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Maer, Anna and Joe, who founded the site, are totally awesome and I love writing for them. It's my birthday today. I got to quit smoking, The Fix launched, and I got a squatting tenant as an added bonus!

The Fix is up

I keep swooning like they did in the days of Scarlett O'Hara. It sounds romantic, but actually it's quite inconvenient to deal with stress by zonking out in a yoga class.

Anyhow, The Fix is up. Check out two of my articles here and here. And tweet the fuck out of this site. I think it's a brilliant idea.

Dear Camden Council

Dear Ms Clarke and Mr Zoffman,

I have spoken to the Deposit Protection Scheme and taken a solicitor's advice: they have instructed me that any moneys must be agreed upon in the courts. Tomorrow Mr Longo's tenancy is over and a notice to repossess will be sent. Demands for money from me or my father made by Mr Longo in order to make good his promise to leave my property, I consider blackmail and harassment. Blackmail, I might remind you all, constitutes a criminal offense, and is dealt with as such in a court of law.

Rhonda, please instruct your client to stop demanding money from me or my father as an agreement to leave the flat. It is offensive, distressing and illegal, and should my father (who has severe heart problems) or I suffer any further, I will consider Camden council personally responsible.

I am extremely sad, pained and distressed that both my retired father and I have had to put up with this shockingly unpleasant behavior and that we have to resort to litigation to impress upon Mr Longo the legally binding nature of his tenancy agreement, and the financial, emotional, physical and legal repercussions of his refusal to leave my property.

I would suggest you now ask Mr Longo to leave my property as soon as possible and rest assured all monies will be dealt with legally, by the courts. I am grateful, Rhonda, that you have managed to stop Mr Longo harassing me - until today, when he sent me a threat of legal action and a particularly unpleasant email to my father who is suffering greatly from the unpleasant nature and harassing tone of Mr Longo's communications. Now I must ask that you please stop Mr Longo harassing my father as well as myself. The only communication I wish from Mr Longo is a guaranteed agreement to leave, and rest assured all monies will be dealt with by the solicitors provided by the Government Deposit Scheme to avoid unreasonable demands and threats from Mr Longo.

I have heard that Mr Longo has promised to vacate the property by April 13th. I assume this promise still stands, but unfortunately as we are all aware, a promise from Mr Longo does not constitute a reality, and we will issue the notice to repossess and hope that he leaves without causing any further damage to this family's wellbeing.

Please advise your client more wisely Ms. Clarke and Mr Zoffman. In the past week I have received numerous emails which constitute harassment. I personally, am on the verge of a breakdown, and am being looked after by friends in the US because the stress of this situation, not to mention the financial implications. This has all made it impossible for me to move into the room I had intended to rent in London, rendering me homeless and unable to work. This whole situation has been, perhaps, one of the worst of my entire 32 years on this planet and I find it incomprehensible that a tenant whom I asked to leave my property after his lease had ended - a tenant whom I asked to leave because of sexual harassment, noise, consistent unpleasantness, threats to break the lease, then threats to overstay past the tenancy agreement, a man I asked to leave with good grace because I was worried about benefit fraud being committed on my property - is now being allowed to get away with trying to demand money from my sick GP father, and from a woman who rented her home out to him in good faith, through the right channels, with trust and kindness, because she couldn't pay the mortgage - me.

Please deal with this situation immediately, and I would sincerely appreciate an apology to my father that he has had to deal with threats and unpleasantness from Mr Longo.

The 28th March is my birthday. The best gift I could wish for is this man leave my home because he is scaring me, and I believe the stress of his demands are compounding my father's ill health. I am not asking Mr Longo to leave because I wish him homeless, I wish him ill - I wish him none of this. I believe him a perfectly capable young man who is intelligent and able-bodied enough to find a home he can pay for through his freelance work as a sound artist. I have no prejudice against DSS tenants in the slightest, although my experience with Mr Longo has, unfortunately, proven one that has made me question whether I would ever have a DSS tenant in my flat again, and this saddens me and is against every principle I have believed in my entire life.

