Oh GOD. Finding a place to live is such a pain in the arse. I'm trying to weigh up what I will compromise on, and what I am just being a goddam princess about. Maybe it's the (Italian, very nice) wine talking, but I have decided that it is UNACCEPTABLE to pay an extra $20 a week in rent to live in fucking Kingsford with someone named TROY. Ugh. He sounds like quite a nice, normal person in his profile but with a name like that I find it hard to believe. The only names worse than Troy, in my opinion, are Randy and Dwayne.
Another profile seemed to offer potential early on: one of the people has a degree in Visual Arts and is doing further study in History and Environmental Biology (she sounds not only diverse, but very busy, which means she would be out a lot. An admirable quality in a flatmate I think). But on further reading, they seem to be a little airy fairy. They don't say "Capricorns need not apply" which is a good thing, but you have to read every nuance in these ads. I was a bit worried when reading what they want in a flatmate is someone who is "Emotionally healthy and honest". However, they also want this person to be "Respective of themselves". I think I'll leave them to their patchouli and bad grammar. Besides which, I don't think I am particularly emotionally healthy anyway.
And this one made me laugh out loud. It seems like a fairly average, cool place. The residents are all in their late 20s so have probably experienced a few freaky flatmate incidents. In the section where they describe their ideal flatmate, they have put: "Looking for an easy going young professionals who is normal." Ok, well, that is pretty clear.
Ok, I will admit that this next profile is one I clicked on only to find blog fodder. But it BREAKS MY HEART to see someone try so valiantly to describe Baulkham Hills as a great place to live. Here is my favourite 'selling point': "You can get to Wynard (sic) in 26-28 minutes at about 7am (with a seat)." No wonder the Pentacostal churches are so big out there: I don't know how else you would survive unless you knew that you were destined for a better life once you died.
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2 comments:
26-28 minutes on a train with a seat, but 17-19 minutes in the back of a police car (with a seat), after being arrested for a range of drug possession offences.
You should hire yourself out to write profiles for people - you sure know how to sell something.
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