The Price is Right..!

Done deal. Car's sold.

Now all I need to do is arrange for a rental car for a couple of weeks until I leave. Meh, I'll worry about that in the next day or so. This should be interesting: "Um, can I get a rental car for every other day, but I need it for the Labor Day weekend, and then back to every other day, but not for that last Wednesday, and then I need a one-way rental up to NY." Yeah, that's a three-hour phone call to which I'm not looking forward.

The gentleman who purchased the STR Benzo is the kindest, most honorable man I've met in a long time. He's buying the car for his first-year college student son...um...who's currently driving a BMW 540. Nice. My first car was a turbo-charged Mitsubishi Cordia. Nope. No one ever knows what that is. Meh, I did love that car...until Trish crashed it into the back of a Mercedes and totaled it.

Anywho, this kind sir moved from the EU to the States, so we had quite a conversation about my upcoming life-change. In fact, we're going to lunch this week to further talk moving, other countries and the social dimension of globalization. This new friendship has really restored a bit of my faith in humanity. Typically selling a car is such a hassle (which, if you saw some of the creepy responses I received, you'd agreed), but this turned into a really nice experience. Hopefully a harbinger of things yet to come...

And I could use a bit of good harbingers right now. Of late, I've been wondering if the gods are trying to tell me something...Julian was to view two flats on my behalf on Monday morning. Just before the meeting, one of the agents e-mailed to advise that the flat had structural damage and wouldn't be ready for a month or so. Good times. I can picture Star and I, hanging in a flat, watching tv, as pieces of the ceiling crumble and fall upon our heads.

The other agent said he'd show Julian two flats in the nearby area. Great. Cool. Sounded good.

So poor, dear Julian - suffering from G0M0 (the one right before H1N1) - drove his lil' Mini down to meet the agent for the appointment. Not to be, however, as his car made a horrific noise (the clutch?) and he had to retreat back toward his mechanic. Argh!

I've now expanded my flat search to surrounding areas. Please, please! Won't someone give me and Star a home...if even just for six months? Crikey. Why is it so hard to find one tiny flat in a really big, expansive city like London?