Last week I saw what I can afford in a really nice neighborhood, on a tiny historical street in a groovy part of Long Beach.

For $399,000 the house was only 540 square feet. That’s it. The bedroom was even smaller than in my apartment now, a bed and a dresser would be a tight squeeze. The place was kinda cute and in ok condition. But nothing had been updated. Ugg. An old tile kitchen with no personality and a tiny crappy bathroom. But the neighbors were outside so I met them and loved them. With such small yards, you really would get to know each other.

And the whole lot was less than 3,000 square feet, which might be ok but there was a cement slab in back instead of grass.

And the roof needed to be re-done.

And the wood under the new paint job was a mess.

And since it’s historical, you can’t make changes without getting approved first. A “certificate of appropriateness” it’s called.

And I actually considered it for about an hour. My second realtor was really wanting me to say Yes, and I think he broke up with me after only a month because I didn’t buy it. Crazy huh.

I’m open to a one bedroom house if it gets me in a swell area…but there’s gotta be room for me and a bigger than purse-sized dog.

I’d been wanting to see these roller derby gals forever and I finally just did.

It was a blast. Fast paced and exciting, you couldn’t help but get all loud and crazy. In a big old warehouse in Silver Lake, Tecate in a can for 5$ is the refreshment of choice. Love that. No fancy pants allowed. These skater girls and everyone working are all volunteers, no one is doin it for the money. How great is that.

If you haven’t been, you’ve gotta check it out. The crowd was an endearing mix of older Nascar types and youngish cool kids. During intermission there’s a band, snacks and cool stuff to buy from skull-oriented vendors, cause a girl can never have too much spider jewelry. I can’t wait to go again and I’m not even sure of all the rules, but it was surprisingly official and shit. It made me wanna learn how to skate again and yell at some bitches to get outta my way.

There are LAPD crime maps you can check out, to see what’s happened in the past week or month in a specific area.

As I compare neighborhoods and house prices it all becomes clear, when it’s cheap there’s a reason. And it probably involved a bad man and a gun.

Guess I’ve had it made in Santa Monica all this time and I didn’t even realize it. I’ve accidentally left my key in the door when I come in, see it outside the next day and laugh. My raggedy screen door from 1927 never had a lock and I didn’t really think about it. Now as I home shop, not in SM, I actually say “but it’s only a couple of car thefts.” What I’m staying away from are the murders and home break-ins.

I don’t hate Facebook now as much as I did at first.

But one thing I still can’t stand….when people that you haven’t spoken to in years “friend” you with absolutely no message. I’m not Emily Post, but that’s just odd. I added a friend that I hadn’t spoken to since elementary school, noticed she was a friend of a girl I have kept in touch with. So of course, it’s been um, like 30 years so I include a brief Hello hope all is well, sort of thing. She must have clicked “Yes I will accept you but don’t expect any response or actual communicating.”

Then a girlfriend I liked a lot, but lost touch with 10 years ago looks me up and friends me out of the blue. I was happy but confused. No hello, no message, no nothing. After a few weeks I decide to email her Hey, good to hear from you, how’s it going. I get not even a response. So she looked me up, clicked “let’s be friends”. Only to never actually be in touch. No thanks.

Yes, people are weird. People I know. Of course it’s not like we’re friends or anything.

Saw this remodeled house in my price range today. I looked up the details to find the investor paid 200k for it 3 months ago. He did a semi-nice job and is now selling for 350k. I’m into buying something not this finished, but it is sorta appealing.

The realtor kept telling me how the investor/flipper/demon didn’t cut corners. But um, he did put in laminate instead of hardwood and left all the creepy popcorn ceilings. Then we get to the bathroom, his “signature” she proudly tells me.

After I politely vomit into my purse, she actually tells me “fixing this house up is his way of giving back.” Yeah right crazy lady! Not sure even she believed it.

I’ve only been seriously house hunting 3 months and I already wanna give up.

Or just buy the next place I see and get it over with. It reminds me of finding the place I live in now, every weekend started with high hopes, and by sunday afternoon I was sure I’d never find anything. It went on for months, your typical naivete meets LA tragic. It did work out well, oh except the man who rented me the place just died.

The photos of the houses look ok, not too hideous. Then I get there, to the street I can afford and it’s crack house hellish. Sort of like arriving on a blind date all hopeful, only to wonder “what did I ever do to her?” I’m usually not a giver-upper, but it is exhausting. From excited to ick, all in the same day. And no, I won’t think about a condo, so don’t even go there. But if you’re lucky I’ll invite you over to the dump, after I fix it up of course.

When I’m not stealing flowers from old lady’s, then trying to balance the karma out by delivering food to homebound seniors, I can be kinda crafty.

Here’s my plain wreath from Trader Joes that I decorated myself, cute huh.

My neighbor has the most gorgeous camellias in bloom right now. And how many flowers does one old lady need?

So I might have grabbed a few yesterday as I casually walked by for the third time. Don’t worry, I’m delivering Meals on Wheels for 4 days over my holiday break to settle the score. I know, I know it’s gonna take more than a few meals to undo a years worth of devilish behavior. But I’m willing to try.

Lately LA feels like a small town. In the good ways, not the scary-everyone-knows-your-hideous-personal-business ways.

My very first Christmas card was from the sweet woman who runs my dry cleaners. Then the lady at the library overlooked my $2 fine. My neighbor gave me a jar of homemade jam for bringing in her mail while she was out of town. The flower guy at the farmers market is happy to see me. Hey wait a minute, maybe people are just nicer around the holidays?

And just like out in the country, we have wildlife. A possum was on my porch eating my neighbors trash last night. So disgusting. And kinda hillbilly for Santa Monica.

Ok so LA is still just big and dirty. But easier to love at the holidays.