"I'm a Big Kid Now" or "Why Not To Get The Comcast Self Installation Kit"

For those of you hiding under a rock, I recently moved into a studio in San Francisco. I got the call a few weeks ago that I scored the place and I literally screamed out loud. It's been a little bit of a challenge finding an apartment that was both in my budget and in the Marina, but I somehow managed to pull it off.

A little about the place: My next door neighbor is practically the Exploratorium (how awesome is that?!), hardwood floors, laundry in the building, a walk-in closet and... wait for it... a parking spot. Cue angelic music. This place is everything I hoped to find and more. It's always quiet, I feel completely safe, and most importantly, I'm a short walk (or bus ride if I'm lazy) away from my friends.

I'm going on my second week here and I love it more and more everyday. I'm finally settled and it's beginning to feel more like home. After a slight tug-of-war with Comcast, I finally have tv, internet, and a phone line so I can buzz people into my building (debatably my favorite part of living in San Francisco).

Move-in costs in the City can be pretty phenomenal. One place I looked at wanted what some people in the Central Valley pay for a down payment on a home. Luckily, I was able to get in here with more reasonable costs. But since I spent all of my money on a deposit and first month's rent, I decided to opt for Comcast's "self-installation kit." When I got the box in the mail that was large enough to sleep in, I began to panic. Luckily (or unluckily, however you want to look at it) they sent me the wrong order so they scheduled a technician to install everything for free. After two calls to Comcast, one missed appointment and 3 hours this morning with Ali, the Comcast technician, I'm finally up and running.

I like to describe my place as "quirky." You have to be under 150 pounds to even fit through my foyer (yes, I have a foyer) and the sound of my shower often mimics the screaming mandrake root on Harry Potter. But I can lay in bed, eating ice cream and watching The Bachelorette; I can blast the Dixie Chicks while I make a Trader Joe's dinner; and I can leave my dishes in the sink for 3 days and no one will care. This place isn't perfect. But it's perfect for me.