Virtual Tour

I cleaned my apartment... like really, really cleaned it. It was an experience I would now like to share with you.

For context, a typical "before" picture, taken prior to a night out on the town during the summer.

CHALLENGE: can you find: takeout containers, a dead plant, a full box of fruit cups, my cat resting on a pile of trash, leg makeup, my crotch shot.

OK, now check it out. As a disclaimer i should mention that my building is kind of old and I have a lot of stuff, so what constitutes really clean for me is is not like, "khaki clad mom wielding Bounty paper towels in commercial aired during daytime TV" clean, it's more like "young freshman pledge attempting to keep his room in the frat house neat but not so neat he gets called queer" clean.

First up: the kitchen.

See, I know you're thinking... whatever, pretty standard, not that great. But look, I have a TEAPOT. Like an adult. And there aren't dishes on the sink, AND nothing is visibly rotting in the fruit bowl. Let's continue.

This is my cupboard, which is where my dishes are now, arranged with their like compatriots. Usually they are in the sink, or lying next to my bathtub covered with dried ketchup and stale bits of chicken patty. On one amazing occasion a gentleman friend found a dirty plate 'neath the pillow he was sleeping on. That won't happen again!

Moving on...


This is the top of my refrigerator which clearly adds to the theory that I am slowly morphing into the cartoon character "Cathy" as you will notice the contents are: Kahlua, Bloody Mary mix, Margarita mix, cheap and dusty red wine, cat treats, and about 12 different weight loss/slimfast powders. Below you can see other people's wedding/bridal shower/baby shower invitations affixed with my one magnet, which advertises a 24 hour cat emergency room. Yep.




This is really where I just kind of cram the stuff I don't have room for anywhere else, but since all my art supplies are in a box there I like to call it my studio. I have high hopes of summer days spent creating masterpieces while I gaze out the window at my foxy shirtless neighbor sunbathing on his balcony....until the day I muster up the courage to ask him if he'd like me to apply gentle strokes of sunscreen to his giant horse tattoo so it doesn't fade in the sun.

you might think the bed is where the magic happens. but you'd be surprised. Sometimes you can find curly fries in the cushions to enjoy as a delicious nightcap, but since J in the B on Broadway closed, it's been happening less and less. But, sometimes.


I like to turn all the lights off except the Christmas lights and pretend I'm sitting on a porch in Savannah with a sweet tea, watching the firefies dip and play. But then I spill Rainier all over the bed and have to turn the lights back on to change the sheets.

my closet is not so great or organized, but Maxi has not recently kicked cat shit on the floor so it's like a GRIP better than normal. Also, bonus points if you can figure out a good outfit I can wear that leopard print shrug with... I was going to return it but then I got part of a Shamrock shake on it and now the fake fur's a little matted, so...

I've wanted Tibetan prayer flags ever since the days of Camp Orkila when Trek proudly displayed them on Turnripple. I've wanted to continue collecting pictures of birds made entirely out of feathers ever since I realize they really creep my mom out. God, let's take a moment and watch that hardwood gleam.


Hey, have I somehow managed to go the last five minutes without trying to overcompensate for what I worry you may perceive as my life's current mediocrity by finding a way to bring up the fact that I've spent time in Southeast Asia in a conversation where it would not normally be considered relevant? Well then, why don't you look at my Buddha faces, or maybe my Vietnamese propaganda posters, and then try not to forget next time.

These are my washing products. MaybPublish Poste now that they are arranged so pleasingly I will venture into the shower more often. Just kidding, my hygiene is excellent.