I'm asking Mr Longo to leave because he frightens me, and his refusal to leave, his demands for money, are yet another indication of his intent to harass and bully me. This, in itself, is terrifying. Please do everything in your power to get my home back before it kills my father and sends me into the Psych Ward.

Update

My illegal tenant is now demanding money from my father and I to leave my premises!!! Is Camden council behind this? I notice he cc-ed Rhonda Clarke in. Can't believe they're now endorsing blackmail. Cunts.

And so to....

When you want something done quickly and you're facing bureaucratic pen-pushing morons, write about people, be ruthlessly indiscreet, and drop the journo card. Thanks to this blog, a notice to repossess and a bunch of journo friends calling Camden, it looks like evil tenant may be on the move. It'll have cost me a lot of money I don't have, but I'm just grateful he'll be gone. What do normal people do when they can't get a tabloid to ask difficult questions in times of need? It must suck having to go through the normal, crappy, ineffective channels.

I was sitting in front of the fire eating smores and watching 'A Few Good Men' when my friend Paul called me from New York, where he's been hanging out with Arianna Huffington all day. She's just taken over the site he writes a column for, techcrunch, and now they seem bestest buddies. So Paul called. Did I want to come to < **insert mystery location** > with him? Well, I would, but I'm completely broke after the last week of solicitors and mortgage and... Oh, no problem. He'll sort me out. Come.

So I'm going to <**mystery location**> with ten bucks in my bank account.

I just finished two articles, a play and my pilot script (hence no juice for blog - sorry guys, you get my sloppy writing these days), so all I have to do - is get on a plane.

If anyone out there is thinking about getting sober, or has got sober and thinks life isn't getting great quick enough - hold on, hold on, hold on. It gets really fucking good. It can take a while. Stuff can even get worse at first. It took nearly two years for my life to go up after a nasty bottom and there are still hugely rocky patches. But I swear magic things have happened this last seven months, and it's all because of quitting the bad stuff. And even when an asshole decided to live in my home in London for free, I didn't have to get shitfaced over it. I think that's pretty cool.

And so to...

lalala

I got my BAFTA membership through, so even though I'll be bankrupt and homeless paying for those court costs to evict tenant-from-hell.... I can still watch movies! Besty took me out to watch Jane Eyre to distract me from imminent breakdown. Funnily enough, I ended up having a meeting with Ruby Films this morning. Thank god I loved the movie, and the amazing Michael Fassbender and Mia Wasikowska.... it always sucks having a meeting with producers and having to carefully avoid mentioning their work, because you hated it. Not so with Ruby, who also made the incredible 'Temple Grandin'. Ruby kick butt.

I am really, really not good at dealing with stress and money and uber-shit, so I booked in with a shrink and my chiropractor. It's money that should be spent on other stuff, but sometimes you have to invest in a little of you to prevent things like... having an enormous fucking breakdown because you're worried you're about to go into mortgage arrears. Having splurged to a stranger and been bashed into shape and massaged by movie-going, I'm starting to feel better. (Though I'd like to point out to Simon Longo's government appointed lawyer and the Ms Rhonda Clarke who advised him to stay illegally in my property - I'm still absolutely wrecked by this experience. I'll add the shrink and the chiro to the small claims case;) I'm still kind of in shock and awe that the British system, designed to protect people, actually creates massive disparities and bias between tenants and landlords, thus creating and sustaining inequality, and reinforcing difference. It doesn't give landlords and tenants equal power and access to the same resources - it makes people like me at the mercy of a man who refuses to move and has, at his fingertips, resources, money and employees provided by the government, which are denied to me by dint that I own property. It makes landlords powerless.

The worst thing about this whole experience is that I'll never, ever trust a person on DSS again. And most of them are good people having a shit time who need the help to live a proper life and get on their feet again. But some of them are using the system to fund their holiday home in London while they take vacations abroad and break leases. And because of one Simon Longo, the Daily Mail will write a million articles about evil benefits seekers, and anyone who gets screwed by a Simon Longo will feel like a rightwing cunt for complaining. I feel like a rightwing cunt. And yet my future hangs in the balance because my mortgage rates rose on 1st March, and now I'm picking up bills and court costs I never planned for. And I'm being told I'm a cunt by Camden because I'd rather make Simon Longo get off his arse and find someplace else to live so that I don't lose my own property and my credit in the UK.

