NTKOG #232: The kind of college honors graduate who — wait a minute — actually learned a lesson in kindergarten?!
I am: allegedly an adult, but still playing house at a pre-kindergarten level.
I am not: good at cleaning up after myself, what can I say? That, and most of the junk scattered around my apartment is totally kindergarten appropriate: chalk, fingerpaintings, googly eyes, plastic beads, and toy robots of every description.
The Scene: My apartment which, I realize now, I’ve often referenced but always refrained from describing in this blog. My reason? Sheer, unadulterated shame.
It’s mortifying to have to admit this in a public forum, but I’m an absolute slob. I mean, really beyond the pale. Up until a month ago, my apartment looked like Frank and Charlie’s in Always Sunny: plates, clothes, plastic bags scattered around, peppered liberally with broken glass (I have a thing about broken glass). After spending a year as the obligatory neat-freak zookeeper for four boys, I made a little deal with myself: “You never have to clean. Ever.” And, uh, I stuck with that.
To be fair, I think it’s hereditary. Ever since I can remember, my mother’s proudly displayed a refrigerator magnet that reads: “Dull women have immaculate houses.” Funny the stuff that sticks with us from childhood, eh?
I had a pretty simple routine: as long as I was spending my time writing, I didn’t have to clean up my apartment. Once it got so bad I had literal nightmares about it, I’d spend four feverish hours tidying. Repeat as necessary. (Hardly ever necessary.)
However, as part of my recent-ish monastic schedule, as well as a general desire to de-clutter my life, spent a full weekend a few weeks ago genuinely cleaning the ol’ place. In just six hours, it was downgraded from crackhouse to frat house. Six hours after that, it almost looked like a real apartment.
Then, to top off the transformation, I came up with the GREATEST CLEANING TIP EVER DREAMED UP BY MAN. I mean, this shiz is powerful. Patent pending, so don’t steal it from me:
After I use something? I put it back!
You guys, if any of you steals that advice and gets a book deal, prepare to feel my dang wrath.
It’s been a little over a month now, and for the first time in my life, I actually live somewhere clean. Not spit-shined, not hastily swept under rugs — actually, legitimately organized. (Sort of.) I like to think of myself as a young urban Lorax, except, instead of speaking for the trees, I’m just trying to protect against the desecration of their hardwood floor brethren.
To celebrate this extremely uncharacteristic lifestyle change, I am — deep breath — hereby giving you the grand tour of my apartment. A big deal to me because, despite the 900+ pages of blog prose suggesting otherwise, I’m a very private person, and rarely let other humans into my personal universe. Like, for context, before this month, only six people had seen my apartment. Four were out of town guests. One was my super. And now, all of you get to.
My front door and -- light of my life -- my Wall of Rejection, where I paste all of my rejection letters. As you can see, I've been busy.
Fun fact: I've had an Attack of the 50-Foot Woman poster in some form in every room I've lived, even temporarily, since I was 18. I want a nice lithographed copy as a wedding gift. If slash when that time comes.
Nichka couldn't be bothered to wake up from her nap for me to photograph the bed.
Wall across from the couch. I like that the Lenin / piggy bank arrangement is kind of an Animal Farm tribute. Although I guess the addition of my grinning monster bowl makes it a ... Great Monsters Of History thing?
My kitchen, viewed larger than lifesize. Note: there is literally no built-in counter space. That's what the tops of microwaves are for, I guess.
My messy bathroom. Or, as I like to think of it, the second bedroom. Heck yes, clawfoot tubs.
The Verdict: Huh. Turns out the floor isn’t just the biggest shelf in the house. I’ll admit I haven’t done a perfect job keeping this up since it was moved from active NTKOG status, but it’s nice having an apartment that can be made company-ready in twenty minutes instead of a week and a half.
{ 19 comments… read them below or add one }
i sympathize re: the kitchen space. the apartment g & i had in boston (all 400 sq feet of it…) was just as tiny as yours and had a titch more counter space than yours, if you don’t count the fact that IT WAS HIDDEN BEHIND THE FRIDGE. i still don’t get that.
i showed g this post and his response was, ‘i don’t understand why people think they’re entitled to counter space.’ said like a true, born and bred bostonian/somervillian.
but cute decorations! i’ve never seen hair baubles as wall deco before, but it works.
one of these days, i’ll grow up and keep a clean house, too. but for now… eh.
Haha, a true Bostonian indeed. Us crazy West Coasters with our irrational demands for things like counterspace and bike lanes…
Very nice! I like your home.
HELL YES!!! i <3 Matta!
Oh, dang. I love the piggy bank. The apartment is so quirky and fun-looking!
