My new apartment has been mine for about 4 days now, and we are getting along swimmingly. It's fun to get acquainted with new house-- its character is always fun to figure out. It's like making a new friend, and trying to describe her to someone else.
My old apartment was a sorority girl. Her name might have been Amber or Heather and she might have worn jeanskirts and danced on bars and flipped her hair to pout. My new apartment? She's old but has kick-ass vintage jewelry and her name could be Vera or Blanche. Shehas been known to indulge in too much port after dinner and has the habit of winking at handsome waiters.
My old place had no neighbors to be conscientious about. There was a set of Parrot Bay plastic margarita glasses left for us in a cabinet. The rug was grayish and the windows dirty. The price was right and the layout good for roommates. We had parties and once had a whole yellow cake with chocolate frosting smashed into our rug. We didn't care, it was a first apartment and we treated it as such. It was our savior when it was impossible to find housing. She was to us like the friend all the boys liked, and you hung around with her hoping that energy would rub off on you somehow.
The new place has welcome mats in front of each apartment. The hardwood floors gleam and my oven is retro-fabulous--totally Rachel Ray styles. I tiptoe around in socks now because I don't have rugs yet and don't want to stomp around to annoy those below. I have mopped and scrubbed this new apartment with yellow rubber gloves on my hands and knees to get this place clean. My silence is reverent and I have been watching a lot of jeopardy and have some old lady chic knitting projects coming down the pike. When I walk around I let one hand linger on the walls, trying to learn each corner and light switch's home
The difference has resonated with me immediately.
The problem with that is, frankly, that fretting about the proper furniture and decor does not a well-rounded girl make. Nor does this adult-old-lady-pipe dream where I am 24 and have a broom to scoot the riff-raff out the door. I have grout to scrub, a bedroom to paint, and curtains and pillows to sew. I want to do it all RIGHTTHISMINUTE, but I have no time for other things. Important things. I haven't seen friends regularly, and even had to wimp out at RUNJIT's birthday party because I was so tired I could barely converse, let alone bowl. I haven't written in ye olde blog in weeks. I haven't run in a week, and I hadn't slept in my own bed in a month. I have been drinking more wine.
So now is the fun part, I suppose. Game on. The exciting changes and balancing them with the activities of my old house. Turning the novelty of a new place into reality. But know this-- I totally kept those parrot bay glasses. For the kitsch factor, of course.