My happy home

Last year I mentioned the possibility of entering my apartment in the Small | Cool Contest.   I didn't get "moved in" enough to feel confident exhibiting my living space to the world, so I held off.  But I worked on my apartment here and there, and was ready to enter this year's contest; of course it helped that I was already in spring cleaning mode. I scrambled a bit to take and edit the photos and to create an easy floor plan, and got my entry in by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin. Yet sadly, my apartment wasn't selected for the contest. Still, I feel good about having entered at all -- my strong and courageous thing for April -- and I feel good about the little nest I've built these past 15 months. And I'm happy to share it with you here:

There are still a lot of things I'd like to do:

• 
  
  re-upholster the loveseat


• 
  
  turn my library card file into additional kitchen work/counter space


• 
  
  get rugs


• 
  
  design/furnish the patio


• 
  
  sew one last pillow cover

which is basically the list I had from last year! I also considered "upgrading" to a larger bed, but I'm just so darn comfortable in my little daybed, and I love my current layout -- it's so perfect for the very little time I actually spend here.  I've recently cleared some room for my round folding table, now in the corner; it just needs a spot of lighting to make it fully functional. In reality, however, I spend most of my time on the floor, near the coffee table that also serves as my dining table, desk, and craft surface.

Nevertheless, I would love to hear any comments (and criticisms), as there's always room for improvement and beautification. Lemme know what you think!

Arranging the arts

In a fit of enthusiasm about the Small|Cool thing, I woke up Saturday and immediately began sorting through, re-framing, and arranging my art:

[art]

They're eclectic pieces, mostly sentimental -- and with a definite Japan bias -- including:

• a tourist map of where I lived in Japan,


• my name calligraphed in Japanese characters,


• the character for "love" -- written by a second-grader (with her mom's help, but still!),


• various happy sayings sent by my Japanese mothers,


• a picture of my youngest brother, along with his "metamorphosis" art project,


• a photograph I purchased in support of a photographer friend


• a poem composed by my Japanese father (a literature student at Kyoto University) and calligraphed by my Japanese mother (a calligraphy instructor)


• a drum painted by someone on my taiko team


• Maui's hook, a souvenir of New Zealand from my parents


• a baby picture of yours truly

This is most of the art that I own (20-25 pieces); it all needs to be spread across my apartment; and I don't want to spend any money (although I want to add a picture of my mom and other family members).  So they won't end up in the configuration pictured.  Right now everything is placed across the only stretch of open space I have in my studio.  Because I'm an excellent starter but not a stellar finisher, I hope this "method" works to annoy myself into hanging everything onto the walls sooner rather than later.

Small Cool 2011

Apartment Therapy has just announced the official start to this year's Small|Cool contest.  The entry deadline is the 20th.  Will I be able to "finish" my apartment before then so I can enter?  Not sure yet.  Here's what I'd still like to do:

• Replace vertical blinds with curtains


• Sew pillow covers


• Hang art


• Complete bathroom mat


• Work on lighting


• Acquire patio furniture

Think I can do it?  I think it would be fun!  I think I might try!  I welcome thoughts and suggestions (although I will admit that I do have a vision in mind, and when that's the case I can be very stubborn indeed.  But I'm totally up to hear other points of view)!

Apartment: glimpse

This weekend marks a month since I've been in my new apartment -- how time flies!  The main vision for the floor plan was in mind even after the first time I'd seen the place, so it was easy to come in, build what needed to be built, and shift (push, pull, pivot, drag atop towels) the larger pieces in place immediately.  My brothers helped me move and those five carloads made it seem like I have so much stuff, but once pieces got put in place and boxed items went into shelves and closets, I ended up with quite a bit of open space. (Still, I decided that, my next transition will involve professional movers.)  I forgot to take pictures when the apartment was totally empty and it didn't occur to me to take any until I'd already started to build my daybed (the daybed I wanted!), so here are the visuals starting from then:

    
[moving in, view of main room from entry]

    
[moving in, view from back sliding glass door; view of kitchen from main room]

    
[moving in: bed made, books shelved, bananas bought]

My desk is right behind the daybed; I prefer to 'float' my furnishings instead of anchoring them to the wall.  It makes me feel more grown up.  And desk-wise, it's nicer to have a view of the room and patio instead of a wall, no?  The tough part is cords (computer, printer, the lamp I need but don't yet have) across walking areas.  When I build my own home, I will install tons of floor outlets!  There's a story behind every piece of furniture I own, which I'll tell you one of these days.  One of the first large items I had moved was the refrigerator.  I had doubts about it being in the middle of the 'dining area,' but the shelves next to it anchor the fridge more to the 'cooking side' while creating a nook (along with more storage) as well as a more defined eating area. 

