Then again....

And then again, it would be disingenuous for me to suggest that I was not, at least at some level, happier in New York than I have been here. The truth is, I prefer living in neighborhoods that aren't trendy or fun. There aren't drunk douchebags yelling under your window on Friday nights.

The problem is that it's hard to find neighborhoods that are architecturally beautiful and walkable without all the trendy stuff.

Last weekend in Ohio City

This is our last weekend in Ohio City. Next week we'll depart forever to our estate down the shore.

It's very sad.

In many ways living in Ohio City has been the New York experience we didn't have. In New York we lived in a shrugworthy Queens neighborhood that would never in a million years become trendy. We lived there because it was cheap, and by cheap I mean we paid $1,100 a month for a 1-bedroom apartment with walls so thin you could hear your neighbors farting. The neighborhood was made up of identical 6-story apartment blocks that resembled what I imagine Soviet Uzbekistan looked like, minus the charm. We had no even remotely appealing restaurants within easy walking distance, and shopping in our "grocery store" was a treat only if you enjoyed wilted lettuce plastered to a styrofoam tray with 20 layers of shrinkwrap.

Rats frolicked in the open air.

In Ohio City, we paid less than $800 a month for a nice (read: quiet) apartment where there was lots of stuff within walking distance. We went out to eat a lot. We met people for drinks a lot. We could literally shuffle off to the grocery store and be back in 5 minutes. Ohio City is full of lovely brick alleys, wrought-iron fences, and cottage gardens. I have never seen a rat.

My point is that a lot of what young people move away to find is actually right here.

This weekend I'm going to enjoy it to the fullest.

Cleveland in 2047

One of the things I like best about my job is that often I'll stumble across old news articles about how Cleveland's renaissance is "right around the corner." (The oldest one I've seen is from the 1940s. What were they longing for then, the old canal days?)

Yesterday I found one from 1971. Without telling you anything about what it said, I'll posit this question: what do you expect Cleveland to look like in 38 years?

Discuss.

Today is my birthday

I am 31 today. Here is a list of things I would expect at my ideal birthday party:

• Personal appearance by Judge Judy
• The SuperHost polka band that played at the CLE- exhibit at Asterisk last year
  
• Bobbing for pierogies (they'd be floating in beer)
• Cleveland's a Plum cake
• A velvet Frank Jackson to hang above my mantelpiece
  
• Private performance by the Dorothy Fuldheim impersonator

But I'll take what I can get, which will probably just be a trip to Arby's.

Things my house has taught me

1. Wires come from all directions and originate in mysterious locations that can't be mapped by human hands.

2. Thinning your seedlings = killing some of them. (I felt like such a terrible parent.)

3. They don't make floorboards anymore like they did in 1910.

Points re: Hastily Made Tourism Video and Regina Brett

I won't recap for you because you can listen to it yourself online, but this morning on The Sound of Ideas, Regina Brett (aka the PD columnist who makes me feel like I'm 14 and being scolded by my mom) asked us to join her, Mike Polk, Samantha Fryberger, and fellow columnist Mike McIntyre with our "thoughts on Cleveland as America's pinata."

OK.

1. Cleveland is NOT America's pinata. That's Canada. Canada is America's pinata, and possibly even the northern hemisphere's pinata.

2. I'm amazed that there's anyone who doesn't yet understand that learning to laugh at yourself is like getting an express ticket to Enlightenment.

2a. These people have obviously never been to New Jersey.

3. I don't want people to know about how great Cleveland is because then annoying hipsters will move here in limp, effeminate droves.

4. I don't mean to sound parochial, but when people from the outer suburbs say they love living in Cleveland, I feel like tapping them on the shoulder and saying, "When you live in Long Island, you don't live in New York." It especially irks me when people say things like "Cleveland has great schools," or "Cleveland is a great place to raise a family" because what they really mean is "I'm glad there are suburban schools to send my kids to, while at the same time I can dress up in spangly clothes and hang out in the Warehouse District with my other yummy mommy friends a couple times a month."

Look, I like living in Cleveland because it's like living in the pages of The Onion. Or in a Twin Peaks where the folks are fatter and slightly more ethnic-looking. This place - like life - is full of hilarious, wretched absurdities, which makes it primo for creative types who are prone to dwelling on the darker side of human existence.

There's no Sex and the City here, believe me. Personally, I like it that way.

Why I'm Not Fun, And Why I Plan to Stay That Way

One of the reasons why I was able to buy a house while at the same time making virtually no money is because I'm not fun. I don't do stuff. What kind of stuff? You know, the things that people do. Going out. I'm not really even sure what going out is, and can only conclude that it must be some kind of fertility ritual.

Me, I prefer to do things that don't cost anything, because spending money makes me die inside. I'm not being melodramatic - seriously, if you try to wrest a $10 bill from my clammy old paws, I'll go all Travis the Chimp on you.

Here's a short list of things I might find fun on a Saturday night:

1. Watching The Cheese Nun.

2. Putting together giant floor puzzles of the Western Reserve.

3. Drinking gin alone in a dark corner.

4. Thinning the radish patch.

5. Putting stuff on my cat, like socks or old takeout menus.

Not being fun has served me awfully well in life, and if you are finding yourself strapped for cash, you might try it, too.

"Cobwebs" and "Shipwrecked"

...are two words recently used to describe my blog. Sorry for the dry spell, but buying a house has pretty much wiped me out. I want to especially apologize to any readers who have asked me specific questions about Cleveland or Edgewater or whatever and received no answer from me. I should have a 1-800 number to call about these things, but who am I kidding, I'd probably ignore that too.

Here are the top five things I've learned from the house experience so far.

1. There will always be some kind of egregious error in your paperwork, so go through it with a fine toothed comb and a hefty dose of suspicion.

2. If you like old houses, don't buy an old house that's been re-fitted with a bunch of cheap IKEA fixtures, unless you like cheap IKEA fixtures. You will spend a lot of money replacing these things.

3. Paint is expensive. Fuck, everything is expensive. I hate Home Depot.

4. Don't sneeze while holding an open packet of heliotrope seeds because those suckers are tiny and once you've spilled them everywhere you will never find them again. Well, not until they start growing out of the cracks in your driveway.

5. When you're not around, the house is laughing at you.

Stay tuned for more sporadically updated house stories. But don't expect anything, you know, DIY, because I spent two nights priming my entire kitchen with a 2-inch brush. Apparently we believe in doing things in the most inefficient manner possible.