Structural Issues.

Culture I’ve imbibed lately:

Saint Maud – A horror rooted in the caretaking industry, which is timely. Also, to a lesser degree, a study in terminal illness for the renegade craftsman female.

A Marriage Story – Not as weighty and allegorical as the Bergman that clearly inspired it. But, nonetheless, a nuanced, messy human portrait and a feast of naturalistic performance. Plus, a revealing glimpse into what Baumbach has dubbed the “divorce industrial complex”.

Also: It so happens that old man Reznor has been relating deeply to, and having his creative life enriched by, a young person with a uterus who just became a parent and who also happens to be a pop star, and the snob contingent of his fan base really needs to get over it.

To Do: Varda’s Cleo from 5 to 7 (thanks, Nerdwriter), and, acquiescently, Cruella.

Life: I went to both retirement bashes (one official, one un-official) for the co-worker I mentioned in a recent entry. It was never clearer to me how everyone I work with recognizes the same structural issues and is maintaining the status quo only as long as they have to/can humanly stand. Absurdity everyone appreciates but endures, taking comfort in the fact that it’s shared. Excluding, of course, those who are already retired, whose eyes and skin now radiate an otherworldly glow.

Lately I started having hankerings to live in a place that looks like this, even if it meant divesting some of my worldly possessions:

…so I set about determining whether there is a plausible means by which to do so.

A few things I discovered in my research:

(some bullet points mildly exaggerated for tragicomic effect)

-Richmond is the seasonal allergy capital of the U.S.A.
-Up-and-coming Richmond warehouse districts are flat as hell and filled with little else but breweries. A lot of the converted buildings are single-story
-Converted Richmond warehouses are often presided over by slumlords who skimp on maintenance and instead bank on people’s desperate desire to live in places that look like the picture above
-The towering windows in converted warehouses tend to have really thin glass panes that, independent of heating or cooling systems, make living spaces sweltering in the summer and frigid in the winter
-The hastily constructed walls often found in converted warehouses tend to create the illusion that your neighbors and their pets are in the room with you
-Converted warehouses often have roach and rodent issues
-Pet-friendly converted warehouses often have pet poop issues
-Exposed brick needs to get properly treated so it doesn’t get gross (who knew? OK, probably most of you), and a lot of these places, like, don’t really do that
-The price I am willing to pay for a converted warehouse unit is likely to buy me a ground floor, basement, or otherwise weird-ass unit that doesn’t look a thing like the show unit
-Converted warehouse units always have at least one windowless (cell-like, endorphin-killing) bedroom
-That is, when a two-bedroom is even close to affordable
-If it’s affordable for me, there’s usually something horribly wrong with it
-The gamble of whether I’d end up next to ongoing construction, an alley frequented by garbage trucks, a rowdy nightclub, or an aspiring drummer makes me literally cringe thinking about it

I know. I’m such a fun, carefree young thing.

So. Nice dream. More likely we’d have to find a perfectly-timed-and-priced house to rent in the suburbs, and with luck at least the living room would have hardwood and there’d be some tiny sliver of exposed brick somewhere, even if it’s just the fireplace.

Or, I could simmer down and cozy back up to my biohazard carpet and continue to save enough each month to make a grown, defeated Millennial cry.