Since these pictures (taken on the first and third nights, respectively), there's been some tweaking in the details, but the apartment remains much the same.It's only my third week of living here, so I'm still tweaking things here and there, still making plans.  

My main issues are the lack of light the apartment gets (obscured by the projecting patio of the apartment above, an overgrown and shedding ficus tree, and the large apartment building directly over the wall), and the competing wood shades in my furnishings (bed, coffee table, side table, desk, have you seen the kitchen? Wood cupboards, wood laminate countertop, wood vinyl floor tiles! OMG).  I have smaller fights to pick with the sad-looking fixture that provides most of my light (hints in the bottom two right side photos), the bleh berber carpeting (anyone know a good rug source?), and the bathroom, which is humongous. Oh, and the patio.

I'm totally looking forward to making this place my own, on my terms and within the confines of my budget.  Finally, all that time I spend lurking on Apartment Therapy is coming to use!  I'm all up for suggestions, too, so feel free to chime in!

Business, again

I went to see another apartment, knowing from the walk-up (it was a big building about a block from a freeway ramp) that it probably wasn't the one for me.  But it wouldn't hurt to see.  After a brief look around, I told the owner/manager that although it was a nice place (lots of natural light) and would be great for someone, it didn't quite fit my needs: no off-street parking, and slightly out of my price range.  She said she couldn't really do anything about the parking (I'd be put on a list and be advanced when current spotholders moved out) but asked me about my range and was willing to decrease the rent to fit into my budget.  Especially after I told her that at my last place, I got over 100% of my deposit back (the owner wanted to keep some of my improvements). Pretty good!  But, having learned my lesson, I maintained that the parking was important to me and so, unfortunately, I was ultimately not interested.  We thanked each other, and I took off.  No sweat!

I decided to just drive around the neighborhood and spot-check another apartment I had eyed on CL.  When I parked across the street, though, I saw a sign that said, "For Rent: Studio," along with a phone number.  I shrugged my shoulders, thought, "Pourquoi pas?" and dailed the number.  The resident manager answered, was available to show the unit, and had a one-page info sheet about the studio to hand me right away.  He showed me the grounds first because the current occupant was there and in the process of moving.  24-hour access laundry room.  Swimming pool.  Not just off-street parking, but an assigned spot in an underground, gated lot.  With a three-feet deep storage space.  When I finally came in to see the studio, there was no more furniture, just a few boxes.  And it was perfect.  Like, really perfect: well planned, a good amount of space -- even a private patio.  The occupant also offered to answer any questions (he had finished med school; had lived there four years; loved it; thought the management excellent; had no problems; an overall glowing review).  Oh, and did I mention that it's within walking distance to the Metro (where there's a weekly farmers market), Trader Joe's, the library, cafes and restaurants, antique shops, yoga studios (and even a yarn shop, which, unfortunately, I don't like it very much)?!?!  I submitted my rental application, got okayed, and moved in last weekend.  (I meant to post this sooner, but I spent most of last week coughing up a pound of phlegm.  Anyhow, I moved!)

Of course I stayed up much later than I should have -- even though I was/am still sick! -- arranging furniture, clothes, books, yarn; lining shelves; eyeing rugs online; and even afterwards, in bed, dreaming up mental images.  It's coming together nicely.

I'm becoming a grown-up again!

Business

Confession:  one of my guilty pleasures is Craigslist.  I am always trolling for my dream apartment, wonderful mid-century-get-it-for-a-song piece of furniture (for said apartment or for my awesome future home), or something I totally don't need.  Like an RV (blame it on the summer issues of Sunset magazine).

I started looking -- seriously, this time... well, sort of -- for a daybed a while ago.  Because I can't afford won't pay for the one that I want, and because I don't want to buy new. 

