Apartments for Cheap

Questions and Answers

Your Questions About Loft Apartments Chicago

June 30, 2013

Thomas asks…

deciding on moving to los angeles?

Hey so I live in Chicago and I’m 20 years old. I am thinking of moving to la in about a year if I have a job and get into a good school and plus find an apartment. So what is it like plus living there. Like the weather, schools, food, housing, and things to do. I also want to know what are the best places to live. I am going to rent or buy a loft so I want to know a good modern place and location.

Administrator answers:

While California was once where the jobs were that no longer is the case. Unemployment is about the highest in the country. Michigan is the only state worse off. Jobs of any kind are almost non existent. You would have extreme difficulty finding work.

Los Angeles is one of the most expensive cities to live in. Prices of everything will be close to those in Chicago, but still a littler more. A small apartment will start in the $1100 – $1200 range, and three times that to move in (first, last, and security). Part of California’s problems revolve around the failure in the home mortgage / banking industry. Getting a loan to buy is extremely difficult.

If you also are considering going to college here you will be shocked at how much the non resident tuition is. California is broke, and the colleges have suffered with budget cuts, and reduced enrollment. Getting in will be difficult.

Bring your winter clothing if you do come. We do have a Winter season where overnight lows can get into the low 40′s, however it rarely snows because of the low elevation.

If you are determined to come here at least wait a couple years to see if the economy recovers. You’re still very young so there’s no rush. There is a reason most people are trying to persuade you not to move here.

Sandy asks…

What do you think? ?

OK. obviously it has its many kinks and cracks and stuff, but this was just a quick jot down of something. so tell me wat you think.

Elita trudged through the city streets miserably. She had lost her job. Her home, and her dog all within the past twenty-four hours, and for some reason, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t figure out why she had even been stupid enough in the first place to crawl her way into work this morning. She was young; far too young to even be working as a secretary for Bomb Shell’s Inc.’s top executive, and since she wouldn’t give into her bosses more than overly repressive and highly personal demands, she had lost her job. The losing of her apartment was a different story. For weeks she had been telling herself that she would eventually scrape up enough money to pay those high, menacing towers of bills that served only as her constant reminder of the giant hole she had dug herself into since moving to Chicago. Sadly, shortly after being evicted from her dusty apartment, she had lost her only companion for the past two years, her dog Luke.
Rain poured from the lightning streaked sky over head, and soaked her to the bone. She wanted desperately to go home and change into warm clothes, but with the reminding thought that she no longer had a home, the thought was quickly wiped away. Elita looked up and down the empty street trying to remember where she had parked her red 1991 Chevy Cavalier. After a few minutes, she gave up, and sat on a park bench. Curling her legs up to her chest, she buried her face into her knees and cried, her tangled brown hair falling in a cascade over her shoulders. Her world was crashing around her making everything unbearable. She didn’t know where to go from here. A friends house was out of the question since she hadn’t gotten around to making friends in Chicago yet, work was much more important to her. Local homeless shelters were out of the question as well for her pride would not allow her to even admit that she was now, by her own standards, homeless.

***

Keagan sat in the darkest corner of his favorite bar, The Loft, swishing around the liquid gold in his shot glass of whiskey. His mind was littered with thoughts that he wanted so badly to burn away, but he couldn’t bring himself to take a sip of his usual numbing medicine.
also, it does have separate paragraphs and stuff but when i copied and pasted it it refused to paste correctly.

Administrator answers:

Oh my goodness how awesome! If you keep writing like this you’ll end up being a published author one day missy. *laughs* It’s a good begining and I can’t wait to read more.

Helen asks…

Read and tell me what you think, plz??

Okay, now i know it has it’s kinks, clearly when i read it over, and i promise it will all b fixed later. and when i copied and pasted it, the pre set paragraphs were deleted.

Elita trudged through the city streets miserably. She had lost her job. Her home, and her dog all within the past twenty-four hours, and for some reason, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t figure out why she had even been stupid enough in the first place to crawl her way into work this morning. She was young; far too young to even be working as a secretary for Bomb Shell’s Inc.’s top executive, and since she wouldn’t give into her bosses more than overly repressive and highly personal demands, she had lost her job. The losing of her apartment was a different story. For weeks she had been telling herself that she would eventually scrape up enough money to pay those high, menacing towers of bills that served only as her constant reminder of the giant hole she had dug herself into since moving to Chicago. Sadly, shortly after being evicted from her dusty apartment, she had lost her only companion for the past two years, her dog Luke.
Rain poured from the lightning streaked sky over head, and soaked her to the bone. She wanted desperately to go home and change into warm clothes, but with the reminding thought that she no longer had a home, the thought was quickly wiped away. Elita looked up and down the empty street trying to remember where she had parked her red 1991 Chevy Cavalier. After a few minutes, she gave up, and sat on a park bench. Curling her legs up to her chest, she buried her face into her knees and cried, her tangled brown hair falling in a cascade over her shoulders. Her world was crashing around her making everything unbearable. She didn’t know where to go from here. A friends house was out of the question since she hadn’t gotten around to making friends in Chicago yet, work was much more important to her. Local homeless shelters were out of the question as well for her pride would not allow her to even admit that she was now, by her own standards, homeless.

***

Keagan sat in the darkest corner of his favorite bar, The Loft, swishing around the liquid gold in his shot glass of whiskey. His mind was littered with thoughts that he wanted so badly to burn away, but he couldn’t bring himself to take a sip of his usual numbing medicine. Had it really been two-hundred years since his transformation?

