Archive for the ‘apartments’ Category
Help me design my apartment
There’s no medicine cabinet or storage in the bathroom of my new apartment and since the tile (which goes all the way up the wall) was just redone, the owners aren’t so keen on drilling into it. This means I’m looking at one of those over the toilet freestanding shelf or cabinet things which I never like because I feel like they’re unattractive and not very sturdy seeming. So I ask you, blog readers, have you seen any that you like? What would you do if it was your bathroom?
By the way, this is part one in a series of me asking you for advice on how to set up my new apartment. I was born without the shelf-hanging gene. Also, I have no idea what I like anymore. Midcentury modern? Shabby chic? Actually, I know I like shabby chic, I think I’m just slightly embarrassed to admit it. When I moved into my apartment in California I happened to walk by this second hand furniture store and they had all this distressed white wooden furniture and it was super cheap and at the suggestion of my roommate and friend who was quite handy and had a large car, I snapped it up. I miss that furniture which is currently sitting in my parents house in California since it didn’t make sense to bring it to NYC. When I moved here I bought new furniture which is okay but I don’t love it. It’s neither white nor distressed. It’s Mexican rustic, sort of. It’s large and wooden and it just isn’t me. But, I mean, I’m only talking about a desk, two nightstands or endtables and a dresser. The rest of the furniture for my new place I’m going to have to buy. Here’s what I’m thinking I’ll need:
a kitchen table
chairs
a couch or easy chair or both, plus ottoman since I enjoy flopping into a chair, putting my feet up and staying like that for about six to eight hours (I’m very active)
a coffee table
a media stand or thing to put my TV and cable box on
a microwave (that’s not technically furniture but at this point I’m just making a list)
a puppy
an armoire or freestanding closet or something since this apartment doesn’t have any built in closets which I know kind of sucks but it DOES have a dishwasher and boy do I love dishwashers
two rugs for two rooms which are about 12 by 12 each (one is more like 12 by 14 actually, I think)
Now that I’ve made this list I feel both more stressed and more relaxed.
Apparently I’m not the dinner partying kind
So I was talking to my mom earlier on the phone about apartments and I was saying that one was so small it was more like a dorm room than an apartment and you wouldn’t want to have people over and she was asking if you wouldn’t be able to have anyone over, not even one person, and I was saying that you could have one person over but you’d never want to have a dinner party.
At that point she kind of scoffed and chortled, she scfortled, as if I am not the dinner party type. I am SO the dinner party type and the fact that she can’t see my inner casserole dish and the oil and vinegar cruets behind my eyes—well that kind of hurts. If you stab me with a dinner fork do I not bleed? If you shove little corn poker things onto the ends of ears of corn does it not make them cuter? (it does! and easier to eat! not that I’ve had corn in a million years, but that’s beside the point)
Anyway, just because I haven’t entertained in a zillion years and just because I wouldn’t know human companionship if it came up and bit me on my agoraphobic tushy does not mean that I don’t know how to throw a fun fest for a few fancy friends.
And to prove it, I thought I’d detail the itinerary:
First my guests would arrive and we’d chit chat while assembling my furniture. Then we’d eat pretzels. Then we’d play dress up. Then we’d skip rocks. Then we’d take a nap. Then we’d help me lift heavy things and change any bulbs that are out that I can’t reach. Then we’d play sardines. Then I’d sing a song for everyone. Then we’d make a toast. Then we’d have quiet time where you could read or nap or color or play with stickers. Then we’d go miniature golfing or roller skating, I haven’t decided. Then we’d probably go out to dinner. Then we’d watch a movie on my home movie theater. Then we’d take funny photos. Then the shuttle would come to take everyone home.
See? I know dinner parties!
Sackett? I hardly knew it.
Today I looked at an apartment on Sackett Street and first I was thinking that Sackett sounds like something you do to someone or something, like Phuket, and then I was thinking that if I took it I could have ample opportunity for dumb puns like “Sackett to me!” and the more refined “It’s Sackett, to me.”
Thank God I didn’t take it when you really think about it.
Something I learned about apartments/real estate
The term pied-a-terre has nothing to do with gardens, apples, potatoes or feet! (It has to do with rich people!)
More Easy Pickles
Yesterday I wrote about how I misread a shop sign and thought it said “Easy Pickles” which I then imagined making frequent reference to when discussing running errands however just now I realized a couple more uses for Easy Pickles.
1) As a response to “cool beans.”
Person number one: I just bought these new Guatemalan pants
Person number two: right on
Person number one: cool beans
Person number two: easy pickles
Now, perhaps that’s not quite fair because in the above example both person number two and number one are of near equal levels of irritating as evidenced by the immediate use of “right on.” Here’s another, perhaps more realistic scenario:
Person number one: I’m going to check my mail
Person number two: cool beans
Person number one: easy pickles
2) As a passive-aggressive way to make someone feel vaguely self-conscious, along the lines of “easy, tiger!” but less playful, more insidious
Person number one: I’m going to eat some Cheetos!
Person number two: Easy, pickles!
Person number one’s inner monologue: “What? Did he just called me Pickles? I don’t get it. Should I get it? That’s weird. Do I eat too many Cheetos? What does that have to do with pickles? Do I smell like dill?”
For maximum mindfuckery I’d recommend tossing a THERE into it like this:
Person number one: I’m going to play xbox
Person number two: Easy there, pickles!
Today I was that a-hole with the camera
I wandered around Astoria today trying to see if would want to live there. Here are some photos from my journey.
In this first one I thought, “A pet store!!”
But then as I got closer I realized it’s totally not a pet store
And then here’s a cute street
And another
Here’s where you eat before you die:
Another cute street!
Some adorable whatever-they-ares:
And then back in Manhattan I discovered that Duane Reade is readying itself for bikini season
Easy Pickles
Today in Queens I passed a store called “Easy Pickins” but at first I thought it said “Easy Pickles” and I was imagining living near this store and how before long it would just become part of conversation and not even sound weird or funny to me when I talked about picking up my groceries at Easy Pickles or dropping off my clothes at Easy Pickles or getting my imaginary dog groomed at Easy Pickles. As is perhaps clear, I wasn’t sure what kind of establishment Easy Pickles would be, but I’m pretty sure I’d frequent it.
Then I had dinner with an ex in Brooklyn who casually let slip that to this day he remains a defender of my writing. Or maybe he said that he finds himself defending my writing. Whichever it is it just lodged in my brain like a grain of sand in an oyster, causing periodic discomfort and unleashing the full power of my ability to think the fuck out of something (defend my writing? what? who’s attacking it? no really, what did they say? huh? and the casual way you just tossed that off, as if I should know that people are openly disparaging my writing, as if perhaps I’m too sensitive for making an issue of this? I mean I guess that’s the price you pay for putting your words out there and as a writer I can’t expect that everyone is going to agree with me but it’s not like I’ve been courting controversy. Oh my God, do I really need approval this much? I don’t mean to make this all about me but can we back up and talk about that some more. No really, what?) and by the end of dinner I had a full-on brain pearl. I’m thinking of having it made into a tasteful brooch.
