minds conceiving the housing crisis around the poor folk who have gotten in over their heads haven’t rented in a while. Even with a pretty cool landlord and sufficient resources to live a mellow life, dealing with the man who owns the house and paying the bills for him grinds you down a bit.

Take the security deposit. Mostly they take it. This time around, we no doubt won’t have a crazy Nick on our hands. But, Fred from the management company hasn’t shown up twice now for our walk through, standing up first M. on a Wednesday night and then me on Thursday.

I’m boring myself into a comfy couch stupor, so forget reading any sense in the paragraphs above. Instead, take a look at our housewarming party on Saturday and the reason we moved to this town, the cliched and beautiful ocean.

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