$900 HB writer looking for studio/one bedroom/guest house/garage (Huntington Beach, Newport Beach)
Once again I’m searching for a place to live. My aunt and uncle will be moving to their new house in La Quinta (near Palm Springs) at the end of June, and from then on I’ll be on my own in Huntington Beach.
The original plan was this: I'd rent the same room I’m renting now at my aunt’s house while she leased the other, small room. She wanted to leave the master bedroom empty so family could have a place to stay (aka, her and my uncle, who everyone knows will regret moving to the desert sooner or later). Last month she decided to rent out the master suite, then changed plans again and opted to rent the entire house around me. She began advertising on Craigslist (oh, wonderful Craigslist), and a lot of people have contacted her. However, none of them want to share the house.
So, to make it easier for her, I’ve decided to find my own place.
I hate apartment hunting. It’s heart breaking and difficult, but there’s usually a happy ending — usually. I’m certain I’ll find a place before I need to move out, but the prospect weighs on me; I feel the pressure every minute of the day until I know for sure I’ll have a place to call home.
When I moved to Santa Cruz, and was camping out above my cousin’s garage, hunting for a room to rent became a job. Every morning I scanned the new listings on CL, answering ads I found interesting and in my price range. During the day (since I wasn’t working at first) I drove around the city looking for “FOR RENT” signs and meeting people who had responded to my inquiries, taking a look at the rooms they were offering. If I was interested (and I always was) I had to put my name on a list. There were always ten or 20 names and phone numbers listed above mine. At about 5 pm I drove back to my cousin’s, checked my email, scheduled more meetings and viewings (if I was lucky enough to get a response), and combed CL again for any new posts.
It wore me out. I did it for an entire month. I was beginning to think something was wrong with me, that there was something everyone sensed to keep them from choosing me as a roommate. Even the gay French couple didn’t pick me. But, in early October, a nice woman sifted through the hundreds of responses she’d received about a room for rent in her old, west side house and singled out my email.
Ever since moving to Huntington Beach I’ve checked out the rental lists on CL. At first I did it because I was curious; I wanted to gauge the local rates and get an idea of what I could afford. But now I need to do it. So I’ve restarted the apartment hunting routine.
So far I’ve gotten a lot more responses than I did in Santa Cruz. Demand is high here, but the supply isn’t scarce (the housing situation in SC is a nightmare, which is why some people live in their VW Buses parked along West Cliff Drive). Yesterday I looked at a three bedroom townhouse two blocks from the PCH and the beach. It was incredible — everything I could ever want in a California residence. Two upstairs rooms had small patios with a view of the ocean. It was amazing, but the two guys who lived there weren’t. They were surfer-type junkies, guys who only cherish the extremes of life, and party like they never left college. The townhouse was a party pad passed down through “generations of West Covina dudes.” They didn’t smoke in the house, but beside every doorway and in the corners of the patios were hundreds of cigarette butts. I was cool with everything else. The downstairs carpet was only five years old, but was so trampled and stained it shined like a linoleum floor; the only furniture in the living room was a big screen TV, a leather couch, and a coffee table with the wood grain chipped and broken, exposing the bright yellow wood beneath the veneer; and there was a small storage garage on the back side where old roommates had left their beach cruisers and surf boards. Plus, there was plenty of street parking. But my Quiet Man nature didn’t mesh with the two guys.
They were looking for someone to move in immediately — “Tomorrow if possible, since our rent is due tomorrow” — but I’m not looking to move until late May, so it gave me an easy out. (For a moment I thought, since the turnover in the townhouse was so high, “I could rent the spare room, put up with these guys for a while, then, as they left, could clean it up and get some cool people in here.” Who knows how long that would take. It was the perfect place to live if I could get my best homies from IC to move out. But they’re too chicken to leave the Ol’ Unchanging, and the two who had the foresight to escape are either married or engaged.) But do I really want to go through the hassle of advertising myself to people I don’t know so I can live with them? Do I want to live with perfect strangers? It worked well in Santa Cruz, but now I have a job and can afford the higher rent of a studio or one bedroom.
I’ve decided to keep checking CL, but I’m going to contact some property management companies in Huntington Beach so I can rent a place for myself. I’m also taking advantage of the wonder of CL, advertising my plight in hopes that someone will decided to rent their guest house or furnished garage to a young writer, or a rental company will give me information about their properties:
$900 HB writer looking for studio/one bedroom/guest house/garage (Huntington Beach, Newport Beach)
Hi. My name is Casey and I’m a 24 year old male looking for a studio or one bedroom apartment, or a guest house or garage someone is willing to rent in Huntington Beach or Newport Beach. I currently live in HB, but will have to move from my current home by mid-June.
I graduated from college last May and I work full time as an editorial assistant at UC Irvine. I’m a writer, and I spend most of my evenings focusing on my fiction and nonfiction. I play basketball and run. When I’m not writing I like to walk downtown and to the beach, chill out, and watch basketball, football, or baseball games (whatever’s in season). I’m laid back, humble, and easy going. I’m responsible and pay rent on time.
