The Hobbit Hole

So it seems like everyone gets to do fun things with there homes (Liz rearranges furniture, Auntie Boo paints everything, Mom has toyed with repainting the living room to match the family picture), and sometimes I get a little bummed that I can't do fun things in my apartment. I will be so psyched to live in a home I own, renting can be the pits sometimes. I could rearrange a little bit, but I'm scared to move my couch because one of its legs is a stack of textbooks, and I don't want to move my bed because it was such an adventure trying to get it where it is in the first place. Anyways, I've decided to have a little "open house" of my own, because I live in kind of a funky apartment, and no one but Scotty comes to visit me.

I live in "The Retro House", usually that's good, but sometimes it just reminds me that the house is old. There are between 5 and 7 guys living in the rest of the house, and they're pretty nice and not too loud, except when they have parties, but there's usually food at the parties, so they're alright). Right now the roses and other flowers are all blooming, which is pretty wonderful. I can just leave the windows open and it makes my apartment smell all flowery. (Unfortunately it also lets in all the conversation from nearby Kampus Korner (that's how they spell it, I hate it), which is currently being occupied by the super happy opera carnies). Anyways, I have a pretty nice little porch area, and a screen door being held together by duct tape (worse things have happened).

My living room is pretty standard, there's enough space for a couch, t.v. and my kitchen. I used to have a kitchen table up, but took it down to put up the Christmas tree, and never put it back up. I figure I'll use the table one day when I have someone over who would judge me for eating all my meals on the couch. Anyways, some fun features of this room: steam heating (which is also responsible for heating the rest of the apartment, a 311 mile marker (stolen from I-80 eastbound in Nevada (that highway is so boring it deserved to have it sign stolen) (also, I didn't steal it)), camping chair to be used when seating is scarce, industrial carpet that camoflages spiders, and fridge full of pictures of my super duper family. Space in general is sparse, the cupboards sometimes open by themselves because of they're packed with something (not necessarily food). I also have a super comfy couch that my mom recovered, the missing leg isn't such a bad thing. My dad cut the leg off trying to get the couch in or out of a door, and I think that's funny. For a while I was convinced that someone was sneaking into my apartment while I was out and changing the time on the clock in the living room, just to get me freaked out. I recently figured out that the second hand has trouble getting past the 9, which makes it slow, but not in any consistent way- pretty astounding detective skills if I say so myself. (That picture is my best "Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous" pose).

The bathroom is pretty awesome too. It's carpeted, which is really only an advantage in the winter because the floors don't get as cold. I recently went on a sink unclogging adventure and discovered the sink drain cover thing comes out, and that it was covered in hair and toothpaste, which prevented my sink from draining (which made it so everything I dropped in the sink ended up smelling very minty fresh).
I thought I'd put up the before and after, because I feel a little smart for figuring out the clog (I've wasted half a bottle of Drano on it already, but didn't need to call the fix-it guy, who incidentally lives in the other half of the basement here). Anyways, fun features of the bathroom include a cute little window that I thoroughly enjoy, an electrical outlet that only works when the light is on, and a tub with a poltergeist (I've haven't called the landlord about it, I'm afraid they would think I was being silly). It's not my favorite room in the apartment, but it all works and doesn't smell, so what more can I really ask for. (Fun story: when I moved into my very first apartment, my wonderful Auntie Boo told me to get a clear-ish shower curtain, that way I wouldn't have to worry about intruders hiding in my bathtub. Its some of the best advice she's ever shared (but not so good as "Don't sniff things" and "Bring your own gun to school").

The hallway and bedroom have lots of useful hooks for coats and backpacks and things. I don't know who thought of that, but I sure do like it. Especially because my closet is pretty near full. I really like my closet. It's much deeper than it is wide, and sometimes I think that one day when I go looking for a hoodie I'm going to end up in Narnia ("The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe" reference, get it?). It also has shelves to store shoe boxes on (I suppose you could store whatever you want there, but I'm genetically predisposed to hold onto shoe boxes).

My bedroom is pretty nice. I have managed to bond with the Pepto-pink carpet and rid it of most of the spiders. The really only big downside is that I can hear everything through the windows, and none of my neighbors seem to respect my no-talking-before-10a.m.-rule (probably because I haven't told them).
So that's my apartment in all of its glory. I call it the Hobbit Hole because it's rather small, the ceilings are kind of low (it makes anyone close to 6 ft tall look like Galdalf from "Lord of the Rings" when he's being scary), and because it's sort of hidden (the door is in the back of the house). But it's a term of endearment. More people should come visit me, and see my zoo, and buy cheese. (And I promise I'll try and not be as dorky as this blog has shown me to be).