I hate to keep harping on the whole housing in Albuquerque subject, but folks . . . ! It ain’t easy findin’ good digs in The Burque, yo!

I’ve finally settled into this awesome condo, but it too has it’s definite down side. It’s VERY expensive for ABQ. It’s exactly 35.29% more expensive than my bungalow rent in Venice Beach, California, just six blocks from the water and in one of the most expensive neighborhoods in all of Los Angeles. This sleek, newly constructed place in ABQ is architectural dreaminess with it’s sexy concrete floors and tall ceilings of openness and light, be sure. But this is Albuquerque. No offense to ABQ, but my pad in Venice Beach is sweeter.

The ad said it was furnished. It’s Ikea. Does that count? I’m not sure.

The neighborhood of Nob Hill rocks. I like that, but even though it’s a cool ‘hood and all with a co-op and great coffee shops, there is still a noticeable tweeker contingency. That, and well on Saturday night there was a guy on the street with a high powered telescope, herding everyone who was walking by to take a look at Saturn in the sky. That was fuckin’ cool. It felt very Burning Man like. But also on Saturday night there was some wierd murder down the street. Both incidents are kinda like my ‘hood in Venice . . . in California . . . near the beach. Where I pay 35.29% less. . .

So, why didn’t I go for something less expensive in a dull neighborhood? Well, here in Albuquerque, it’s either some squat, cold adobe in a really scary and especially drab part of town . . . or this trendy part of town, that’s still kinda wierd and rough, which I like . . . sort of. I live in a rough neighborhood in Venice, which I love and feel mostly comfortable in. I’m here to report that so many more white girl alarms trip inside my head in Albuquerque than they ever do in my gun-toting cracked-out Venice ‘hood. Those freak-o’s understand me. Here I’m on guard.

There is no in-between kind of neighborhood here, not unless you want to rent an unfurnished four-bedroom soul-less house out in the vast Intel sub-divisions of Rio Rancho. No, Thank-o.

So, basically - as I throw my hand against my forehead dramatically - I have to live in the lap of luxury. Except, with Ikea furniture. And a sub-standard model TV. Shocking as I proudly have not lived in a televisioned home for about seven years now. I’m going high-tech. More on this later. The TV needs serious updating. Oh, and apparently ‘furnished’ also means you get four sets of silverware, again Ikea, but no cutting board or kitchen knife. I’m a grown-up. I cook. The agent who furnished this place is probably all of 23. I know, I’ve met him. I don’t think he cooks.

Ahh, luxury . . . sort of. Except come on - thirty-five point two nine percent.

Venice. ABQ.

And hey, in Venice, utilities are included.

I have so much to be thankful for on this Good Friday. All signs point to great things. Today I hit my “Re-Set” button.

First of all, today is the Vernal (or spring) Equinox. In some religions and cultures the Vernal Equinox is the new year. I’d like to think that this is my new year. Today is the full moon. Big energy in the full moon coupled with the Equinox and the shift in season to spring and growth also make this a great day.

But today is the day that my life is coming together, congealing and coalescing here in The Burque. By the end of today, I will no longer be homeless or car-less. By the end of today I will be living in a sweet fucking condo in a hip part of Albuquerque with a rockin’ roommate and my cat. I have not been this excited about a place since I found my bungalow in Venice. I pick up my car in one hour, pack my stuff and move in today.

Ahh, and I have today off, so I can move in properly - slowly - relishing the opportunity to truly settle, something I’ve not done in months.

Ahh, it’s been lovely. It’s been strange. It’s been fun . . . I have some interesting neighbors here at the hotel.

On the other side of a brick wall and alleyway, are some older homes, most of them with junk sitting in the back yards. One morning during a pink and orange sunrise, an old lady dressed like some kind of sherpa with a turban on her head puttered around outside in the cold, hopped on an abandoned, dilapidated exercise bike in her back yard and squeaked out a slow five minute ride.

We’ve got agent Barney Fife as security officer. He always stands in the same spot all night long in the hotel parking lot, his thumbs hooked inside his belt loops.

Across the street is some super secret, massively gated government facility with video cameras everywhere and signs literally every three feet proclaiming in no uncertain terms that no one should try to sneak inside.

Then there are those wierd rapper kids next door who like to slam doors. I’ve never seen them, but let’s just say, we’ve heard one another.

But today . . . today is a great day. Today is my last day living the hotel dream (at least for awhile.)

The phone rang at 7:30 AM.

“Uh, hello, Anna,” said the extreme country accent. “This is Bones. I’ll be there in ’bout 15 minutes.”

“Huh?” I muttered, half-asleep. “But you’re not supposed to be here til 8:00-ish!”

“Mah ETA is 7:43, ma’am.” And then the AAA tow driver hung up.

I heard Bones arrive. It wasn’t necessary that he call to announce himself. I could hear his radio blaring some kind of whiny country music throughout the entire hotel parking lot. Bones of Bones Towing was a young man in his early 20’s. His country accent was so thick, I noticed, because he barely moved his mouth when he spoke.

