Looking for a new apartment is about as much fun as waiting 3 hours in the line to turn in your passport forms only to find out that your pictures are too blurry, and you misspelled your name on the second page. The first apartment complex is full off people over the age of 60 and there are shirtless old men working out on "the press bench" (as our tour guide called it). Another apartment is too expensive when you consider all the fabreeze you are going to have to buy to cover the lingering smell of pizza rolls. One apartment's livingroom featured a painting of a kitty downing whisky called "The Secret Drinker." Eventually you have to decide where you are going to live, and where you are going to feel comfortable paying rent 5 min. before the office closes in rainbow striped toe-socks. I found my apartment today, and I wore a pink hair bow as I signed my name on the dotted line. The realty lady did not look at me like I was crazy, it was more like a look that said "bless her eccentric soul." I knew I was home (at least for the next 12 months).