For the past few weeks I’ve been on, what seems to be, a ceaseless hunt for the perfect apartment. My constant stalking of Craig’s List for the perfect apartment attributes, has given me a taste of the OCD life that I wish not to maintain. It’s become an obsession. I dream about apartments. I wake up to apartments (mostly because I live in one). This should be a right-of-passage to a city dweller. You know, just part of that sweet and cool and unnecessarily pricey lifestyle. However I’ve stalked Craig’s List like a middle-class, middle-aged white woman stalks the linen skirt she is about to steal from the department store. I mean, my right eye lid is starting to lose its elasticity and draws closer to my eyelashes to cohabitate in sagging harmony.
Seeing apartment after apartment after apartment has taught me many things. These are some of them:
1.) I’m ready to own a place: I know, I know, it’s so NOT bohemian and I should be writing a play, living in a questionable structure and heating coffee in a percolator. I’ve seen these places and the relics of this life, and I am not enthused. I really want to say I live a rocker/beatnik lifestyle, but with polished hardwood floors and stainless steel appliances. I want a cute furry little dog instead of the ever-popular pit-bull or bulldog. When I know that I can figure out how much it would cost me to own a nice place and compare it to my current rent, I shed a tear, one of joy. I CAN do this. I CAN. I CAN be a homeowner. Oh god, are the pleated khakis next??
2.) People are disgusting, in general: There is a scene in Good Fellas where they have to unbury a body and you see Ray projectile vomiting because of the stench of this decomposed mass. The lingering stench left by the tenants of some of these apartments is an indicator of future decomposition. Especially men. Men, with all do respect, there is a dudely smell that just hovers in whatever room in which you sleep. It’s not always bad, but it is always dudely. Point of the story is that I’m not really interested in living the remains of other filth. I like my own filth thank you very much.
3.) It is not good for your relationship: As if living together for the first time isn’t a daunting leap, now you have to barter and plan and negotiate for what the perfect space will be for (as my fiancé would say), “me to hide from you.” I’m sure it will be amazing and wonderful and an experience that clearly we are looking forward to. I just wish we could find the picture perfect apartment already to start our picture perfect life. I mean, I don’t think perfection is too much to ask.
4.) Vintage is not cool unless your age reflects vintage as well.
5.) Smokers are stinky.
6.) All bathrooms gross me out when I know that anyone could have piddle on and around the toilet. Yet I’m ok with picking up doggie doo for the duration of my future dog’s life.
7.) I’m ready to be done with it already.