Then I found a daybed.  Not the one that I originally wanted.  But one that was okay. And it fit my style more than all the other daybeds listed (white curved heart frames, ceramic finials, wood and iron combos -- no no no).  And it was cheap.  So I went for it and contacted the poster.  We traded emails, phone calls, and texts during the week, and I made arrangements for my brother to drive out with me to look at it.  By the time we got there I already felt like I had to buy it: to make the (long, traffic-ridden) trip worthwhile?  Because after three or four emails I already felt so invested in the piece?  And guilty over my brother's and the seller's time?  I told myself that I was helping  out the sellers, who had bought it, probably impulsively, for their baby (who still fits in her crib), and who were selling their house.  Besides, it was less expensive than it would have been had I bought it retail (at Ikea).  They're entirely acceptable reasons, and I did end up buying it, but in that self-imposed guilt or sense of responsibility or whatever, I forgot that the purchase was solely for me and that I should have given the choice entirely to myself -- my wants, not just my needs.  I should have asked:  Do I really want this?  Is it worth it?  Can I negotiate for a lower price?  Do I have to commit to it at all?  Rather, I ended up justifying a "for me" purchase with "for them" reasons. 

I'm not beating myself up too much over it.  After all, it's just a piece of furniture.  That I like.  And will use.  And was cheap.  And can be resold.  Yet the whole episode made me realize that, despite trying to change with this year's resolutions theme, I simply don't love myself that much.  And that I'll settle, while putting others -- even strangers -- ahead of myself.  It's humility taken to the extreme.  Which can't be very healthy.  This stark realization has been a good wake-up call; I intend to be more aware of and conscientious about my self and my decision-making.

Which brings me to the bigger things. Like finding a new apartment.  For the past few weeks I've been looking here and there (on CL of course) and even made some inquiries and gone to see some places.  Some sort of (internal, probably totally fabricated) voice is pressuring me to hurry up and make a decision.  So no one else beats me to a certain apartment.  Because something better might not come up.  And is there such thing as an ideal apartment anyway?  I chatted with the owner of one building and established a good rapport, so although the apartment itself is not ideal, I went ahead and turned in an application. So no one else beats me to it.  Because something better might not come up.  And because the owner and I are best friends now, right? 

OMG it's happening again.

The day after I turned in the rental application, the owner called me because I'd left off some information (I always wait for them to ask, just to make sure it's absolutely necessary).  I said I'd get the info to him and thanked him for his quick response (because we're best friends now, right?) and he replied, "Sure, 'course, it's business.  This is what I do."

*DING*

The chime rang so loudly.  So clearly.  We are NOT best friends.  I didn't wow a potential landlord over with my personality.  He is looking to see if I my tenancy will be a good financial decision.  And the sooner he verifies my info, the sooner he knows the answer, and the sooner he can either move on to find another tenant, or move me in and start collecting rent.  It's business.  Work.  A job.  His job.  NOT mine.  My job is to find an apartment for me.  Because I'll be the one living there.  So I'd better do what's best for me. What a concept, right?  But it was a HUGE leap for me.

Instead of rushing to get the  information to him as soon as possible (to make his life easier), I am slowing down and asking myself what I want vs. what I can settle with or without.  And:  Do I really want this?  Is it worth it?  Can I negotiate for a lower price?  Do I have to commit to it at all?  Not only am I asking, but giving myself time to think about the answers:  I'm not sure.  I'm not sure (leaning towards no).  Probably.  Nope! 

I feel so liberated!  I am continuing to look at apartments, making the effort -- emailing, calling, texting, getting in my car and driving all over town etc. -- and taking steps towards the change I want to see in my life.  I am upfront with myself and the owner/manager if an apartment is out of my price range or does not meet my needs.  I am not taking an application unless I am truly interested (my car and the environment thank me).  The internal, probably totally fabricated voice is getting fainter. And there is no guilt.  And it's only January, friends. 

Ok, back to Craigslist. (Just kidding.  Sort of.)

A short sayonara

[apartment, emptied]

I took today off to ensure enough time (and energy!) to finish well before handing in my keys.  Got there about 10:00 to pack the last carload and get my clean on, with a midday appointment for the final walk-through.

The landlord arrived first, with his handyman; his wife came about 15 minutes later. I was still cleaning the stove (baking powder works like a charm!) and giving the kitchen cabinets a last wipe-down.  They didn't stay long, and from what I could make of their conversation, were preparing for the new tenant.  That's cool.

I came downstairs about an hour later, and my landlady was ready to give me back my full deposit, plus some extra for the bathroom mirror I added.  Wow, that's never happened before!  She said goodbye and good luck, I got in my car and drove off.  And that was it.

It was so brief.  Yet so... final.  And I make that observation because the very reason I'm leaving is in order to prepare for a lifelong relationship.  A kinda interesting contrast.