I'm in LA. My borrowed sofa's comfy. I'm broke and I have loads of work and it's raining and Mr Chips is lots better and I have yoga at 7am tomorrow morning and I'm far, far away from the asshole living in my home.

The world is still a beautiful place.

It's the little things that make life worthwhile, despite the preponderance of cunts in the world.

I do love LA today more than ever.

Simon Longo now thinks it's appropriate - perhaps with the advice of Camden? - to suggest that I MOVE IN WITH HIM. That way he can stay in my flat, and he can keep squatting on my property.

I think the expression is LOL, except I'm too busy trying to swallow my own vomit and disgust to laugh.

I would feel safer in a jail full of pedophiles, than within five miles of this joker.

Anyone have any advice on injunctions against crazies in the UK? I've already asked his lawyer to instruct him to stop emailing, and he won't.

yuck

I'm really tired and really down. I think of all the things that have happened in life, this is probably one of the worst. Having your home taken over by another person who refuses to leave is really, really scary. You realize you have no rights - or what rights you have can only be exerted in a lengthy, expensive, nasty way in court. It just frightens the beejeezus out of me that a written contract has no weight or cannot bind anyone to a formal agreement, until it's gone to court! And everyone keeps telling me it's to "protect tenants against evil landlords". I get that evil landlords exploit tenants, but I absolutely cannot believe that as a landlord, you can be made homeless by the simple fact your property is being squatted by an unwanted tenant who refuses to move.

You own nothing in life, that's absolutely clear. And in Britain, the guy who squats your home is given a lawyer provided by the council and you're told you had no right to rent your own flat out on the assumption that same man might adhere to a signed, legal contract. Where's my lawyer Camden? Where's my one bedroom flat? Where's my Rhonda Clarke, telling me that if the friend I'm staying with wants me out, I need to sit tight until the bailiffs forcibly remove me?

Oh yeah. That's right. I'm the kind of person who leaves when asked, who signs agreements and keeps to them, who doesn't work on the side, and claim benefits to top up my life, who doesn't think that they're entitled to an apartment and a lawyer and a Rhonda Clarke, paid for by the government. Because I'm the kind of person, like most of us, who takes responsibility for their own life.

I just don't want to take responsibility for a man called Simon Longo who thinks my home is his because he doesn't want to leave.

I'm beginning to hate my home country with a passion.

Dear Rhonda

I haven't contacted Simon for months until yesterday, when I reiterated that to him he has been served with the Section 21 Eviction Notice, a Notice to Vacate, and that if he complies with his contract and leaves on March 28th, he will receive his full deposit back and everyone will be happy. However if he does not, he will be liable for numerous costs which will probably mean he will not receive his deposit back, and will actually owe more money to me, to Olivers and to the courts.

As for Simon's "quiet enjoyment" of my home, I would like to point out that a person who voluntarily embarks upon breaking the law and invites court action must naturally expect a degree of communication from the estate agents who he has lied to, the future tenants who have now been rendered homeless by Simon's refusal to leave, and myself, who is condemned to further couchsurfing in order to fund up front the costs - eventually liable to Simon - for removing him forcibly from my home. I would say a person who invites this kind of trouble and disturbance into their lives is not someone who strikes me as one who dabbles in "quiet enjoyment", but rather one who seeks trouble, discord and gains pleasure in other people's distress and difficulties. Further, this is a man who has lied on numerous occasions. I think we need not delve further into the obvious absence of morality such a person demonstrates, but rather concentrate on removing such a person from innocent people's lives. I count myself an innocent person and wish him to leave me alone, and depart my property asap.

Until he does, I am afraid the distress Mr Simon Longo has caused will be palpably evident to all, and "quiet enjoyment" far from everyone's lives.

