Here, read about my living room!
Monday, Feb. 12, 2007 - 23:40

Genius idea: I will tell you about my living room.

There's the furnacey thing in that corner over there, with two fold-up stools in front of it. I sit on the stools, when they don't have crap on them, like one does now: four books (Frankenstein, two about Frankenstein, and the book that has the texts for my project), a print-out of my project, a green pen. I sit on top of the furnacey thing too, until it gets too hot.

Here is my desk. It's got a little CD rack, my computer, empty folders for putting stories into, a glass from my old work that now holds pens, an indoor/outdoor thermometer (63.4/34.7 right now), a half-full blue water bottle, a rad retro black lamp, an orange cup recently emptied of Sleepytime tea. I'm sitting in a strange cross-legged manner on my chair. It has arms.

There's another CD rack thing in the corner, next to a big speaker, upon which is another CD rack thing made out of a wooden wine box, and on top of that is a lava lamp.

And next to that is my totally awesome '60s record player shelf thingy, laying out long and flat like it's supposed to - for the last ten or more years I've used it upright, on its side, technically. But it's the way is supposed to be, and supporting my stereo (record player, tape deck, CD/DVD player, receiver), a little speaker, a center speaker, my records, my printer, more CDs, burned CDs (wah! wah!), DVDs. My violin, for some reason, is lying in front of my records. The curtain is red.

Then there's a biggish plant and I think I had it when I lived in this town before - maybe I even got it for my wedding, I totally don't remember - but it moved to California, and it moved back home with me and lived with my sister while I was in Australia, and it moved to Seattle, where Fate landed it in the hapless paws of an idiot full-breed cat, who toppled the poor plant from the heights of a tall bookshelf. It was decapitated. And then maybe when I lived in Ballard it was exposed to the hot blazing sun and other such elements once or twice. But it's fine now.

Then there's my bookshelf in the other corner at an angle, hiding a big speaker behind it. A little speaker is on top of it. I am not pleased about the placement of my speakers - I want some up high. The little speaker has a tiny stein on it - ich hab' mein Herz in Heidelberg verloren. My guitar is leaning up against the bookshelf and there's a lamp standing in front of the bookshelf too.

Then there's a thingy, a tabley thing, two drawers. I keep candles in the bottom one. I have the old phone from the house my mom grew up in on top of this table thing. The phone works but doesn't ring, but I don't have a landline. A wind-up alarm clock, not wound. It ticks too loud. A pile of books. A pile of magazines.

The sleeper chair. My backpack, my messenger bag, and two blankets.

My coffee table, covered with: notebooks full of words I can't bear to look at but can't bear to put away, a notebook and textbook for class tomorrow, some photocopied articles from god knows where, another green pen, a coaster from some seedy bar in Seattle, my keys, a present for one of my old roommates - her birthday was in January. A bra, some sweatpants (nicely folded), a large plastic bag enclosing the stupid new phonebook someone hung up on my mailbox. A little photo album with my best pictures in it.

There's a rug on the floor and there are shoes on the rug even though they should be out in the alley room. I am wearing my new running shoes right now. My best camera is under the coffee table.

There's another bookshelf by the door, there's a bulletin board with a lot of Polaroids on it, there's the old fan my grandparents had on the farm. There's my tripod. There's random various things on the walls, paintings by my sister, a naked lady calendar, a super rad candle/mirror thing. A license plate. A "Free Ballard" bumper sticker. White Christmas lights, going from behind my stereo to behind the sleeper chair, over windows, all year. A dustbuster, hidden next to the furnacey thing.

I have to read now, or maybe I should just get into bed. Ahh, bed.