So, it turns out- (says the nice lady, whose cute lil condo is up for rent)- that I have to pass muster with a Condo Association. Her words exactly? "Hi Coffey, this is Condo Owner. I'm just calling to touch base with you about the apartment. The contractor is coming and the flooring and everything else should be finished by Monday."

"Sounds great!" I said.

"You just need to get approved by the condo association. They will do a background check and then I will call you and let you know for certain!"

Suddenly I got a horrible case of bubble guts.

"Oh, okay. Thanks for calling. Talk to you soon"

I chimed in, optimism holding on for dear life... or at least until the end of the phone call. You know that scratched/broke record sound effect one hears when "Fer sure!" turns to "Maybe?" Yes. That's the sound I heard in my head. Background check? While I have no criminal history to speak of, one never knows what a background check will produce. It's always nerve-wracking to have strangers poking around in your history. Things can be misconstrued! They can pass judgment over a simple misunderstanding! My neuroses knows no bounds. I am a worrier. I tend to think the worse. I understand that certain communities want to make sure they aren't residing in close quarters with pieces of trash. Either way, I feel so close yet sooo far away suddenly from my goal suddenly. Getting close and then having the rug yanked as I approach my destination, seems par for the course with me, sometimes. I'm hopeful. I. am. hopeful. Next week will dictate yay or nay.

On a completely random note, I received and obscene call at work Thursday. The appetizer to the main course, yes. The man's voice was rich. It was deep. It was Barry White sexy in its PROFESSIONAL and inquiring tone. As the conversation went downhill, however, that voice suddenly became lecherous. Skeevy in its interrogation...

"Hi, I'm looking for information on Such and Such Organization. Do you know anything about that?"

"Hm." I replied thoughtfully, "I'm not sure I have that info on hand. Let me ask around for you. You mind holding for one quick second?"

"Not at all, with your PLEASANT sounding self." his deep voice oozed. "You sound sooo nice and pllleasant." he breathed.

"Thanks. Anyway, give me a second." I said, taken aback but still trying to maintain some semblance of professionalism.

Needless to say, no one had the answers I sought for this voice over the phone.

"I'm sorry, but I don't have information on the Such and Such Organization. We don't really work directly with them. And the person who MAY be able to help you is currently in a meeting."

I considered offering him some other alternatives. But then...

"Mmmmm" he moaned. "So you don't have a phone number I could reach them at...?"

"No, I don't. Sorry." I said, growing a little impatient (I had to use the restroom) and wanting to end the call, for I sensed it was about to take a strange turn... right smack dab in a gutter littered with used condoms, smashed ciggie butts, and a pair of dirty, ripped panties. Hmmm... are those undulating bodies I see pressed up against the brick wall??

"hmmm, mmm..."

he moaned some more.

"... Okay... ummm, can I ask you a question... oh my god..."

he moaned in that deep voice... "

"Do you LOOK as good as you sound?"

Suddenly I got a visual of this man, shut in his office, sitting behind a desk grimacing and leaning back in his chair... slowly unzipping his trousers... A co-worker appeared at my desk, and noticed the alarm on my face...

"Um, anyway, so yeah. bye!"

I said and hung up abruptly. I relayed the strange call to her and she let out a raucous laugh.

"You know you enjoyed it!" she teased.

"Um, perhaps I would have in the privacy of my own home. But not at my JOB!"

I shot back. ... Ironically enough, I watched Girl 6 last night. So in any event, my fingers are crossed and hopefully I will enjoy an obscene phone call or two, in the privacy of my new apartment? Perhaps the call and then last night's movie are positive signs?

Okay I'm reaching. ...