Personally, I feel that I have better things to do than clean. My roommates and I have a 3 bedroom/3 bathroom place. One of the biggest reasons for that is that we all feel guilty if shard space isn’t spotless, but–hell, we have our whole lives to clean!
Boyfriend’s roommate has been in Europe for the last month…meaning that his apartment is, uh, disorganized. This has led me to conclude that I can only tolerate my own mess. Grimy shower in my own home? Okay. Grimy shower at his? I’ll wear flip flops, thank you!
That’s a miracle, that you have a shared apartment where people’s solution is to clean! Most of the times I’ve been in that situation, everyone’s thought process is: “Well, I don’t want to be the chump who cleans more than anyone else, so I’ll just do nothing!”
Also, piggy bank? Dollar Tree, baby!
My Mum has that same fridge magnet, and I whole heartedly concur. Japanese apartments seem to include the draining board as counter space, which bothered me until I noticed you don’t even have that. Still, that’s a great excuse to go to a restaurant, right?
Wait — draining board? That’s what that thing is?! I actually do have one, sort of: it’s what my drying rack is resting on. I never knew why it had those kooky little ridges on it, though. That makes so much more sense than anything I imagined.
Also, couldn’t agree more on the restaurant count. Especially since my favorite-ever neighborhood pizzeria is right across the street. Must not … exist … on pizza alone…
eerily enough, this apartment looks exactly like my old one. Like, A LOT.
And, I also spend the entire day cleaning. How odd? I also figured out that maybe the floor isn’t the best shelf. Y’know, after the boyf stepped on enough things and broke them.
Oh man, The Ex and I used to get in heated exchanges (well, heated for us, anyway; we were a pretty calm duo) about my habit of leaving full soda cans on the floor under the bed. My theory: dude, why you gotsta be rampaging around like an ogre, kicking underneath the bed all the time?!
Curiously enough, he disagreed.
I got a taste of my own medicine a few months ago, though, when I left a glass under the bed, then smashed my foot all the way through it in the middle of the night and spurted blood all over three of the walls. (A testament both to the smallness of my apartment and the superior blood-fountaining abilities of my poor maligned feet.)
OPEN cans of soda, to be clear. (Although to TKOG, kicking over a closed can of soda is as good as destroying it, because it loses carbonation.)
Your place looks great, sweetheart! I’m glad you still have the zebra barrette — what about the cupcake?
Glad to read in the hover text that my paintings are up! Even if I am a little disappointed that they didn’t make it onto the blog. :-)
PS: The fascinators on the light switch covers are some of my favorite decorations.
I wore the cupcake two days ago, actually! To this day, one of the most delightful gifts I’ve ever received. (The most delightful, obviously, was that bar of men’s Speedstick our first Christmas. Which reminds me, I actually need to buy some more tomorrow.)
I kind of really love your apartment- especially the 50 Foot Woman poster. I used to be a total slob too, and life is so much easier (and mysteriously less stressful) with a clean house. For reals.
i’m impressed. the common areas of the sublet i’ve been in all summer are in decent shape, but my room is a thoroughly chaotic mess. i’m planning to spend the next couple of days putting everything together and cleaning up, but it’s just intimidating as all hell. and i REALLY hate cleaning…
That doesn’t look so bad! But you are right, the art of PUTTING SOMETHING BACK… amazing. :) PS – gave you an award on my blog. Feel free to accept it or not. :P
I have a kitchen towel that says “A clean house is a sign of a wasted life” and I can’t deny that I’m living after that wisdom. My mom loves it, no wonder. She’s worse than me. And let’s not even get into bf’s habits. I mean, nowadays I’m the clean freak, for the first time in my life. Which means I clean the apartment about once a week.
Yesterday I cleaned the bedroom for FIVE HOURS. Fixing curtains, correcting stuff, sorting through drawers, changing the bed linens, sigh. And I still have 4/5 of the apartment left.
This cleaning thing is done best with a big glass of wine and loud music.
Cleaning is my weakness, I go in waves. Things will get messy, then I’ll finally snap and do a thorough several-hour cleaning session. Then I figure I’ve done my cleaning for a while then things get messy again. I’m somewhat terrified to be moving in with three other guys this fall after living by myself and with the ex for the last two years. The cleanliness of my last four-guy apartment was, um, not ideal. *Shudder*
I love your apartment, especially the feathery fascinator decorations. But you left out the most important part: the bookshelves! Any chance of us getting to see them? As a Wodehouse/Waugh fan who has never met another one in person, I have the urge to compare. *bats eyelashes*
Ha, I was going to put a picture of my bookshelf, but realized it would be the only vertical picture among the rest of the horizontals. My internet connection’s too slow to post one right now, but next time I gratuitously namecheck Wodehouse in a post, I’ll include a picture of the messy old shelves. :-)