My apartment, located in downtown Charlottetown, is huge. Really too big for a 2-person apartment. The rent is reasonable. My walk to work is approximately 4 minutes. Facilities close to my apartment include: the Confederation Court Mall, City Cinema, three convenience stores, Peake’s Quay, the Confederation Centre of the Arts and much more.
Naturally, some people are confused when I say how anxious I am to leave this apartment.
As a historic building, it’s definitely flawed. It’s frigid in the winter and hotter ‘an hell in the summer. (It’s been an especially hot summer, so I’ve been getting headaches and having trouble sleeping.) The heat isn’t included in the rent, making my home very expensive in the winter months- and still freezing cold.
When I was in college, I would hang out at Hunter’s Ale House or Baba’s Lounge at least a couple weekends in a month. Now I go out drinking a couple evenings a year. As I get older, I’m finding a lot more satisfaction with staying in. Sewing. Reading. Writing. Painting. Or just staying in and watching a movie. At my most ambitious, I’ll go out for dinner and a movie. I like to keep it classy.
Plus, I make for an awful hungover person. It’s not pretty.
So being close to the most popular bars in town is no longer an attractive feature for a residence for me. I’ll still work downtown, but as a place to live: I’m done.
You can call me a prude, but I’m tired of hearing drunk people screaming and cursing at the top of their lungs with no concern for the people who happen to live nearby. I regularly leave my building on Sunday to find a smashed beer bottle near the door. The mailbox across the street is kicked over (BANG!) every single weekend without fail. Scares the crap out of me every time.
And this stuff doesn’t just happen on Saturday. During the winter, it’s Thursday-Saturday. During the summer, it can be any evening at all. Sunday included.
Please note: I have no problem with people relaxing, having a good time and having a few. It’s just the immature, obnoxiousness that I can’t stand anymore.
Yes, you’ve had a couple wine coolers. Must you announce it by screaming “WHOOOOO” as you trip in your high heels?
Stop being an idiot. I have work in the morning.
Perhaps I sound a little old for my 24.5 years, but I was raised in the country. (Yes, a lot more country than Charlottetown. I swear, it exists.) When I would drift to asleep at night, my bedroom window wide open, the most I would expect to hear on a Wednesday night would be the chirping of crickets or ducks in the nearby river. In winter, I’d hear huge chunks of ice breaking apart like mini icebergs.
Now, I get to hear obviously-hammered friends getting into a brawl. Oh, and there was that time when someone puked and I heard it. That was nice. And motorcycles roaring up the street at 5 a.m. (And I do mean roaring.) And drunk girls screaming and calling one another bitches and whores. Exhausted tourists fighting over which street they’re on and wrestling over a map.
Oh. Did I mention all of these things happened just last week? Yeah. No joke.
Of course I don’t know how peaceful the new apartment and its surroundings will be. But the nearest bar is about 2km away, so it comforts me. Because I don’t drive, I have to continue living in town instead of migrating to Stratford. And I like living in town, but I also like being able to sleep.
With that being said, there are a few things I’ll miss about living in downtown Charlottetown:
- very short walk to work
- brief walks to the waterfront in the winter when it’s empty are my favorite
- the clip-cloppy of horse hooves on the street in the summer
- the beautiful light displays at Province House during summer and Christmas
Thankfully, I can still experience those things (except for the first thing), without having to hear someone vomming outside my building when I’m trying to sleep.
I moved to Charlottetown in September 2008 and have only ever lived downtown. I’ve grown up a lot in that time. (I do my own laundry and everything!) I think I’m finally ready to make the big move to a grown up apartment and leave the stumbling-home to a younger woman than I.