I explained that I didn’t necessarily need a tow, but he couldn’t find his jumper cables, which I thought was sort of odd. He proceeded to try to help me pop the clutch of my car by pushing it across the fairly level hotel parking lot instead of down the hill, which was not only completely ineffective, but also another oddity.

Then I hopped into the Bones Tow Truck and we were off. I’d given the address to AAA the night before, but I knew roughly where we were headed. And when he took a left to go toward downtown Albuquerque instead of a right to go toward the Firestone service station, again, I thought it was a bit odd. “Hey, man, it’s down the other way,” I said.

“Naw,” he replied. “I punched the address here in my GPS, we’re on the way.”

I decided to let it go. I’d get there eventually.

Albuquerque’s morning sky line is filled with hot air balloons. I’ve been wondering why, but haven’t had the chance to ask a local. “Hey, Bones, why all the hot air balloons in Albuquerque in the mornings? What’s that tradition all about?”

“I don’t know. I’m a tow truck driver, not a balloon driver.”

He drove quietly for a few moments, then out of nowhere, flipped a bitch in a church parking lot, exclaiming “Mah GPS fucked me over!,” and headed in the direction I wanted to go.

UPDATE: Here’s my driver and his GPS!

My long week has been interesting for sure. I don’t mind being ‘homeless’ as the Extended Stay America has truly been a comfortable home on the road. I’ve been a bit anxious, but not freaked out or in a bad mood about the whole thing. It’s actually been alot of fun to live in this way. But things have been compounding . . .

On Monday morning, bright and early, my car battery died. That was the same day my camera battery died and the weekend my phone took a dive. With my long work hours, it’s taken all week to get my car fixed. In fact, I still don’t have it back. Again, I’ve not really been too upset by the whole thing so much as I get a kick out of saying, “I’m homeless and carless in Albuquerque, living in an Extended Stay America with my cat.”

I’m settled in my hotel room finally, with christmas lights, candles and swatches of colorful fabric everywhere. I just know that when I’m gone during the day that the maids have tours come through my room . . . it looks that good.

Travel well tip - In a hotel room, drop the jizz blanket (you know, those nasty bedspreads that NEVER get washed) to the floor. Replace it immediately with an awesome blanket of your own. Notice the change in blankets from a week ago.

Yes, I had a picture taken of me at work as Wonder Woman. No, that’s not the one posted on this site. I signed a gnarly Non-Disclosure agreement. I’m in Albuquerque . . . on a secret mission.

After I loaded up my bedroom while trying to dodge the roommates’ housewarming party, I next had to venture out into the party itself, into the kitchen area to gather up the $140.00 worth of groceries that I’d purchased the prior weekend. I wasn’t fucking around when I’d moved in - I was truly ready to be settled, and I wasn’t about to leave without my food!

I dodged a kitchen full of people who were in various stages of food prep. I grabbed paper bags and began chucking pantry items in . . . really important things . . . like yerba mate, pasta . . . two open containers of whiskey . . . I did leave the moldy bread behind . . . Then I went for the fridge, handing out beers to their guests as I threw my frozen broccoli, aloe vera juice and other cold items into another sack. Dammit, they ate some of my ice cream!

Ahh, I was really running now, literally, trying to get out the front door with two heavy sacks when - blammo! - one sack ripped and pesto and eggs hit the floor right by the front door.

“Oh mother-fucker!” I screamed. No one seemed to notice the dramatic outburst, so I figured no one would notice when I went and got one of the big slobbery dogs to come and lick the cracked egg and pesto splatters up off the floor. No one did. And then, with no further ado, I grabbed Frank, put my key on the bedroom table and walked out the back door, never to be seen again.

Last year, I lived in various hotels for about four months out of the year, and I’ve learned a few things about soulful hotel living.

I don’t carry much with me when I’m in hotel mode, but here are a few things that I never leave home without.

1.     Lights - Christmas lights save me every time! I hate flourescent hotel lighting, so I simply string up some warm lights and - voila! - instant feel-good vibes for my temporary home. Basically, ‘home’ is where the christmas lights are. And candles are a good atmospheric touch - sexy and they smell good too!

2.     Fabric - Swaths of fabric or sarongs or saris are good to cover up anything that is ugly - from window treatments to hotel bedspreads and the like. (Sometimes I toss a cover on the TV, too.)

3.     Personal “luxury” items. Being on the road can be emotionally draining, so it’s nice to have some small things in my suitcase that are conducive to the ‘at-home’ vibe. Some of my own personal luxury items include a very well-made foam memory pillow,  a spoon that’s travelled with me for about 10,000 miles now and an antique porcelain cup for my toothbrush. These small things make me feel settled even when all of my clothing is crammed into a suitcase in the corner!

 Also pictured is a folding papasan chair I brought along for my cat originally, but since it’s pretty and it folds nicely, I think it will be added as a staple to my hotel life package. It’s so much more chill than the chairs provided!

Who lives in a hotel.

With her cat.

In Albuquerque.

We love it.