Thursday, November 19, 2009

Catalogs, Stolen Jeans, and a Crappy Kitchen


I ordered the Pottery Barn catalog today. I picked one up a couple months ago and was inspired by all the home designs and pictures. I love the way the pictures of the rooms feel. So cozy and home-y. I’ve written about this before. So today, I ordered a catalog to feel that again. This is also a big step because I never mail things to my apartment. The only things I get in the mail are bills. It is this subconscious thing I have about believing I can only subscribe to magazines and get wedding invitations at a permanent address (San Diego) and I somehow always know that I will never consider this living situation time of my life permanent.
I hate my apartment. Talking with my sister about what we were going to have for dinner and thinking of Thanksgiving dinner next week, I suddenly realized that a big part of the reason I rarely cook a real meal is because I literally hate my kitchen. It is more like a hallway. It has no counter space at all and even fewer cabinets. It’s not conducive to cooking at all, let alone baking! I have to make 30 Christmas cookies for my work Christmas party and I am dreading it because I hate my small kitchen. Okay, my mom is thinking as she reads this that I hate to cook in general, which is true, but I really really hate cooking at my apartment. My brilliant mom also mentioned that having a crappy kitchen didn’t stop Julie Powell or Julia Child from cooking.
My old apartment kitchen was perfect for cooking and baking and we four roommates did that all the time. We even hung out and talked in our kitchen and dining room. We loved it. That is not the case at our new place. Not to mention that our old apartment also had a washer and dryer included and this new place does not, which was my number one requirement for moving and sadly it did not come true. To make matters worse, on Monday someone stole my favorite jeans out of the community laundry room!!! Now I really hate my apartment and I am no longer afraid to admit it. If I lived in Texas I could afford to have my own house. I really want my own house. I want to know that I have roots. That I am settled. Apartments with roommates are a lot of fun, but do not make me feel settled. One day we will all move on. We will get married or get a new job in another city or move to a different country, etc. It will happen one day because it is supposed to happen for twenty-something’s. I get that. I get that apartments and roommates not being permanent is part of life, but I want to feel settled. If I had a house I would be committing to live somewhere for several years. I could paint walls red and yellow and blue. I could put a mural on a wall. I could buy furniture that I knew I wouldn’t have to move in a few months again. I could decorate a guest bedroom and buy new towels and bed spreads. I could even order Christmas pillows (see above picture) and comforters from Pottery Barn just for holiday decorating. I could buy cute dishes and a new dining room set. I’d love to own my own place by the time I’m 30. And when I do, I will hang a sign above the front door that says “Home Sweet Home.”

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