Man places to rent are so crappy

Okay so that title is, of course, a quotation from the blog of a fictional cartoon cat which I read religiously (Achewood, natch), and in fact, at least so far, it looks like places in London aren't so bad after all. In fact, it looks like my problem will be way too many places to choose from rather than too few. What with the University listings and the gay apartment listings (called "Outlet," get it?) I don't think I can even manage to wade through the normal classifieds (in a publication called Loot).

The biggest problem is that London is very very big, and really I don't particularly care where I live. (Also, each of the approximiately 50 bajillion neighborhoods has a ridiculous-sounding name, each more ridiculous-sounding than the last.) It would really be more helpful if, instead of the listings being divided up into headings like "Cricklewood," "Mudchute," and "Nunhead" (not making these names up!), the listings were rather grouped into headings like "Flatmate is manic-depressive," "Flatmate is emotionally needy." and "Flatmate is addicted to cocaine." Oh well.

The decision whether or not to live with gay men is a tricky one, since it might create as many problems as it solves. Of course, I've lived on my own for five years now, so I really have no idea what any of this is like. I've promised that I will make one phone call tomorrow, just to prove to myself that I can do it.