After 3 Airbnb stays, including two stays with friends, I had enough. Maybe the eccentric millionaire thinks living permanently in Airbnb apartments is fun. I do not. It is one thing to be on vacation, it is another thing to be separated from your things, your dog, and your cat. I made the decision that it was better to live in a construction zone, than to rent, yet another Airbnb apartment.
The first of the month I moved into my new place. The floors were cement, nothing was painted, the kitchen has all but disappeared. I have a refrigerator and a microwave. My bathroom has a tile floor, a shower, and a toilet. The walls have to be plastered and painted. There is dust and grime everywhere. (Mugre in Spanish.)
I laugh when I think of my friends David and Everett who are general contractors in the US. David would tell me how their goal was to leave their jobs, white glove clean. Here in Argentina, I think the goal is to leave it black as the ace of spades. The more filth the merrier. Tape off rooms when you are sawing? No way. Let the dust blow. Chipping off the tile in the bathroom? No problem, let it fall in the tub. You need to mix cement? Just do it on the floor, after all there is going to be a new one. I learned to just hold my breath and not say anything. This is just the way it is, and at least my crew is doing everything correctly and timely. Something unheard of here. My friends are in awe that I am not using an architect. (Architects are the general contractors here.)
The day I moved some of my stuff from my storage unit, I sent my friend Sam a message. I told him that I was coming for JerryBrown that night. (AKA Brown, or Mr. Brown, this is my cat, not the other Jerry Brown. The Governor. His namesake. My little Jerrybrown Novitz) My JerryBrown travels in a mesh shopping bag. He loves it. I grabbed it and went to get him.
Brown lived with Sam for almost 3 months. The first time I went to visit him, he was happy to see me. He thought that he was going to go home. I had to leave him there. The next time I went to visit he was visibly angry with me. This went on until he decided to just ignore me. He figured he had a new home. I was the "mom in the past who abandoned him." You have to know how guilty he made me feel.
The second I walked into Sam's, it was like he knew. He came running up to me and rubbed against me. (JerryBrown, not Sam.) I sat down, and he jumped onto my lap, purring. I asked Sam if Jerry had been logging into Facebook. It was like he knew. He was going home. I packed all his stuff together and he jumped into my shopping bag. Brown always travels by shopping bag. It is his preferred method of traveling.
He was amazing. He stayed inside the bag and didn't move until we got home. Taxis charge more for transporting an animal. It was dark in the taxi and the driver didn't notice him. Brown camouflaged.
Brown never fails to astound me. People always say that cats do not adapt. They don't like to be moved. Brown takes it all in stride. When we got to the apartment, I opened the door and let him in. He walked in as if he owned the place. Well he does, kind of. He went upstairs. He went into the bedroom and sniffed the bed. I carried him to the terrace so he could look around. (It took him a few days to deal with the circular staircase.) He looked at like me as though I finally found us the perfect home.
He did not stop purring for a week. He was Mr. Lovey Dovey Brown. Who says "Cats don't have owners, they just have servants?" I do not agree. Brown missed me, and I missed him. He hasn't forgotten any of his stupid cat tricks, like biting me, or sticking his paw in my nose, or his mean left hook, when he wants attention. He sleeps next to me every night. The most faithful man in my life.
Little by little things are happening. I got the floors installed on the second floor which is where I have the bedroom and my study. They look great. My walls are still a mess. The sink was installed in the bathroom, which is another story. Viveza Criolla. The floor for the bottom floor is waiting to be installed. The kitchen cabinets and several doors are being custom made. Maybe if I am lucky, I will have a kitchen by my birthday. I miss baking.
I am able to start writing again, because I actually have a desk and chair that isn't killing my neck and back. I had almost 5 months of bad places to sit and use my computer at. You have no idea..or maybe you do. I am so happy that I can start to write again, and most likely, you are too.
Today I talked to Juan, Maxi's dog walker when we lived in Palermo. He wanted to know how we are all doing. I told him Maxi is still leashless in Banfield. (She is staying with my friend Marcelo.) She can't really come home until the stairs are painted. (I do not even want to think of her and wet stairs.) Marcelo loves having her, he is like the Dog Whisperer. An Argentine version.
I miss you Maxi Novitz. But you, along with the kitchen, will be here soon.