Careful what you wish for...

About a month ago, halfway through my second academic year here, I found myself wishing I had made a more romantic choice of living arrangements. The place I had was nice enough. Strategically placed in between work and the places I go for fun. Seemingly nice roommates. Una terraza de puta madre. Yet still when I walked down the street, pretty much all I saw were block after block of boring mid-twentieth century apartment buildings largely filled with disgruntled old rich people. The president of my building's association, for example, was a man who had proudly worked the way to the tops of Franco's air force, and hated our appartment (the only one filled with twenty-something subletters) with a passion. After he abruptly forced us to cancel my birthday party last year, I can't say I was a big fan either. So from time to time I found myself daydreaming about living in Malasaña, La Latina, or Lavapies, one of those neighborhoods filled with young, poor but hopeful people.

Well, I got my wish.... but the road that's taken me to Malasaña has been a little bumpier than I would have liked. After dwelling on the negative for more than a week I'm trying to focus on the good things. Suffice it to say one of the old roomies hiked up the rest of our shares of the rent, a move that hurt me more emotionally than it would have hurt my finances. At any rate I decided to leave, and by great luck in my friend Syreeta's appartment there was a room available that was very fitting for my bohemian fantasies. Maybe too fitting. It's small, about big enough for a dress and a twin bed, which is fine. The killer is there's no window, but it's only for three months, and I will be able to save for the next phase of my life. The current game plan is to leave Madrid in June and backpack around until fall if possible, maybe with some camp-counseling or wwoofing worked in there.

And the location is perfect in all the most impractical ways. The morning commute will be slightly longer but the neighborhood features several of my favorite things: the best pizza in town, the best vegetarian restaurant in town,  a store with second-hand books in English, and just that dirty but vibrant charm I love. (Check the neighborhood newspaper which features not one but two articles about graffiti. )

i´ll be there for you...

So after a couple of months living in Carabanchel at José's(for the visual learners: http://maps.google.es/maps/ms?msa=0&msid=110664284521662654017.00045c7584d62b907667d&ie=UTF8&ll=40.411666,-3.750629&spn=0.233697,0.439453&z=11 ), I decided to start looking at apartments again mainly due to logistics. If I want to do something downtown in the afternoon and something downtown at night it is always uncomfortable to try to make it home and back. At least a half hour each way, more if Atletico Madrid has a home soccer game. Two weeks ago after returning late from a day trip to El Escorial I ended up missing a movie I wanted to see at an LGBT film festival, not a huge loss but I'm supposed to be seizing the day over here so I steeled myself to start apartment hunting... again. By moving to the northwest side of Madrid I can get much closer to the centro without getting much farther from school. I´m looking in the area between the Moncloa bus station and the centro.

If my quest were purely logistic, I would probably be done by now, but like many of my generation I am afflicted with Friends syndrome, the irrational belief that I can live cheaply in a spacious appartment in a trendy neighborhood with a group of friends who are like my family while pursuing my dreams as an actor, a hippy, a fashion designer, a chef, an archeologist or... wait what is it that Chandler does?.

Okay it´s mainly the group of friends that's the hang up. If I'm honest with myself a big part of my motivation is the hope that if I move in with a group of 2 or 3 chill madrileños about my age I will instantly have the social life I feel that I am lacking right now. But of course such close knit groups of friends aren't typically looking for a one-year passer through, and that's especially true in Spain where it seems like people usually have the same group of friends from diapers to diapers. So holding out for the right feel, I've now passed on a couple of acceptable offers, and I'm starting to lose energy.

I'm debating taking a place in Chueca, the gay ghetto of Madrid. My roommates would be a Colombian about my age and a middle aged Brasilian. I hate to say it but I'm kind of hung up on national origin, too. I'd like to live with madrileños failing that Spaniards failing that at least native Spanish speakers. Plus, this place is maybe too in the middle of things. Right above a discoteca. And I should worn any female readers who may have wanted to visit, that one bad hetero roommate and his girlfriend ruined it for you all. The Brazilian has banned any overnight visitors with breasts. While I waffle, someone else has probably jumped on it anyway.

Of course during the course of the apartment search, I have started to develop a social life based around COGAM, the LGBT collective. I started out going to an English language learners discussion group and keep getting sucked deeper and deeper in. I now go to a purely social group conducted in Spanish on Saturday night, and next Saturday I will take my first turn of duty in la patrulla condonera, that's right the condom patrol. So maybe I can let go of the Friends fantasy... but just as I prepare to do that I find this article in the good old New York Times about Daniel Vosovic's apartment. The man who lost Project Runway but won our hearts, seems to be living the dream albeit at 5,000 dollars a month: http://www.nytimes.com/2008/11/23/realestate/23habi.html?partner=permalink&exprod=permalink

What do you think, do I stick it out for the perfect apartment of hip twenty-somethings or do I go with the mamaphobic Brazilian?

Apartment search

So I´m watching some nuns on a cooking show on TV and thinking maybe I should just join a convent. Good simple food. Bells telling you when you have to do something. Sounds kind of nice right now. Looking for an appartment is hard. I never really did that before, I always joined the project after that step was already accomplished. Looking for a room in a shared appartment is even harder, but that´s my ideal: an appartment shared with chill Spaniards about my age. Living with José has been a great help, but I think I need to try and find something with people my age. The probem is it seems like most people exactly my age still live with their parents here, but I´ve been finding lots of listings with slightly older twentysomethings. I went to visit the first one last night. It´s a little too expensive but the location is perfect. Close to a bus station that will take me to my school and 2 metro stops away from down town. The people seemed really cool too, really chic young profesionals. Maybe too chic. I didn´t really get the impression they were going to call me back, but we´ll see.