Porn for New Yorkers #1: Our New Apartment

I assumed if a state didn't have a "and this is where George Washington slept" anecdote that real estate would be shiny and sparkling. I thought California Native Americans carved their huts or tepees or whatever out of granite counter tops, stainless steel appliances and Toto toilets. Well apparently not. I sort of forgot that the Depression built Hollywood and since it hasn't rained here since 1929, crap sticks around. After spending two weeks looking at a lot of wall to wall dusty rose carpeting, shower doors with frosted swans, sinks shaped like sea shells, laundry rooms that should be equipped with rape whistles, fridge-less kitchens, or kitchens that look like they came off the set of Lassie - I found an apartment starting March 1! It's in the Angeleno Heights section of Echo Park, close to downtown. We totally got the recession special on a brand new, completely renovated, never lived in Spanish revival 2 bed, 2 bath, that sort of includes central air, washer/dryer, dishwasher, food disposal, french doors that lead to a courtyard, recessed lighting, hardwood floors. Okay, bragging done. Very excited! I don't know what to do with myself now - maybe I should get an audition or earn a dime somehow. Post script, 6/6/09: No our dishwasher isn't Smurf blue, it's a protective sticker.