So, you want the good news first of the bad news first? Actually, there is no good news. After coming home from yet another verbal brawl with my mother, I drove up to an eyesore of a sign informing me of the impending demolition of my apartment building.

I live in a quaint, olive colored, 1930′s home that was converted into several units. It’s a beautiful old house filled with quirks and lots of charm. It’s cleverly located near shopping, theaters, Old Town Pasadena, the freeways, the metro rail, and tons of restaurants. It’s the perfect location. I pay $800 dollars a month which includes all utilities and parking. I don’t have a washer/dryer, but I always made due. I also don’t have a bath tub (standing shower only), but it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make for the location and cheap rent. It’s a dream. A dream shattered by over development.

I first came to Pasadena 12 years ago to meet my then boyfriend’s mother. I instantly fell in love with the city and knew that I would soon move there. I was ready to leave the dusty streets of Ventura County and set sail for a beautiful little town hidden by valleys and foothills. It’s home to the Rose Bowl where Depeche Mode’s famous 101 video was filmed. It’s home to the annual Rose Parade, Art Center, Cal Tech, and JPL. Route 66 passes through it’s East Side. It’s been mentioned in songs and countless movies have been filmed here. It’s glorious. And no wonder people flock to it’s gates. I did and I’ve never wanted to leave. Recently however, condos, like weeds, have sprouted up just about everywhere. Gorgeous old buildings torn down in the name of progress. Buildings that should have been designated historical landmarks are bulldozed. In particular, The Raymond Theater. This 85 year old gem of a theater is finally facing it’s final hours. After a bitter 15 year struggle, progress won in the end. Retail space and condominiums take precedence over history and art.

It’s sad. It’s sad that city officials scoff at sentiment and ignore the true wishes of the community. A community built on artistry, dreams, and parade floats. A community that prides itself on being the crown jewel of the San Gabriel Valley. For all it’s good, there has always been this underlying evil and greed. The rich congregate here because of it’s prestige. The city’s tree lined streets and the sweet smell of jasmine in the Summer time. A mild climate and picturesque view after picturesque view. It’s a nice place to raise a family and is home to more landmarks than most towns of it’s size. Artists congregate here because the air feeds our souls. It’s not affordable living, but we’ll pay the extra expense simply for the scenery.

I’ve lived here for 12 years. I love it. I’ve only once really considered moving, but ended up staying because I just couldn’t leave. More than the bleak streets of Oxnard (the place I grew up), more than any other place…this is my home. Home in every sense of the word. Comfort and calm. Peace and quiet. This apartment in particular was my first step into a world of my own. Without roommates, but with a lot of financial help to start. This is the apartment I drank myself to tears in over some dumb guy. This is the apartment my sweet cat Woobie lived in before he died. This is the only home my new kitten Matilda has ever known. This is the place where I finally came to grips with who I am and what I want to do with my life. This is where I found myself. This is the apartment I lived in when I met the man I’m going to marry. It’s a tiny place, shaped sort of funny. The walls crumble whenever I try to hang something and my bedroom isn’t big enough for two people. There’s mold in the bathroom and the toilet doesn’t quite flush right. I’ve complained about the ugly brown carpet since I moved in. There’s a lot wrong with this place, but all of that pales in comparison to the mountains I’ve moved while under it’s roof. This was my own little place. If I didn’t wash the dishes, no one would yell at me.

I’ll be here for maybe another year before I’m actually asked to leave. I’ve spoken to several of my neighbors and we all feel the same way. It’s sad, but what can you do? I don’t have the money to fight it and I don’t really want to. My boyfriend and I are looking for a house; a place we’ll share and start a new life together. This place has always been temporary, but now that I think about it, it’s been the adventure of a lifetime. I found myself here and now I find myself wishing I could stay. In a couple of years, this fine old house will be replaced with fancy new condos. It will cater to working professionals and yuppies. New residents will over pay for the clever location, reaping the benefits of walking distance entertainment. They’ll enjoy the new Whole Foods down the street and will get used to the dinging of the metro rail gates just blocks away. This town has changed forever. It will continue changing and so will I. Just as I’ve grown up here, so will Pasadena herself. She will blossom into some unrecognizable place until even I don’t know it anymore.