Ruth Fowler

Dear Ms Fowler

22nd March 2011


Mr Simon Longo - flat 32, London

I am writing following our recent telephone conversations and e-mails regarding your tenant, Mr Simon Longo. I would like to set out as clearly as I can our advice to your tenant and highlight his rights. I would like to add at this point that Camden does not wish to interfere with your rights to ask your tenant to leave or to manage your property; what we would ask is that you observe the correct process.

Background

As I understand the facts Mr Longo moved into your flat in March 2010 and you signed a one year assured shorthold tenancy with a six month break clause. Due to a number of reasons including noise complaints you decided to ask him to leave and your agents, Olivers, sent him a letter dated 28th January 2011 asking him to leave on or before 28th March 2011. This letter can be treated as notice of seeking possession under section 21 of the Housing Act 1988. You have now signed a tenancy agreement with new tenants due to start on the 29th March 2011, so would like the current tenant to move out when his notice expires as the new tenants would like to move in. He has refused to vacate.

I would be grateful if you could correct any of the above facts if they are not right.

My advice

I have advised that Mr Longo is an assured shorthold tenant under the Housing Act 1988. This means that his rights to reside in accommodation can only be terminated by a county court following possession proceedings.


Once the notice expires on 28th March only one of two things can happen. Either your tenant voluntarily decides to leave or you as the landlord apply to the county court for a possession order.

All residential occupiers are afforded this basic right and for further information please see the Protection from Eviction Act 1977 which explains the obligations of a court order in more detail. You have the right to possession and if you follow the correct procedures the judge has no discretion in this matter. I would be happy to forward more information about this and the legislation if it would help.

As Mr Longo has told us that he is not going to vacate your only recourse is, after 28th March, to commence possession proceedings in the county court. I have advised Mr Longo that he will be liable for your court fees and an order will be made by the court about costs.

I am aware that you are contacting Mr Longo regularly and I would be grateful if you would stop asking your tenant to leave. If you wish to make any representations regarding Mr Longo’s occupancy I would be grateful if you could pass them through me as his appointed adviser. The tenant has the right to live in his home with quiet enjoyment and it would be very unfortunate if this particular issue was escalated. I would also strongly advise you at this time to seek independent advice about your rights and obligations.

I do appreciate that you have entered into a contract with another prospective tenant, but I am afraid that you have jumped the gun as Mr Longo wishes to continue to reside at the flat. I would have hoped that your agent, who should be well conversed in landlord tenant law, had advised you about this prior to committing you to a further contract.

I also understand that you are upset and that this has put you in a difficult situation and it is not my intention to distress you further or create any problems. I do hope however that I have impressed on you that your tenant like all other tenants has rights and there is a due process to follow.
I hope that we can meet or discuss all of this over the phone and I would be grateful if you could give me a ring once you have read this letter.

Yours sincerely,




Rhonda Clarke
Housing Adviser
Housing Options and Advice Service

Dear Rhonda

Just one more note Rhonda, before I sign off having spent a fourteen hour day crying and facing imminent bankruptcy because of your recommendation that Simon Longo aka the tenant from hell - stay illegally in my own home while I face homelessness... BTW, did you know it's possible for me to seek financial compensation for all the distress and money you and Simon have caused me over the last 24 hours? Yes, it is! Who would have believed that anyone would give a flying fuck that you three - Camden council, Simon Longo and Rhonda Clarke - are about to make me homeless, are on the verge of ruining my life, my credit and my home in the UK, and all this might cause me an expensive emotional breakdown?! Strange isn't it? I guess in your office only tenants are people aren't they? Landlords are just rich cunts who deserve to be ass-fucked for having the gall to own property - particularly if they don't live in their own property because they can't afford to since that teeny thing called the recession. The nerve!

Simon's rent for April will be in arrears on March 24th 2011. If he intends to stay in my property illegally as you have recommended he do, Rhonda, I would appreciate it if you could let me know by this date, as I will then by applying for the repossession notice - and good news Rhonda! It's now available online without lengthy court battles! It seems like we'll be talking to each a whole bunch over the next two weeks - I can't wait!

