Ninja Report

Rent in Los Angles is not cheap. Being a law student, I have no monies. No monies + $$$ LA rent = mooching off the fam. Last year I was lucky enough to live with my aunt, uncle and cousins. [I swear I am my aunt's child and that I was mixed up at birth- we are like twins!] They have an amazing house in West Hills, complete with a pool, huge backyard and amazing views of downtown LA. I even had my own room and bathroom. Now that I live alone, I realize I took many things for granted. Let me explain:

Exhibit A: 

I present le shelf a la dish drying…. I should have posted a picture of myself, as I am the dishwasher (and dryer), but that seemed a little vain (and mama had a late night- dark circles anyone?) Living with my aunt, I always “did” my dishes.

Did: See rinsed off and placed in the dishwasher; See also general laziness.

Now I actually have to rinse the dishes- with hot water- and scrub them- with a brush- to make them clean – with soap. AND if there is no room on the drying rack…well, you get the point. Thankfully this routine has become daily as I really can't handle dirty dishes in the sink.

Can’t handle: See boyfriend told me he can't stand dishes in the sink; See also damnit.

(EDITORS NOTE: as I am in law school, many of my posts will be fraught with legal-ish citations and funny law jokes. Please excuse.)

So the dish thing I can handle. However, there is one thing that I seriously took for granted, and would give anything (except my sparkly Toms) to have back.

Exhibit B:

I have a love hate relationship with this piece of equipment. Actually, this particular washing machine is ‘aaight as it is still here. The former washing machine… not so much. Where is it you ask? I HAVE NO CLUE. Let me start from the beginning…

My apartment has one washer and one dryer in a separate room at the back of my unit. When I moved in I never received a key. A few weeks later, and a few hundred “I need underwear but I don’t have a washing machine so I have to go to Target” runs later, I had to investigate. My neighbor Mark told me that I had the key. 

Mark: See has lived in the building for twenty five years; See also fifteen of those were in my actual apartment....

Anyway, Marky-Mark said I had the key. I present to you:

Exhibit C:

Yes, this is the key. So- when we want to do laundry, we use the knife to MacGyver our way in. Awesome. (If you knew how much I paid for rent you would be astonished! Astonished at the fact that I don't have a laundry room key... ok, ok, astonished at how much I pay in rent. I blame L.A.) Anyway, the washing machine was in use, so I decided to go back the next day. Cut to the next afternoon- I walk to the back of the unit, equipped with my fancy key and…the machine is gone. GONE. For repairs? YEAH RIGHT- (‘dem property managers be laaaaaaazy). Conclusion: someone stole the washing machine. Let me repeat: 

SOMEONE. STOLE. THE. WASHING. MACHINE.

STOLE. How in the HELL does one steal a washing machine? Even more confusing is how the HELL I didn’t hear it?!  My apartment shares an entire wall with the laundry room. (this does not bode well for my future safety…)Thankfully, two days later the machine was replaced. I called to figure out what happened- they had no clue. I asked Mark- he suggested Ninja’s, or possibly a homeless person. As I really don’t think a washing machine can fit in a shopping cart, I am going with the former.

Happy Sudding!