Saturday morning and another open house. I moved into my place with Dan and Aaron in 2002 and three years and three roommates later...Here we go again. This buildng is filled with revolving rooms.
I love my little industrial shit hole. It has class
and yet, still resembles a college apartment struggling not to be overtken by Ikea, Craig's List rejects or fresh paint.
My roommate Greg just painted my bathroom and I'm surprised just how much the blindingly yellow walls pick up my spirit. They also do wonders for the glare of the incredibly painful, flaw-inflating flourescent lights in there.
I've felt this place was transitory for the three years I've been here and yet I am the only one who remains. Aaron took off to torment someone else at three in the morning , drunk and professing a crush. Dan, to the streets of Miami Beach with his fake tan, fake muscles (if you're reading this, I found some of the steroids you had hidden in the fridge) and fake sense of "all natural" (Natural? But you're a big fan of X, GHB and the aforementioned anabolics as well as your girlfriend's plus size tits!!??!).
Since then I've also lived with a Pre-op transexual in denial, a single Dad with two year old in tow and thankfully, Young Gregory, as I call him. He's has been the only remotely normal, not completely dysfunctional person I've lived with in NYC. (We won't get into his Craig's List addiction - he's seeking treatment).
Since I felt transitory I never bothered to really make myself at home. Oh sure there are knick knacks, candles and photos but the only room you're ever likely to find me in, is mine. It's the only space in this world that's truly mine (Oh wait, I'm a renter
). I eat, sleep, read, write, occasionally fornicate and cry all in this 10x11 space.
But it's time. It's time to move into my entire
apartment. To come home and actually eat in the kitchen, to watch tv or read in the livingroom and to stay out of my room until it's time to sleep or I need a good cry. (sex in the kitchen would be nice too.)
In an effort to claim this space as my home... a trip to Home Depot is in order. I plan to add my before and after photos and share with anyone bored enough to peruse, the transformation of apartment into home... and symbolically the transformation of my fearful, transitory mind into one that is secure and settled enough to really create
Wish me luck (and an increase on my credit line)
Potential projects include:
Draping the horrendous industrial lights/ceiling in the livingroom
Re-upholstering the couch sectional
Painting the lvingroom and kitchen
Sewing new pillow covers for pillow forms
Building one piece of unique furniture (most likely an end table)
Where are these people who said they were coming???