Fresh out of college, or soon thereafter,  or years after, I would have written a very melodramatic post about such an incident.  But age, experience, and being closer to God leave me okay with relationships that come to an end (though I suppose the contractual, business nature of this one is less emotional than the end of a friendship would have been).

I no longer feel the need to chase after people, to keep in touch with every single person I ever met.  I like being free -- in both my heart and my calendar -- to pursue new interests that lead to new friendships, or simply free to greet (i.e. not be annoyed by) the day's encounters.  And I like the fact that saying goodbye to those who know God is only really a "See ya later" untnil we will meet again on the true side of eternity.

Besides, saying goodbye to my landlords means saying hello to the life that lies ahead!  Onwards!

Starting backwards

It seems strange that my first entry is about my last days here. In this apartment. Where I've lived for 13 months. On my own. For the first time since Japan [eight years ago]. But it makes sense to me to look back. Before I go forward. To search within. Before I seek out.

The decision to move out on my own (read: no more roommates) was a tough one, especially when it came to finances. Could I afford 1.5x what I was paying in rent? Would it be worth it? And -- crazily -- Should I just move home and save $$$? Despite my BFF's advice, 'Peace of mind is priceless,' the reality of my financial situation (let's call it 'puberty' rather than 'immaturity') made that harder to put into practice... But I did it. Chose the apartment that was $50 cheaper and closer to family to boot; packed up and shuttled boxes by the carload, and with the help and heft of family and friends, moved in to my very own one-bedroom apartment.

And I've loved it.

From setting up my tabletop burner for a quick fix before the gas was turned on,

[first meal: popcorn]

to furniture configurations and reconfigurations (made easier to do on a whim thanks to hardwood floors),

[living room, initially]

to putting up art and holiday decor,

[living room, bedecked]

to growing a windowsill garden and, in the last four months, adding a desk and getting the best living room set up

[living room, perfected]

it's truly been a great experience of living on my own. I've enjoyed the freedom of not always having to be neat as well as the responsibility and joy of creating a home and haven for myself. I was also really lucky to have mom n' pop landlords who were responsive (they replaced a ceiling fan, installed a hood over the range in a weekend, and put up shelves and art at a phone call's notice) and also grateful to have a low-maintenance, clean tenant.

I learned a lot over the past year here. To enjoy cooking more. To try new things. That I like change every now and then. That classical music over brunch on weekends is delightful. That south facing light is the bomb.

Funny how, as I'm packing up, the apartment looks so much like it did when I moved in: boxes every which way and lots of empty floor space. I'm happy that some of the improvements I made (that entry mirror used to be in the bathroom, before I replaced it with a proper cabinet) were happily embraced by my landlord and will remain for the new tenant; I like the idea of leaving a place a little nicer for the next person. Before I leave, though, here are a few more images of my apartment as it was for me.

[craft corner; that top wall shelf stayed, too]

[living room: ode to japon]

[entry: scarves + sandals = so california]

[bedroom, corner]

[bedroom]

[bedroom, closets]

I leave this place with the last of my belongings (from the fridge), exhaling with satisfaction over the time I've spent here. Ready for what's ahead. Onwards!

Lights + leaves

In a rare moment of being ahead of the game, I brought home an old bag of twinkle lights (found in my storage unit, aka my folks' house) and spent some time before Thanksgiving putting them up.  I slid three strands through a binder ring and hung it from my ceiling.  Ceiling hooks are da bomb.

DC and I had some free time before his mother's birthday banquet last Sunday, and we took advantage of it by going for a nice, long walk.  The liquidambars are finally coming into their peak of coloring round my parts, so, inspired by Rachel's (she must live in a different part of SoCal to have had them so early!), I collected a bouquet.  Tucked them into the wiring of the lights.  Et voila.

I will enjoy these for another week or so until I they are replaced with the ornaments and snowflakes which I am still preparing.  For now, autumn leaves are perfect.

Lantern bouquet

I had a few lanterns left over from the Family Fiesta, and initially thought to keep them for future use.  As I was sorting them out to put away, though, an idea came to mind.  About half an hour of fidgeting with placement and security I had a satisfactory arrangement, which now hangs in a corner of my bedroom.

[leftover lantern bouquet]

To knit or not to knit?