On Monday the 28th March - my birthday, how wonderful! - I shall be pitching the tent outside my front door. I look forward to you making me homeless, Rhonda. What a birthday present. You seem to have done that to four living beings this month - my future tenant and her daughter (who I have suggested seek compensation from Simon Longo in the small claims court despite your misguided belief that this is not possible), myself, and my small dog. Congratulations on such startling efficiency from the Housing Board! Seeing as Camden is now exhorting Simon Longo to stay in my property without paying rent, will you now be finding us homeless people accommodation from the money you've saved from shifting Simon's expenses to me? Perhaps my flight back to the UK? A meal at a slap-up restaurant? New shoes? I like Manolo Blahnik. Slightly 2005, but still great, and at 500 bucks a pair - cheaper than Simon Longo in your apartment!

I should have been squatting my own property and claiming I had a disabled dog in Los Angeles who I was single-handedly supporting from Government hand outs and freelance work - and then you might have paid my mortgage for me all this time I was sleeping on sofas and lacking my own home!

I look forward to another 14 hour day tomorrow. You must truly sleep soundly at night knowing your job has such an impact on people's lives! Hey - wouldn't it be funny if you went home one day and Simon Longo was in your bedroom and refusing to leave?! Pretty hilarious, right? I guess, because you guys in the Housing Office are such great people, you'd invite him in for a cup of tea and -

Oh. MY. GOD!

I have the solution!

I get my flat back..... and SIMON LONGO MOVES IN WITH YOU!!!

This is such a great idea I think I'll share it with your superior. Who's your boss? Can't wait to chat. Doubt I'll be sleeping at all tonight seeing as you guys have kind of destroyed my life. Feel free to email anytime and pass me on to your superior! Let's all get involved in this! It's like one big jolly 'fuck ruth' party!

Lots of love

Ruth xoxox

Camden's Buttfuck Spectacular

I bought a one-bed ex-local flat in Kentish Town, London in January 2008. I bought it just after my book deal, when journalism was picking up and life was easy and jobs were growing on trees, and then I had to go to America for the launch of my book and a travel article for The Observer, and then the recession happened, and then everyone was out of work and broke, and scary things were afoot in the world.

I rented my flat out then, just to cover the mortgage. Never made money off the flat, but when I couldn't afford it, someone else could, and it helped me out until the day I could move back in and make it home.

Eighteen months later and I was very nearly at that place, when Camden council sent me a bill for 'Major Works' done to improve the quality of the building and surrounding area. This includes mending a fence which is quarter of a mile from my house, putting in a new lift because the old one wasn't pretty, and installing satellite TV, even though I watch everything on the internet.

I now owed Camden Council five thousand pounds for work I didn't actually see or feel, and they wanted it. Woohee! Did they want it. I think they sent me a letter a week for two years or something. In an effort to pay off that bill and get my place back, I rented my flat out once again, this time to an Italian guy - Simon Longo - who was on DHSS. Like the dumb liberal I am, I figured it was my token charity act, seeing as I've had zero spare cash to give to charity the last few years. His rent didn't quite pay everything, but what the fuck. The majority of the bills were being paid, I just had to dig deep for that extra 5k, and then soon I could move back into my own flat. It pissed me off that people were so mean about DHSS, and so many landlords refused to take them.

The last few months were hard. I just wanted to pay that damn Camden bill. So I gave up my car for repossession, said goodbye to the tiny little wood-floor room by the beach, and turned into a transient. I've been couchsurfing, without a car or place to call my own, for nearly four months now, and what I've lacked for in privacy, I've made up for in friendship. The sheer kindness and patience and love of the people around me is just - well, astounding. It's a beautiful, beautiful thing - I say, sounding revoltingly American - that friends and loved ones help me out, so I can pay off debts which got bigger than me.

I'm nearly there - I mean, completely out of debt. One more credit card, a little bit more Camden left, no Vet's bills, a teeny bit of car repayment left. The end's in sight. Finally - I thought - I could quit being an itinerant and a Blanche du Bois. Maybe by the end of the year I could even move back into my London flat, seeing as I have to be in the UK for a while.

And then a few things happened.

