Latest, not so Greatest:

Posted September 22, 2014 @ 3:25am | by S. Cutshall

As I delve(d) into gaining a deeper understanding of my ankles, toes, thumb and blown rotator cuff, and as filming began on a documentary short on me & my life (undertaken after a local Master's Degree candidate contacted me to bounce the idea of doing it off me--I reluctantly agreed, and while it's painful it is, truthfully spoken, far less painful than first imagined), I fractured my 2nd toe (or whatever the toe next to your big toe is called) on my right foot.

Jesus fucking christ, can I possibly catch even a minor break lately?

And then last (as in this past, two days ago) Friday came...

 

...and ankles, toes--arthritic or fractured or otherwise be damned, thumb and shoulder, even light-headedness took a very sudden and thorough back seat to what was about to happen...

 

Started innocently enough--a voicemail from our landlord with a plain jane request to give her a call, but just when I had convinced myself that it was going to be some asinine banality to, "please rake your leaves" or "water the yard... the neighbors have commented on how the yard used to look more tidy" time stood still when she politely said, "Hey Scott, are you sitting down?" and then in one fell swoop told me that we, me and The Gurlz, have to be out by November 15th* so her daughter can move in to avoid a long drive to her Freshmen year classes at Portland State University beginning in January.

Then furthering that shitty news. after looking around Craigslist and Zillow in a fear stupor of racing heart and teary eyes, me at home and Amy at work, we both, almost nearly on perfect cue, realized...

First, they just kicked us out, and in the 6 years we've been here, and along with the influx boom of Californians & transplants from Hipsterville, USA, now they've priced us out.

We can't afford to live here (unless we live so far outside Portland that Amy will spend the better part of her day in our car commuting to work while Chloe & me learn to ride our bikes on highways among hordes of automobiles while en route to a Trader Joe's that's only a mere 45 miles away to run errands).  The only comparable houses we have found for rent, even remotely close to the city, are all 400 to 700 dollars above our current rental (and personal budget).  What the fuck happened here?  Amy makes no more bread than she did 6 years ago, when we first arrived from Minnesota, yet in our little time vacuum rent went that sky high?

We have to leave.

What's next... I haven't a clue but I must say this: on the eve of my 51st birthday, being 50 has most definitely NOT be overly good to me.

 

*She actually explained that she could request us to vacate in 30 days but "because you guys are just so great we are going to give you almost 60 days!!"... I've since found out that either she is very uninformed or just plain full of shit as Oregon law requires a landlord to give a tenant 60 days to vacate after that tenant has resided in the residence longer than 12 months (we've been here one month shy of 6 years).  Furthermore, we suspect strongly that her kid isn't moving in at all--instead it's all a nice ploy to get us out so they can take advantage of Portland's insane thirst for providing overpriced rentals during this current boom that's swept the city (a 2% vacancy rate among rental units last I checked) and jack the shit out of the rental rate on this place.

 
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