home sweet revolving-door home

Every residence in Denver has a moniker.

They’re not as effective as addresses for the bankrupt U.S. post office when forwarding my mail, granted. Nonetheless, each bears the stamp of an essence, energy and experience outside the scope if any functioning or subsidized government-sort body.

On the eve of the bext move, let’s line ’em up, those residences since July:

1. The Motel I Couldn’t Leave. 3 weeks. Thank you unresponsive craigslisters with housing ads.

2. The House of Wincing (not Windsor). 2.5 mos. Mother-daughter duo more dangerous than two pissed-off cobras in a basket.

3. The Rampager. 2 weeks. Crazy. Irrational. Mildly psychotic. Changed locks on me in a snowstorm, rendering me homeless, not to mention sleepless on my first day at the job. Traumatizing.

4. The House of a Man of God (or Not). 2 months. Lifted me out of homelessness, for which I’m deeply grateful. A man of his word, or God’s, he was not, despite claims to the contrary. Another case made for anti-religion.

5. The House of the Deceiver and (Her) Believer. 2 months. In earth credo, (my) intelligence and intuition can’t hold a candle to a person of deceit, manipulation and charm. None is blinder than he who will not see. Time to leave.

Where are my people in Denver?

6. to be ‘monikered’

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3 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Karyn @ kloppenmum
    Mar 01, 2012 @ 20:36:05

    Grief, you are having more of an adventure than what’s healthy. Hope all’s well that ends well! πŸ™‚

    Reply

    • longeyesamurai
      Mar 02, 2012 @ 07:00:51

      If you can still a laugh out of this, I’m pretty you could your past year as a TV project.

      Seriously, number six’s better be more along the lines of “place that gives you more than it takes away” because your past year feels like a sinkhole.

      Reply

      • allycatadventures
        Mar 02, 2012 @ 11:00:44

        @capra – I’ve been *looking* for the laugh in all this and if you find it, point it out, willya?! πŸ™‚ Funny you mention sinkhole. That was Tacoma, literally and figuratively. Evidently it, unwelcomed passenger, hitched a ride-along when I wasn’t looking. Damn!!! And I’d been soooooo good about whittling down to the essentials! πŸ™‚

        Reply

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