I feel a think coming on as some favourite but forgotten character once said. I have moved into a new place a mere catapult shot away from my old apartment, and yet, so very different. It is the place I have always wanted but did not know I wanted, and now that I have it, I cannot but want to have it longer! So goes my fierce nostalgia for the present projected into the future. The perfect little apartment on the second floor of an open set of homes, with a central shared space where children play, an old railing to which I lock my bike, paint peeling in just the right places all give the facade character. Imagine that, after living in a chunky, dingy apartment building with blinding white walls and little else that stood out. And the inside of our new abode is an even more cutesy tale. A cosy living room lit by a lamp, a thirty year old couch, a recliner in the corner and a view of the park. Two bedrooms with our lives in them, a kitchen full of brand new dishes waiting to be filled with our food experiemnts, beer in the fridge, a makeshift bathroom curtain to block out the streaky windows and a very chic shower curtain. Domestic bliss is quite real, I have to admit. But if it seems like I attribute it all to simply these objects, it certainly is not the case. We have fun neighbours, and I have a brand new roommate who is easygoing and a friend which is pretty stellar as roommates go so really I saved the best for last. We also have a theme of leaves to bond us :)
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