The vagaries of life here at the fed: The laundry room is scary, 'cause some of the old coots like to corner you and beat you down about your stance on the condo conversion, yet, there is a lady who gets ballroom dance lessons in the rec room and patio (The patio I imagine, because they can't contain their quick-step) The young man teaching her makes her float. It's lovely. Our refrigerator is one frozen tamale short of breaking down completely, the bathtub is a scabby mess, and we are CRAMMED into this studio, Yet I can walk to my current gig at The All American Melodrama and there is a party/art walk every Saturday night just one door down. The exterior is painted primer grey, but when it rains we have a superb view of the San Bernadino mountains. Sigh.
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