Coming home from Maui--yes, I know: two weeks ago--I was met with red lines of fire and black smoke in the San Gabriel Mountains (set to be contained this weekend) on the drive back home, and, opening my door, a layer of dust over the entire apartment--and the retrofitting is still not quite finished.  I've been living out of my laundry basket, growing  an expensive pile of dry cleaning, and--having forgotten to take out the trash before going to DC's last weekend--am dealing with a mini swarm of fruit flies in my kitchen.  That's just the tip of the iceberg, friends.  I'll be back when I can finally clean, and the dust is swept away for good.

In the meantime, here's something I saw in Sunday's paper that made me smile:

To knit or not to knit: Is it rude in a crowd? -- latimes.com

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Real life

These days DC is on his summer researching and writing schedule, and is thus spending more time at his place -- which means that I have reverted back to my nocturnal and "spread out" ways.  So much for pretty posed shots, friends.  Today I show you how I really live!  Are you ready?!

Cleanliness-wise, DC and I are pretty much the same.  However, he is much, much tidier than me.  For him, everything has its place, from whence it comes when needed and is returned when not in use.  Not so much with me.  I am working on so many different projects (chores, duties) at once, and I like to have  it all in arm's reach.  And I'm okay with piles.  In witness thereof:

Days apart from DC are those that I give over openly and nearly entirely to my hobbies (the one's he's not so interested in) -- namely, knitting and ninjas.  Here I am winding yarn for a new project, while watching my favorite anime series with my laptop hooked up to the flatscreen (no messing around here!).  Perfect, especially with no-thinking stockinette stitch!  Now, all I need to figure out is how to hook the audio so it comes out of my flatscreen, and not the wimpy laptop speakers.  My brother got me the audio cable, and I plugged the red and white ends into the flatscreen (Audio in section) and the other end into the earphone jack on my laptop, but no luck.  Any tech-savvy helpers out there?

[Good thing I can't afford that Eames LCW chair yet -- lots of room for the drying rack and ironing board!]

I also use the time apart to do my more time-consuming chores.  Like laundry.  And hand washing.   And air drying.  And ironing.  Goodstuff.

Don't be afraid, friends!  It doesn't stay this way for (too) long.  The apartment blows up during the week, but I'll make sure to do a thorough clean (dusting, sweeping, taking out the garbage, etc.) before the weekend.  Because I feel like weekends are their own entities.  So they deserve their own space for a new mess. 

 Onwards to more productive lazy days!

More old apt. pictures

I decided that I don't need the internets at home so cancelled my service when I moved to my new apt.  Since then I've been blogging in my mind, jotting drafts in my journal, and uploading at work.  And I'm taking pictures on two different cameras, so it's a juggling act to remember which pictures are on which memory stick.  DC has a mobile wireless device that he leaves with me when he's not using it, but it's been acting kinda wonky these days, so we've opted not to use it rather than be frustrated about it.  Needless to say, then, technical difficulties abound these days.  Luckily, I've been saving this post in draft form for such a rainy day.  In lieu of all that I've been doing these days (not a whole lot, admittedly), I give you more pictures of my old apartment.

Last time I showed you pix of the common areas.  Voila the private areas--my bedroom and bathroom! 

Here's my old desk area, next to the east facing window.  The table is one of my best purchases ever from Ikea.  It's solid wood and collapsible for storage, the perfect writing desk and small dinner table--alas, it's no longer available.  Could do with a refinish.  Maybe this summer.

  

Here's where I used to sleep.  But if you know me, you also know that this was also my work station.  Books, yarn, stationery all within arm's reach.  Sometimes they even shared the bed with me!  Yes, the bed's at an angle.  I decided that centering it on the wall meant a lot of wasted space, but didn't want to square the bed up into the corner (too college dorm room style for me).  Now that I'm looking at it here, I'm thinking that my current setup could use a similar refresher to open up the room a bit more...

 

The closet, which I tried my best to keep organized by color.  As you can see, I am a firm believer that a gal can never have enough pairs of black trousers.  In the move I purged less than a dozen pieces from my wardrobe, but I think I can do better this summer.  Would like to add more purples, by the bye...

And finally, the bathroom.  Luckily, the old apt. had 1 3/4 bathrooms, so I didn't need to share.  I made this my "Japan room" by putting up all the gifts I'd received from various friends over the years.  The one you can see up close here (in the cubby above the toilet) is most dear, hand-painted by a friend and taiko team member.  Over on the wall are a Japanese translation of Psalm 121:8 ("the Lord will watch over your coming and going now and forever more"), gifted by the pastor's wife on a missions trip; a framed calendar; cute Japanese sayings; and a message on a photograph from a very good friend, given to me the first time I left Japan.

