I should be accustomed to living as a nomad. Suitcases mostly packed, three steps from the door. And a car trunk certainly beats the coin lockers I used for so many weeks in Tokyo.

But I want a home base dammit - I have projects I want to work on, articles I want to write. So I've devoted this time, the June 2004 of my life, to searching for a house/loft/condo/apartment/former gas station to buy to live in.

In the meantime, I have to find a place to stay. As usual, Craig's List is the source of both opportunity and entertainment - sublets and temporary in Los Angeles. I found one guy offering a 27 foot boat to sleep on for only $500 a month. A chance to live near the water for the summer, cheaply, with adventure! I arranged a visit. After a firm handshake, he walked me out to the end of the pier. It was a fiberglass shell with a powerstrip inside - a grungy sleeping bag between a microwave, dorm fridge and a lamp. A cramped plastic room with minimal amenities, Scott said it reminded him of a capsule hotel.

The tiny cabin smelled a bit like "eau de dude" because my host had been sleeping there. "If you want to turn on the lights at night, just put some tinfoil over the windows. I don't want anyone to know that people are sleeping here." Stealth sleeping in a plastic coffin floating on the water, with tinfoil on the windows? Add the fact that the showers and toilets were a long walk to the dock, and there wasn't anywhere to hang up my clothes, and I decided I didn't need deprivation adventure or cheap lodgings that badly.

Instead I found a house in Venice Beach renting for about three times that much. Spending some of my money on some pleasant circumstances: a garden, jacuzzi, small bedroom in a larger house shared with a surfer. For only six weeks. Summertime adventure, while the daily drive for a long-term lodging continues. Bidding on a place in Echo Park today!