imagined adventures in moving

For the past week and a half I’ve been slowly and with substantial brusing transporting my various belongings approx. 500 feet down the hill to a different, quieter, shadier and altogether better apartment. For the first time since I moved here I feel like I have a modicum of control over my surroundings and therefore my life–I’m sure it helps that I am ABD now (although I’ve been taking some "time off" and when I actually get to work on my dissertation I’ll tell you how happy I am then), but I think it  helps almost as much to be in a home I actually chose, picked out myself, and–perhaps most amusingly–painted. Kandinsky’s house it is not, but my new room still looks kind of cool. It will be a little airier when I move my bookshelves downstairs in August (my current roommate actually owns furnishings; she is moving in with her sig other and unfortunately her comfy possessions are as well), and it’s not as big as my last room, but fuck it–my last room felt like sleeping in:

–the backlot of a bad porno
–the food court of a mall
–the epicenter of the apocalypse
–the storage closet of a meth lab

I lived with junkies, hookah-smokers, conspicuous consumers, fish-steamers…and below a constant din/ruckus/hubub. I now live with one roommate instead of two, my place has an upstairs and a downstairs, I still have my own TV so my Law & Order-watching proclivity remains my business, and nobody lives above me except the crows and God. Another interesting aspect of my new place is that I live approx. 45 feet away from Prof Awesome. I pretend this is the worst thing that has ever happened to me, but actually I haven’t even noticed it–plus it’s not like I lived twenty miles away before. If things go awry in the next two months life might be awkward, but again, probably not much more awkward than it would be otherwise (for a huge university this university is very small, ifyouknowwhatImean). But really it kind of feels like my dream scenario–if I had infinite control of my living situation I would live in a really cool yurt, and Prof. Awesome would live in his own cool yurt a little ways away, and we could visit each other whenever we wanted. So if you replace "yurt" with "mass-produced subsidized apartment that is slightly less shitty than the other mass-produced apartment I lived in before that also happens to be identical in layout to Prof. Awesome’s" then I’m set.

Anyway, here are some pictures of my new room setup. Try to imagine it without the horrible nighttime flourescent lighting (I replaced my bulbs like a good hippie–my responsibility to the environment outweighs the horror at my complexion under flourescent lighting–take that, Ann Coulter).


As you can see, I painted one wall bright turquoise, which is probably my favorite color (I don’t like having to pick favorite colors. My other favorite colors appear other places in this room.


That blue panel above my closet (as well as the yellow one to the right and the terra cotta one to the left) were painted using environmentally friendly clay paint I ordered from Green Planet Paints. Clay paint is really cool because it smells nice (and not paint-y), the colors are really vivid, and if it gets too thick you can water it down with…water.


Here’s another view of the turquoise wall, plus my ginormous nightmare of a dresser (yes I painted it myself, and it’s named after Brünnhilde from the Nibelungenlied because it, too, has evil superpowers of strength) which I am sure you can imagine was awesome to move up 3 flights of stairs (I had help). You can also see my awesome new compact flourescent lightbulb. Damn environment. I hate that fucking thing.

2 thoughts on “imagined adventures in moving

  1. Oh, I wasn’t allowed to paint, but I did anyway. That’s how we roll in the great higher-education conspiracy. Rebels. REBELS ALL.


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