the Angie’s List Blue House Blog

I’m by no means rich, which means sometimes I have to settle for less. Like, I’m not really thinking about such grand luxuries as remarriages at this stage in my life. I’m more concerned with convincing the right girl I’m not some sort of waif.

But, alas, that’s the life of an impecunious intern and college student. Once I amass enough wealth, my first goal is to move out of my apartment building, buy it and level it (my second goal is to buy the choice items pictured at right). That purchase might take time, of course, but I’m convinced it would be the best fate for my apartment complex, an edifice of ugly.

I’ve lived in a horde of rentals. I’ve had noisy neighbors and have been the noisy neighbor, both of which are equally stressful. That’s why I’d like to one day become a homeowner.

All these thoughts about homeownership came recently when I encountered even more stupidity with apartment management. As you might know, it was my modest dream to own a German shepherd. Then my landlord told me it was a “dangerous breed” and therefore prohibited on apartment grounds.

That seemed weird to me, because my neighborhood, Haughville, had something like 449 violent crimes in 2005. So, statistically, my neighbors and myself are more likely to get bit by a bullet than a dog, and there’s no policy against gun ownership.

But I’m not here to argue against my landlord’s egregious logic. So why did I mention my apartment and its animal policy? Because it’s August, and our pet-themed issue will be hitting mailboxes throughout this week. We’re very excited. And in case you’re wondering, I did get a dog. His name’s Webster, and he’s vicious.