Being theoretically homeless absolutely sucks. In the past month of being in (albeit) lovely vacation rentals, staying with family in CT, and the bouncing around Manhattan with meeting-after-meeting… I think I’m either going to force myself into consensual Guinnuss-inspired alcoholism, or just take something sight-unseen in Los Angeles in about 48 hours.

Physically, I also look like I’ve been fermenting in a vat of skim milk for a good month. My someone-slept-with-a-Cherokee-at-some-point, hereditary “olive/tan” thing has vacated my skin. I moved to LA to escape the winter. What am I doing BACK in it?!

However… I may have just found something perfect. A gorgeous (or so it sounds via Craigslist description) penthouse in Marina Del Ray. Overlooking the harbor. Has a gym (I can finally have an activity to temper the OCD… running on a treadmill!). Really affordable price.

Damn needing to move the weekend you have to pay a #*!@-load of money to a bunch of dudes in India. However, my next (and biggest) webdesign project is just about done… which, if I promote the thing right, should let me finally get rid of the perpetually blowing up Saab in a month or so.

It’s either that, or taking this classy, obviously business-minded Ivy-grad up on her offer.

… joke, by the way.

God, I love Craiglist.

__________

$1250 BBW GODDESS looking for Live IN slave for Room Immediately (Marina del rey)

I am a BBW DOMINA and need a live in slave for my 2 bedroom apartment on the West Side. The place is very nice, has pool, jucuzzi, fitness center and has alot to offer. I want a TRUE SUBMISSIVE who will serve me and put me first in every way. I want someone who will cover at least their portion of the rent which is 1250 and you will have your own room and bahthroom or if you prefer you can live in the Little Den Area Like a little Doggie. LOL

I have very strong energy and I need someone who will offer me positive energy and is one hundred percent Aligned with me so i am going to be picky and have interviews for this. The apartment is very nice and has laundry machine and dryer and has a nice view from balcony.

If seriously interested let me know why you want this type of situation. I would expect you to do my cook, clean, serve me, do my nails and basically do everything to make me happy including taking as many of the expenses as you are able.

I have very strong energy and the slave that gets to live with me will truly apprecaite the experience. I am spiritual by the way so if you are spiritual slave please contact me as that is what I am looking for. I AM A TRUE SPIRITUAL GODDESSS and want the most perfect slave to join me here.

BY the way I do dominate other men on phone and in person so if you were living with me you would have to be accepting of that and very out of the way when I needed you to be which means you can be in the house but not interfere with my session work. This position is not for everyone but if you feel inclined send me a message if you are serious about this and I will get back to you. YOU MUST TRULY LOVE AND WORSHIP GODDESS ENERGY FOR THIS TO WORK AND BE TOTALLY DEVOTED TO ME MIND BODY SOUL AND SPIRIT. ID YOU FEEL YOU ARE THE ONE GET BACK TO ME NOW…….

©2012 AshleyFlys.com - tales of travel, torrid affairs, and a hatred for DELTA. All Rights Reserved.

The Boyfriend and I are in the process of attempting to find a new spot somewhere in Los Angeles… preferably a gigantic live/work loft we can turn into a fine art gallery ON the ocean…  our sights are as full as our gigantic wine glasses.

March 3rd, 11:45pm, Mid-Wine: I’m sitting on a windowsill, sipping Pinot (as per usual), and find this gorgeous industrial loft downtown in a rather famous building. It’s for sale. I decide to take a cordial shot in the dark.  I decide to email the broker with a proposal.

“Hello there, Bob*,” I type, eyeballs widening with fear at the gigantic snowflakes catapulting themselves around outside my window, “Just saw the lovely loft you represent… random, so please excuse — but would the owners be at all interested in doing a rental arrangement while it’s on the market?”

Keep in mind — as beautiful as this loft is — it’s not exactly a penthouse, either. Whomever is selling is not doing it because they “don’t need the money”.

I send the email, continue sipping my fermented grapes, and staring at the monster snowfall occurring in central Connecticut.

Ping!

I hate the sound of the iPhone email. However, I had one. From Bob, the ‘Upscale Power Broker’.

“We DO NOT DO short term rentals,” screamed the email in capitals, “NO ONE ELSE in Downtown does either. BOB.”

Well $*@! you, I grumble, mentally banishing him from my real estate search.

I have a bit of a problem, though. I have a hard time letting assholes like this — and their idiotic  ’self proclaimed’ (read: fabricated) brokerage credits — go:

I had to. And I thought that’d be the end of it.  Bob would realize he should — from this point forward — talk to clients with a Santa-inspired benevolence, understand further he’s also a client-mutilating dumbass — we’re obviously looking for exactly what he proclaims to be his speciality – and either apologize or go sit in the pool of sorrow that is his single, shitty studio apartment in East LA.

Bob replies:

Dumbass. Really? You’re in the people business and you’re REALLY risking pissing someone off — for absolutely no reason — to get in the “last word”?

Perhaps it was the wine — or the fact that I’m just EXTREMELY confrontational when it comes to dealing with idiots — OR the fact that I was the highest grossing agent at Corcoran/Citi-Habitats when I was in real estate, and I HATE pompous real estate agents like this in general:

Then this mole of a human being goes and Googles me. He unearths my Backstage blog from ’07-’08.

Wow. I’m just absolutely amazed that a grown man — who doesn’t sound like a young kid, from my perspective [he sounds like a crotchety late 40-something that tried to be an actor, got a shitty job paying minimum wage in the William Morris mailroom instead (if that's not a delusion of his warped noggin, too), and got fired because he didn't have the intelligence or people skills to survive in the entertainment industry --] would further an email fight.

My final email, before blocking the guy — considering it’s now Thursday morning, I’m happily sipping on coffee, and I’m realizing what a ridiculous vat of shit this has gotten stirred into:

And… close the book on Psychotic Not-So-Powerful-’Power-Broker’-Bob. I won’t throw in his first last name, because I’m kind of afraid he’ll do more Googling, find this, and come stab me in my sleep.

At this point, I’m seriously considering whether I should move back to Los Angeles.  There’s too many people out of their f-ing minds.

Perhaps I’ll move to Alaska and build an igloo. Might have trouble with the coffee, though…

– Ashley

©2012 AshleyFlys.com - tales of travel, torrid affairs, and a hatred for DELTA. All Rights Reserved.