The DHSS guy who was in the flat had always been - well - weird. He'd banned me from entering the property in his absence in case I stole his expensive sound equipment(?!), but he was never at the flat as he was always in Italy - so I didn't get to even see inside it for seven months, which freaked me out. Because he was always away, stuff kept breaking down, and it was costing me a fortune to fix the boiler for the third time in six months. Then there was the noise issue - neighbors had complained about his music so many times Camden was threatening to withdraw the lease. Not to mention the fact he was just odd. OK, I may not have the most white-collar past, but it's a little weird to call someone about the radiator and have them slathering over your pics online and telling you you're "seeeexeeee" and asking you on a date, as if you're a walking, talking porn pic and not their goddamn landlord! And then he'd threatened me with lawyers when I mentioned, casually, I was thinking of selling the flat to pay off the huge major works bill Camden was dangling over my head. This was his home! How dare I sell it? I had no right!

All in all, Italian DHSS guy was - a total creep. So despite the fact it's kind of a hassle getting new tenants in, and I kind of wanted the flat myself in six months, and I don't really have the cash to pay the estate agents and blah-de-blah - on balance, the guy was acting unstable in a 'Fatal Attraction-based-around-a-council-estate' way. So me and the estate agent gave him 60 days notice - which would end his twelve month lease agreement - and told him to leave.

Cut to:

Six days before DHSS Italian creep is due to leave. A woman - Rhonda Clarke - from Camden Council calls me and tells me she wants to know why creepy dude has to leave the flat and why I'm not renewing his lease. It's not, by the way, an assured lease. It's a fixed period tenancy - 12 months, which has ended. I rattle off the reasons, and she says, "Well, he claims he can't find anywhere to live, so I told him he has to stay in your flat."

"Well he can't," I say in response, to which she says I have two options:

1. Essentially, I agree Creepy Italian dude can stay in my flat until June, and he keeps paying me the rent which doesn't quite cover my mortgage. In June, if I want him to leave and he doesn't want to leave, this situation repeats itself, and I have to seek expensive legal action in the courts.

Believe me when I say this isn't an option. It's pretty obvious to everyone that Creepy Italian Dude, on his little 1k government handout for a big one-bed flat all to himself in Kentish Town so he can be a freelance 'sound artist', ain't going nowhere without two big burly cops banging down the door and giving him no option.


2. If I don't agree Creepy Italian Dude can stay, Rhonda Clarke has told him to stay anyway, and I have to seek expensive legal action in the courts to get him out. Which is the same as option 1, but it happens sooner. If I don't want him in my flat, he gets to stay. But if I accept rent from him after I've told him to leave, Ms Rhonda Clarke told me I have 'implied' I am letting him stay legally.

How's that for blackmail?

It'll take me a few months to get the repossession notice, apparently, and I have to suck it up until then.

Do I sound like a cunty Republican instead of a Bill Maher-loving, Obama-campaigning Liberal? A crazy Thatcherite instead of a cuddly Kinnock-kisser? Besty just came home and said: "I bought you a Kombucha, but I'm afraid I gave it away to a homeless person." To which I replied, "Good. They should be rewarded for not squatting on someone's property."

What can I say? This situation has really, really made me hate Camden council, Simon Longo and the DHSS which can screw with landlords so casually. It's as if we're all Wall Street CEO's and deserve to be ass-fucked. We're not. I'm a person who's become voluntarily homeless in order to pay off debt, and is sleeping on friends' sofas. For all my poverty, the debt, the living on sofas and boats and in cars and having a mad, weird, itinerant, poor-person lovely life, I've never, ever claimed benefits. Because I chose to be a badly paid writer, and I don't think the government should have to pay for my job choice. I chose not to live in the UK for the past ten years, because the crappy pay I earned meant the kind of life I would have there would be - gray and shit and overpriced.

Whereas here in California even if I can't eat and can't pay rent, the sun shines, the coffee tastes better, and the sea makes me happy. And because I don't live in England, I don't use the NHS, or go home to claim unemployment, or housing benefit, even if that might pay for a one-bed in Kentish Town that I could never afford myself.