Reminiscing with these photos reminds me that my new place, although already dear to me, still needs a lot of work to really reflect me!  Luckily my landlord will put up my art for me (they want it done their way, it's an old building), so I'd better get to arranging it soon!

And yes, this is still primarily a crafting blog.  I've haven't been particularly successful of late, but will post an update as soon as technologically possible!  Byefornow (but not for long, mehopes)!

4 p.m. - 10 a.m.

Before regular sleeping hours, on a free evening, one can:

• balance a checkbook (even after years of not looking at a register)


• draw a rudimentary but fairly accurate floor plan of one's new apartment

• reorganize one's kitchen a bit better

• cook a just-what's-in-the-fridge dinner (egg noodles and bok choy stir-fry)


• wash the dishes (doesn't always happen the same night, don't tell my mom)


• overturn a pot of succulents and break them all (but replant tips and keep fingers crossed)


• wash a skein of newly acquired secondhand yarn

• paint one's toenails; and


• fix and restore photos to previous blog posts.

Then, when a bout of insomnia has one tossing at 3 a.m., one may decide to get out of bed at 3:30 and:

• organize mail, coupons, and receipts


• wind leftover and stray yarn into balls


• clean off the coffee table


• finish a sock; and

• still get two hours of sleep.

After waking up and getting ready, one may even have time to take photos of some accomplishments before leaving for work. This may cause one to miss breakfast and be 10 minutes late, but, in any case, one may start the second sock on the bus.

And, if one, is lucky, one may find a trail bar in one's desk drawer, and be blessed by coffee and strawberries from a coworker.

What an incredible 18 hours for one!

Progress: kitchen

After the initial furniture placement (which I'm already reconsidering), my unpacking priority has been the kitchen. This has involved wipe-downs and once-overs, as well as lining shelves and surfaces, before taking anything out of boxes.

It's always fun for me to start organizing from scratch. I am trying to make the most of the space available in what is a slightly awkward cooking area.

One challenge is the dearth of counter space. I've decided to keep the dishrack under the sink when not in use, but I don't know how that will work long term. Although it will give me more counterspace, it might also mean that dishes start piling up in the sink when I'm cooking (I usually like to wash all the prep stuff as I go).

The color scheme also irks me, just because it's not the best paint job, and the colors aren't really my style. I would much prefer a neutral palette that I can add bursts of color to. In this particular kitchen, I think all white cabinets would open up the space. Or, for a bit of dimension, a less dramatic color would be more fitting than the red -- perhaps the grayish color in the dining nook. I thought about removing the cabinet doors, but fear that exposed goods may make it look more cluttered. Still thinking about this.

There's a lot of open space above the cabinets, and I'd like to do something here -- but not fill it up with *stuff*. I put my spider plant up there by the window, but it actually started to yellow and die!

I really enjoy the nook/booth, though. For one thing, it removes the necessity for a dining set (my old one is at My Supernova's now). It adds a bit of prep space, too. I am thinking of a collage on the wall, maybe my smaller Japanese ones? Or finding an antique mirror? I'll definitely need padding for the bench, as well. Am thinking something red, maybe striped, to coordinate with the kitchen.

Things are happening, peeps! The other day I finished lining the cupboard and unloaded all my glassware. I think most things are where I need them to be, intuitively and for maximum efficiency.  All that's left is for my gas to be (re)connected, which should happen sometime today.  Huzzah!

Embrace the space

Despite the ill-timedness of being out of town just in between moving out and in, and the sometimes-shock of coming home to a place that is not yet home, I am learning to adjust. Fortuitously, it is the middle of Apartment Therapy's Spring 2009 Home Cure, as well as its Smallest Coolest home contest. Which means as I unpack and settle in I can find inspiration by peeking into other people's homes.

Having been a fan of AT for years now and having seen what wonders people can do with different spaces, I have often thought that I can live in under 500 square feet. But when I saw what 500 square feet looked like in person, I knew I couldn't. Of course, layout was an important, make-or-break factor. I went to see the cutest Craftsman studio cottage (the kind where it's three of the same units on either side of a driveway or courtyard), which was lovely on the outside and had the added benefits of no shared walls and room for gardening. But when I went inside, I found a closet that was more like a mini-room, half the size of the main living/sleeping area! The kitchen was so narrow that the fridge had to be relegated to the dining area, adding awkwardness to an already small space. Had the it been more of an open plan, the entire 450 s.f. studio would have had much more potential. If the layout reflects the time period, I really wonder how peeps back in the day lived!