Administrator answers:

I enjoyed it. I think during your re-writes you’ll straighten out your sentences better in order for them to be more appealing and a bit easier to read, but I think the description of Elita and her plight is quite strong.
I feel the bleakness of what she is going through though I kinda feel like unless her car has been towed she currently has a place to stay. And where are her things? How long ago was she fired? At first I thought she was just fired and was heading to her car to go home and then I got the impression it had to be at least a few days if she’s already lost her apartment because most people rent by the month with a deposit or something so she’d have time to find a new job. Unless she was renting by the week. And yet I’m still interested in knowing where’s her stuff. How exactly did it get so bad so quickly and although I don’t expect to know that right away, as the reader I want to keep reading to find out the answers. That is the sign of a good start.
Now Keagan is chillin’. Can’t wait to find out ‘What’ he’s been transformed into, I don’t find werewolves as exciting as Vamps but vamps are sort of all over the place, really overdone to death (or undead). But when I find a good story that incorporates all the unearthlies, I’m in.

Laura asks…

Read please, and tell me what you think??

I kno it has its issies but i would be very happy if you would please read this and give me your opinion. much appreciated.

Elita trudged through the city streets miserably. She had lost her job, her home, and her dog all within the past twenty-four hours, and even though she tried to remember, she couldn‘t figure out why she had even crawled her way into work this morning to begin with. Thinking back, she probably would have chose against it had she known that today was the day she was going to give her boss his fill, and ultimately loose her job for her incompetence. The loosing of her home was a different story. For weeks she had been telling herself that she would eventually scrape up enough money to pay those high, menacing towers of bills that sat on her kitchen counter; they served as her constant reminders of the hole she had dug herself into since moving to Chicago. Sadly, shortly after being evicted from her dusty apartment, she had lost her only companion for the past two years, her dog Russ.
Rain poured from the lightning streaked sky over head, and soaked her to the bone. She wanted desperately to go home and change into warm clothes, but a quick thought reminded her that she, in fact, no longer had a so called “home”.
Elita looked up and down the empty street trying to remember where she had parked her red 1991 Chevy Cavalier. After a few minutes, she gave up, and sat on a park bench. Curling her legs up to her chest, she buried her face into her knees and cried, her tangled brown hair falling in a cascade over her shoulders. Her world was crashing around her making everything unbearable. She didn’t know where to go from here. A friends house was out of the question since she hadn’t gotten around to making friends in Chicago yet; work was much more important to her. Local homeless shelters were out of the question as well, for her pride would not allow her to even admit that she was now, by her own standards, homeless.

***

Keagan sat in the darkest corner of his favorite bar, The Loft, swishing around the liquid gold in his shot glass of whiskey. His mind was littered with thoughts that he wanted so badly to burn away, but he couldn’t bring himself to take a sip of his usual numbing medicine. Had it really been fifty years since his transformation? It seemed like only yesterday when the accident occurred and the Dark Gift was forced upon him, but maybe that was just a side effect of his new, unfailing and all too accurate memory.
He saw it all clearly, and felt the centuries old pain again, but it was only momentary. He saw his makers face, bright and lustrous in the moonlight as she looked at his mangled body on the ground.
Her eyes had a strange desire in their depths as she stared at Keagan.
“Poor thing.” she muttered.
She cradled Keagan’s head in her lap and placed her ear to his chest. The normally loud thud-thud of all human hearts was slowly being dulled. The woman knew what she had to do. She lowered her head down to Keagan’s neck.
“Stay still. This will hurt at first, but not for long”
As she sank her fangs into his soft skin, Keagan gasped for a moment, but soon went still. The sudden wave of realization flooded over him as he realized what this beautiful stranger was. A vampire. He felt his already struggling heart began to weaken even more. His vision was fading, and his weakness was growing more and more prominent.
Lifting her head from his neck, the woman put her own wrist up to her fangs and slid them across her skin, leaving a bright red line of blood dribbling from the gash.
“Drink if you wish to live.” she said while pressing her wrist to his lips.
Keagan was hesitant. Should he drink a strangers blood? Let alone, any blood at all? Was his life really that important to him?
She pressed her wrist against his lips again, more fervent this time.
“You are going to die anyway, Keagan. At least this way, you can live in the end.”
A snap decision made him do what he knew he wanted her to. Pressing his lips to her open wound, Keagan hesitantly drew her blood into his mouth. The taste didn’t repulse him, surprisingly. In fact, it did quiet the opposite. He swallowed gulp after gulp of her blood until she had to forcibly remove his grip from her arm, and pull her wrist from his lips.
“That’s quiet enough.”
A quick flick of her tongue over the gash made it seal itself. She laid Keagan’s head back on the ground slowly, and stood to look at the wreckage. A few yards away was a truck plowed head first into a tree off to the side of the road. There was no doubt that it was totaled.
“You really almost did yourself in, Keagan. Had I not been near by, your final moments on this God forsaken eart
it didnt copy all of it, srri, thats all you get to read i guess.
Yea, i realize vampires are overdone but i never tire of them and i have alwayz wanted to write my own vampire story.

Administrator answers:

When i saw “That’s quiet enough” i cracked up.anyway i like it, its not very original because everyone is writing about vampires these days but i like it. At first i thought it would be about how a woman would go over obstacles from being homeless… But oh well.

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