And what about these people - like me - who choose to deal with shit themselves, instead of relying on a government bail-out? Yes, bail out. Is there any difference between the Rich Bankers and the Lazy Benefits Seeker, both of whom are out to screw the system at the expense of the Working Poor? I don't think there is. Nowadays more and more people have to face the hard decision of renting out their mortgaged home to a stranger who they have to trust won't screw them - because as it turns out, a contract means shit. They have to move in with friends or families, or downgrade into a place which is too small for them. They have to sell up, or if the sale doesn't happen, they go into foreclosure and lose their home, their credit, and the savings they ploughed into a house.

But am I a total cunt for wishing 'poor Mr Longo' (who revealed a surprise coup of 'a disabled relative in Italy he single handedly supports' this morning) - to be homeless?

After talking to the estate agents and the busybody lady at Camden, it's become apparent that Creepy Italian Dude hasn't bothered to look for alternative accommodation. He doesn't want to leave, he doesn't want to look for a new place, and Camden have told him he doesn't have to. He can have everything he wants. Because Mrs Camden has told him his landlord won't bother evicting him. His landlord won't bother serving him with repossession papers and going to the court. And if she does do any of this - hey, it'll take 4 - 5 months. Landlord has to pay. Yeah, he's liable, but he can get away with paying off a few grand's debt at a rate of 50p a week in a British court. He can sit pretty and enjoy life at my expense.

I'm basically being held hostage by Camden Council to accommodate this twat in my apartment. Because of his refusal to leave, the new tenants due to move in on Tuesday have been told they can't move in, and my solicitor has suggested they sue him in small claims for their expenses. I've now filed a repossession notice because he's ignored the Section 21 eviction notice.... and Camden are treating me like I'm a big old Tory cunt (I'm more an American Democrat, in case you're wondering) for daring to evict a DHSS tenant who won't leave my property and has broken the terms of the lease - at their suggestion! Not only that, a woman at Camden council told me I "had no right" to rent out my property on the assumption that Creepy Italian Dude would adhere to a legal tenancy agreement and Section 21 notice. It wasn't mine to rent, she told me snootily. Who the fuck does it belong to then you stupid bint?!!

It's completely and utterly crazy, disturbing, confusing, upsetting... not only has it ruined my 'clearing debt' scheme, it's rendered me homeless a bunch of times over. Firstly because of Camden's completely inflated service charges making me rent the place out to pay for massive bills in the first place, and now because I have to foot the court costs and the mortgage and the service charge for a flat I can't even live in! D'you think I can afford to find my own place now? I don't fucking think so. I have to pay for Simon Longo's life. It's scary, scary stuff.

So I did what any good writer would do, and I pledged to write about it. Everyday. Including all of Camden council's emails to me, and all of Simon Longo's emails to me. So that everyone can see how fucking screwed up this system is.

I just don't get England. I love it and all - hell, it's my country. But I just don't get it. And things like this make it impossible for me to contemplate ever returning to live there.

And in case you're wondering, I'm selling that cunting flat as soon as that tosser's out of there.

The Music Never Stopped

Went to see 'The Music Never Stopped' in Westwood last night. The script was written by a friend of mine, Gary Marks. Totally check this movie out. First twenty minutes was a bit slow, the 'look' of it and the cinematography wasn't great, but the truly brilliant script and superb acting - the relationship between father and son is heartbreakingly brilliant - really made it. It's one of those movies which stays with you in a good way for a long, long time.

Then I went to the after party dressed like a hipster in a cow coat and was completely ignored the entire evening, rendered speechless by sobriety. That was less fun, but hey, I shouldn't have dressed like a bovine.

Tsunami

Got woken up in the early hours of Friday morning by a bunch of text messages from England: Tsunami hit Japan - headed for LA! Get out!, Please head inland and let me know you're OK, tsunami headed to california

So I read them, and then went back to sleep. I woke up at seven, rolled over, and said to Besty, "Dude, there's a tsunami headed for us." We wandered downstairs together, bleary-eyed and bemused, and D was in front of the TV.

