Saturday, July 4, 2009

How to Live as a Pseudo-Renter: part 1

Of late I've been living a life of which can only be surmised as "pseudo-renter".
It's a status that has left me stumped in conversations when asked about my living arrangements, and has slowly but surely turned me into the girl lugging three Green bags worth of shit through Rundle Mall trying to send a text message.

Example; "Miranda, want to go get Raj on Taj?" "Why yes, yes I do. In fact, I live just around the cor.. well, I don't actually
live there, but I kind of do, but I'm sleeping there and paying a bit of rent, but not much.. but I still live at home, and..." And so on.


1 bedroom in expensive Burnside, mortgage-free, parental house to hold all 'yer loot
1 partner living out of home (male/female variety)
3-5 Green bags (Woolworthes pref, as most durable and w. longer straps) to carry all your shit
1 job in the hospitality industry, for free Turkish Bread to take home to your hungry housemates
A thirst for washing the dishes
1 laptop (or, alternatively, use partner's while out of house.)
5 multitrips
1 iPod
30+ pairs underwear

So you've got yourself set for the "move". This is how it works. You and your new interest have started sleepovers. You're staying there a little bit more each week, until you're in full bore housemate mode. You're part of the furniture. Another shadow on the wall. Another hair in the plug hole. That is until the other housemates start to notice. Namely, the food shelf is looking a bit sad with an extra stomach to feed.

So, what do we do? Simple. (This is where ingredient #4 comes exceptionally handy) Make sure you get the closing shifts at your cafe job and, taking one of your Woolworth's green bags, load those babies up with all kinds of bready delights at the end of the day.

Take this Pavlova, for example. Looks expensive, right?


This pavlova was created entirely from donated egg whites from work and old sugar found in a jar. A perfect example of how a combination of poverty and a cafe job can really whip up (ho ho!) a storm. Once everyone in the house is nourished, it makes for merry times.

And there you have phase 1 of seguing into an out-of-homer's life. You just gotta ease the move sloooowly, like a water birth. Or like putting honey in your tea. Or something.

Living with new Gen Y tenants Is going to make you VERY VERY DRUNK ALL THE TIME YES ALL THE TIME DRUNK ALL THE TIME. Prepare your livers, cadets.

**This is a most crucial ingredient. Without the element of a relationship in there, your pseudo-rental proposition to housemates might not go down so well. A new squeeze to have your back is preferable, as they will be most supportive of you being in their bed most of the time. 'Knah what I'm saying.

1 comment:

G said...

Oh my. Titty squeeze?
That woman looks like a horse. x