Please email me if you’re interested or have any information. I’d appreciate the help. Thanks.
It has my mother’s approval. How could anyone not want to rent to me?
The original plan was this: I'd rent the same room I’m renting now at my aunt’s house while she leased the other, small room. She wanted to leave the master bedroom empty so family could have a place to stay (aka, her and my uncle, who everyone knows will regret moving to the desert sooner or later). Last month she decided to rent out the master suite, then changed plans again and opted to rent the entire house around me. She began advertising on Craigslist (oh, wonderful Craigslist), and a lot of people have contacted her. However, none of them want to share the house.
So, to make it easier for her, I’ve decided to find my own place.
I hate apartment hunting. It’s heart breaking and difficult, but there’s usually a happy ending — usually. I’m certain I’ll find a place before I need to move out, but the prospect weighs on me; I feel the pressure every minute of the day until I know for sure I’ll have a place to call home.
When I moved to Santa Cruz, and was camping out above my cousin’s garage, hunting for a room to rent became a job. Every morning I scanned the new listings on CL, answering ads I found interesting and in my price range. During the day (since I wasn’t working at first) I drove around the city looking for “FOR RENT” signs and meeting people who had responded to my inquiries, taking a look at the rooms they were offering. If I was interested (and I always was) I had to put my name on a list. There were always ten or 20 names and phone numbers listed above mine. At about 5 pm I drove back to my cousin’s, checked my email, scheduled more meetings and viewings (if I was lucky enough to get a response), and combed CL again for any new posts.
It wore me out. I did it for an entire month. I was beginning to think something was wrong with me, that there was something everyone sensed to keep them from choosing me as a roommate. Even the gay French couple didn’t pick me. But, in early October, a nice woman sifted through the hundreds of responses she’d received about a room for rent in her old, west side house and singled out my email.
Ever since moving to Huntington Beach I’ve checked out the rental lists on CL. At first I did it because I was curious; I wanted to gauge the local rates and get an idea of what I could afford. But now I need to do it. So I’ve restarted the apartment hunting routine.
So far I’ve gotten a lot more responses than I did in Santa Cruz. Demand is high here, but the supply isn’t scarce (the housing situation in SC is a nightmare, which is why some people live in their VW Buses parked along West Cliff Drive). Yesterday I looked at a three bedroom townhouse two blocks from the PCH and the beach. It was incredible — everything I could ever want in a California residence. Two upstairs rooms had small patios with a view of the ocean. It was amazing, but the two guys who lived there weren’t. They were surfer-type junkies, guys who only cherish the extremes of life, and party like they never left college. The townhouse was a party pad passed down through “generations of West Covina dudes.” They didn’t smoke in the house, but beside every doorway and in the corners of the patios were hundreds of cigarette butts. I was cool with everything else. The downstairs carpet was only five years old, but was so trampled and stained it shined like a linoleum floor; the only furniture in the living room was a big screen TV, a leather couch, and a coffee table with the wood grain chipped and broken, exposing the bright yellow wood beneath the veneer; and there was a small storage garage on the back side where old roommates had left their beach cruisers and surf boards. Plus, there was plenty of street parking. But my Quiet Man nature didn’t mesh with the two guys.
They were looking for someone to move in immediately — “Tomorrow if possible, since our rent is due tomorrow” — but I’m not looking to move until late May, so it gave me an easy out. (For a moment I thought, since the turnover in the townhouse was so high, “I could rent the spare room, put up with these guys for a while, then, as they left, could clean it up and get some cool people in here.” Who knows how long that would take. It was the perfect place to live if I could get my best homies from IC to move out. But they’re too chicken to leave the Ol’ Unchanging, and the two who had the foresight to escape are either married or engaged.) But do I really want to go through the hassle of advertising myself to people I don’t know so I can live with them? Do I want to live with perfect strangers? It worked well in Santa Cruz, but now I have a job and can afford the higher rent of a studio or one bedroom.
I’ve decided to keep checking CL, but I’m going to contact some property management companies in Huntington Beach so I can rent a place for myself. I’m also taking advantage of the wonder of CL, advertising my plight in hopes that someone will decided to rent their guest house or furnished garage to a young writer, or a rental company will give me information about their properties:
$900 HB writer looking for studio/one bedroom/guest house/garage (Huntington Beach, Newport Beach)
Hi. My name is Casey and I’m a 24 year old male looking for a studio or one bedroom apartment, or a guest house or garage someone is willing to rent in Huntington Beach or Newport Beach. I currently live in HB, but will have to move from my current home by mid-June.
I graduated from college last May and I work full time as an editorial assistant at UC Irvine. I’m a writer, and I spend most of my evenings focusing on my fiction and nonfiction. I play basketball and run. When I’m not writing I like to walk downtown and to the beach, chill out, and watch basketball, football, or baseball games (whatever’s in season). I’m laid back, humble, and easy going. I’m responsible and pay rent on time.
Please email me if you’re interested or have any information. I’d appreciate the help. Thanks.
It has my mother’s approval. How could anyone not want to rent to me?
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