"Oh for fuck's sake Peta, I'm watching the TV right now. People are surfing in Venice, Peta. They're surfing. Of course you can go to work. No, we don't have a contingency plan. If it hits I guess we die. These things go at a million miles an hour for god's sake. I'm watching the news and people are surfing."

People were surfing. I guess when you live in LA you get used to earthquakes and disasters and if it was headed for us, we would keep surfing, not ever quite believe it until the wave hit. I found out later that people who lived right on the beach were evacuated at 5am. We live about half a mile away from the beach, just before Lincoln Blvd - I mean, if it had come, we would have been squooshed. But it didn't come. And we drank coffee from Abbotts Habit and watched BBC Worldwide and soaked ourselves in terrible, awful sad stories, like the woman who grabbed onto a tree and watched her daughter wash away.

I was in India for 9/11, New York for the London bombings, New York for Katrina, LA for Haiti... I've lived outside England for eleven years now. Strange. And I subconsciously punctuate my time away, mark it by milestones of disaster. Weird things are happening in the world. I found out later four people got killed by riptides off California and a harbour was torn up in Santa Cruz. I guess we weren't so immune.

Thoughts and Prayers to Japan. Even when it might have hit us I didn't feel it. And I still can't. Like everyone I guess I'm just numb by the horror and magnitude of someone else's tragedy. Thoughts and prayers. And a little bit of a donation if you have the spare cash.

Puppy Oxy

Well, how much changes in a week. Mr Chips was born with a luxating patella on both back legs. I was warned by my vet it might need surgery at some point, but to hold off until it caused him discomfort. Unfortunately, over the weekend, he started crying and walking strangely - and we took him into the vet, and he needed surgery.

The vet said he needed both legs done, and it would cost $2600 bucks. OK then. So I cancelled the flights back to England, and used the money on surgery. I picked him up today, and was told - oh no! - that 2600 bucks was only for one leg. It'd cost another 2600 to do the other leg in a few months.

So he's home and he's doped up on puppy Oxy and we have friends looking after us for our unscheduled 5-6 more weeks in California. I'm secretly pleased I get to stay, but sad my poor Pup is on opiates and sleeping the pain away and has a hard recovery ahead of him. All my Brit producers are being very understanding about the fact I can only do meetings on skype, which is very kind of them. Unfortunately, I'm back to being broooooke (I mean, literally, I have about 180 bucks in my bank account right now!) until the next script swings into action - and who knows when that will be. So I may be stuck here living on sofas, carless, for a while... I'm not fretting. Mr Chips is alive and in recovery and that's the most important thing. I love my dog more than anything.

Something Like Happiness

Have been busy treatmenting to death (I hate treatments) and writing for The Fix, an LA based website about addiction and recovery which launches in March. It's been lots of fun running round Hollywood interviewing sober actors, writing articles, doing reports on issues like vitamin supplements for addicts and alcoholics (believe me, more interesting than it sounds!). I love the fact a bunch of people I knew in my 'old' New York life are now LA-based, sober, and writing for the same site. Pretty awesome.

I'm enjoying life so much at the moment. Haven't felt like that for a long time. There are stresses and worries, but after that horrendous Christmas, life has leveled off and I feel something like happiness. It's hard to hand in a car, get rid of your apartment, and jump into relying on the kindness of friends and family while you work off debt, but it's working out well. Really well. Better than I expected. Like all I had to do was let go, give up, and now life's going OK. They love to say, 'let go' in AA, and it always pisses me off. "Of what you cock?" is usually my first response. But in this case, it was letting go of quite big things: my apartment, my car, the anger I felt towards a shitty production company for screwing me over, the bitterness I nursed towards a person who treated me badly... I had to get over all that in order to pay off debt, emerge from the deepest, darkest, scariest depression, and get back to an even keel. My credit's already back to good in England, and next paycheck clears most of the American debt, while my empty credit cards are ticking away the bad US credit. It's all good. Life's all good.

To celebrate, I watched 'Harvey' and 'It's a Wonderful Life' again tonight with Besty and family in front of the fire. Jimmy Stewart is my favorite actor of all time and both movies make me cry. Check them out, and stay tuned for 'The Fix' when it launches...