I looked at a couple of studios, too, about 350 s.f. Good grief! Even unfurnished, I felt claustrophobic in them. And I knew that there's no way all my stuff would fit in there. Then I see beautiful, functional living spaces on AT that are less than that, and I am in utter awe. Then, I am humbled.

And then, I proceed to feel guilty about all the space I take up. Now that my things are getting put in their places and there aren't boxes taking up most of the floor, I am finding that there is a lot of room in my apartment -- which increases my guilt-- and that I probably could do with a smaller (and cheaper) place.

I could go crazy thinking and overthinking. But then I realized (all over again): the lease is signed, this place is mine, and -- darn it! -- I am going to enjoy it and make the most of it! So I will do as my post title says and Embrace the Space.  OffIgo!

Carloads

DC and I have come up with a moving system whereby he takes the boxes from the car and up the stairs, and I move them from there down the L-shaped hallway into the apartment.  It's a pretty good system, and we've got it down pat after two or three carloads. 

  

Yet, we're both working, and because his schedule's more irregular than mine, he can't always help me during the week.   He's left the garage door opener for me on his late evenings, and I've managed on my own (with the help of the dolly). When I can fill the front passenger seat with my *stuff*, fold the seats down and push those boxes all the way in, I must say I'm pretty impressed at how much can fit into one carload. See for yourself!

These are two separate loads. I wanted to show you how it all looks in my car (with *stuff* in the front seat, as well as in the rear passenger foot areas!) and what it looks like all laid out. I was particularly pleased with the load pictured on the right, which includes -- at least -- all my larger art pieces (against the wall), all my books (two boxes and two bacpacks), three comforter-bags-full of yarn, two boxes of stationery, one plastic crate-full of fabric, four smaller boxes of glassware, my sewing box, typewriter, and tools. *phew!* And it took me exactly an hour from my arrival at the garage to depositing everything in my new living room. *flexes*

Now, to actually unpack...

*stuff*

Living near my parents is a mixed blessing when it comes to *stuff*. On the one hand, I have extra storage space to put all the things I don't need but don't want thrown out. And as I come to need any item (or just want it around), it's a matter of a 15-minute drive to retrieve it. Over the years it's been more of the latter than the former. So you can see that, on the other hand, occasional car trips--a vacuum cleaner here and a few books and albums there--really add up to a lot of *stuff * over the years!

Packing to move was a real process. I brought smaller, more manageable boxes home from work. Somehow, I thought all my *stuff *would fit in a half dozen of them. Then my stationery alone took up two! So I brought home more boxes. And then more, just in case. And I used them all (about 24? or more?). And I brought home the dolly.

DC -- and, at least twice, his parents -- helped me move the packed boxes from my apartment to the purgatory of his garage. A longer process because it involved stairs. Man, I wish I'd taken a picture of everything that got put there; altogether, I'd say that all my *stuff* is the size of a sedan. (DC would say that's an underestimate. Che!)

When we got back from D.C. on Sunday, we stopped off at his place and picked up only the basics of toiletries and clothes for the work week. He's actually encouraged me to take my time and go through everything, to eliminate the *stuff* I don't need instead of truckin' it over to my new place. I think that's pretty good advice.

And I admit: I don't need the box full of empty Japanese confections boxes (but they're so pretty, and I can wrap my knitted gifts in them, and it's so wasteful to throw them out!), and I should work on hemming and repurposing the pile of old clothes, and the yarn does need to get knitting into something.... And there's other *stuff* that I don't use on a daily (or monthly, or yearly) basis, but that I don't want to get rid of. Albums and scrapbooks. Handwritten letters. Really nice dishes and vases purchased abroad (and painstakingly taken back home). Do I make space for them in my apartment and lug them around with me each time I move? Do I leave them at my parents' place? Do I "go digital" (scan, save to external hard drive, and toss)? Or do I get rid of things I am not using At. This. Moment. and be forced to buy again and perhaps more expensively when I need them again?

What do you, or would you, do?

Leaving

I have been in this apartment exactly three years, seven months, and three days. It's been a good time -- the longest I've lived in one place as an adult. And although I like the place itself, I'm not down with the roommate thing any longer. It's time to grow up, time to be on my own, time for change. *nods resolutely*

Moving is one of the biggest change-bringers that can happen to someone (or that someone can enact), don't you think? Knowing that, and knowing myself, signing a one-year lease brought my commitment issues to the fore. But now that it's signed, I am -- ironically -- feeling quite free. The lease will automatically become a month-to-month contract after one year so I'll still have the option of continuing to live in the apartment. But I will also have the freedom to find another place if I feel like it, or if life moves me elsewhere. In that regard, the one-year lease has come to feel like a countdown.

