You want to hear about Dre and my new apartment? Yes, you do.

So yes: it’s on a busy street. Well, it’s actually not that busy. Yes, it’s an arterial…but it’s an artery to the beach, so it’s quiet at night. And we’re far back from the street…a little bit farther than my old apartment in Seattle was from Madison, which was also a four lane street. Advantage, Venice: I’m not right by an intersection, so the cars don’t stop like they did in Seattle. They just drive on by.

So yes: it has carpets. But it also has a balcony and for once the advertising was indicative — the “OCEAN BREEZES!!!!!” mentioned in the Westside Rentals listing really do exist. The prayer flags on our balcony are constantly in motion, and the windchime pretty sings little songs during the day (thankfully for my neighbors’ sanity, the breeze stops at night). The balcony also boasts a big rainbow-y kite and two rainbow paper party globes that I put up. Oh, and there’s a mini disco ball near the windchime. From a distance, I’m guessing our balcony looks either A) very tacky or B) very gay.

So yes: it has a nice view. Here’s what I see from bed. From the balcony, you can see TO the beach nine blocks away, although you can’t actually see the beach.

So yes: it’s also big. And, yet again, I have rooftop access, so I can hoop under the sky.

Disadvantages: the outdoor walkways of the apartment building feel sort of bleak and dismal at night, with their stucco walls and flickering flourescent lights. Despite all the modern ammenities like dishwasher, garbage disposal, ceiling fan (which I’ve knicknamed “Fan Fuckting Tastic,” because it is), and gas fireplace, the apartment is not charming. The more of my weird shit that gets unpacked, though, the funkier the white walls seem.

(Aside: the Inflatable Buddha is now Deflatable Buddha. Buddha suffered some injuries on the drive down, and is now a white plastic pancake.)

I still don’t know what the fuck to do with carpets, although I bought a little yellow vacuum cleaner yesterday in an effort to toss a bone to the snarling Beast of Floor Coverings. And Madison Market is not within walking distance. I need to get a bike so I don’t have to drive my butt around Venice (and yes, the rest of me stays at home…it’s just my butt, cheeks on the steering wheel, that cruises around).