Before I start, however, I feel it fitting to post about the place I'm leaving. I dug around in my photo archives and found these from last year. I took them to post on Craigslist when I was looking for a new roommate. And because I always limit my CL searches to the ones with photos, I did my best to take photos that I'd want to see if I were looking for a place. What do you think? If you saw these pics, would you want to live here (or at least see the place)?

Living room - The sofa and coffee table that I lurve. (My brother is keeping the matching loveseat for me.) The square table is from Ikea and was my former dining table, until I decided that my guests and I need more back support! The leopard pillows were sewn by my BFF, Myko. The octagon table was inherited from another BFF, M2. The lamp is stolen a gift from my parents. The zabuton (floor cushion) and dish are from Japan. So nice to be surrounded by the things one loves!

The LR from another angle. Those eastern windows bring in a lot of morning light! Here you can see my dad's flatscreen, which is such a delicious upgrade from my old TV (covered in sarongs in the corner, and since given away), both in appearance and resolution quality. Over to the left you'll see the microwave and toaster oven on a cart (w/o wheels) to free up counter space in the kitchen. I sold them all to my roommate when we parted ways. I now have a hand-me-down toaster oven, but am trying to live microwave-free. The red and white bag is really strong because it's made of woven packing strips! I got it in Vietnam. It's the best thing for carrying beers and bottles of wine.

From the LR looking into the dining area and kitchen. The dining set is the only furniture I've ever purchased. I got it from Craigslist. Unfortunately, it's a reproduction and not a vintage 50s set. I also got the bike from CL; it's from the early 70s, older than me! Maybe one day I'll actually ride it...

Here's a view from the entrance, looking through the kitchen into the dining area. It was hard to really have any sort of theme in this space since I couldn't do anything with the cabinets, but I appreciated that they were plain (no hardware or carving). I accented all the brown by lining the shelves in red (even though it was't visible), putting a red rug under the sink, and having a red kettle and red towel rack. Brown and red is a nice combo.

I'm looking forward to the new configuration of these pieces in my new apartment.  And I'm looking forward to the fresh start of moving.  See you there!

Hunt for housing

When I moved in to my current apartment, my then-roommate handled everything.  Her brother had found the ad in the paper; she and her mother called, went to see it, and spoke to (i.e. schmoozed) the manager; there was another appointment so that I could see it; and within the next week, we'd signed the lease.

Three and a half years--and three and a half roommates--later, I've learned a lot about living with another person.  After deciding to part ways with my current roommate at the end of January, embarking on finding a place for just me has been exciting indeed.  I admit, however, that there has been a pretty steep curve to climb in regards to apartment searching, and there have been days where I felt on the verge of a major stress rash.

In retrospect, I do regret asking My Supernova to start the serious hunt with me on my birthday.  What a tiring--nay, exhausting--day!  Though we knew the area we were searching in well, after a while all the addresses and phone numbers blurred together.  We looked at nearly a dozen places, with no good leads.  In fact, we saw quite a range of apartments and met a variance of personalities in the way of managers and owners.  The biggest lesson I learned was that as much as I am trying to prove myself a good tenant in order to "win" the apartment, I also need to make sure that the place fits my needs well beyond the basics of space, location, and budget. 

Though I was online obsessively, the physical search took about two weeks.  Still, it was a stressful two weeks, in which I felt like I aged a year!  In the end, I found a place that I think fits the bill.  It's a one-bedroom apartment (I thought I could live in a studio until I saw the ones available), which gives me some room to separate living, sleeping, and eating.  Locationally, it's less than a mile from my current place--which means change, but not drastic change:  I am still on the same bus line and still within easy reach of my parents' and brothers' homes.  Also, the owners are local, and seem both easygoing and attentive.

The lease is signed! 

I've been packing and cleaning my apartment (which accounts for by absence from blogging) and doing my best to enjoy my remaining time there.  And, I'm getting ready for a spring break trip (planned long ago).  Lots to do by month's end!  

I am really looking forward to living on my own again, yet I know that I don't always take well to change -- even that of my own doing.  So there will be many lessons to learn and many ways in which to grow during this next season.  Wishmeluck!