My mom keeps wanting to see where I live – sleep and eat and whatnot.
So.
This is my crib.
I am a solo – recently graduated – student at heart, with no room mate (not even a dog). So to have a huge apartment is just unnecessary. However, I do reside in a pretty dandy little studio that is just e-nough for a gal like me. Located one block from Lake Hollingsworth (which would be so nice and convenient if I actually ran around it… any takers? Running buddy?) and sits on top of a laundry room/garage and right next to a spanish home. I say it has four mini-rooms, but it’s actually one room and a bathroom – you would never know – except for that I just told you.
My mornings usually start out looking like this:
You know they always show the pantry and fridge on Cribs, but I was a little ashamed because my cooking trials have gotten me NOWHERE! So expensive to mess up fresh food.
You know you’re a typical twenty-something when the pantry looks like this: chips, peanut butter and condiments. But – but – the best part about it – Teavana.
It’s like my new addiction. That and Italian Ice. The best tea E-VER! This pantry is complete with only that. Go – they will mix a unique blend just for you!
The fridge: Yep, pretty much nothing. Some left overs, a bottle of root beer (I really wanted a root beer float the other day) and a bunch of bottled water for the road. That’s about it. Seriously, that’s it.
I’m really determined to eventually getting a well rounded knowledge of how to fill it and use the things I fill it with before they are wasted. Speaking of, this 
is where that is supposed to take place. It doesn’t always happen It never happens, but many pasta and sauce dinners, as well as, Ramen Noodle entrees have been created there – delectable if I do say so myself. And I do.
This is where the scheduling happens: on the fridge door. Speaking of what’s on the fridge door , big shout out to my friends on the fridge door – Bree and Rick – soon to be the Mendoza, Jr.’s. Just throwin’ that out there.
This is where the magical dreams happen – or not – because I seem to never get to sleep until the crack of dawn, and by that time there isn’t time for dreams.
My favorite parts of this room is the random tiny little gold wire star hanging from the closet door, and the canvas picture on the dresser.
I can remember the day I got that star – it was for Christmas when I was in late middle school and it had lip gloss and stuff in it. I have no clue how I still have it, but that little star has made it with me every time I have moved and to every new bedroom I’ve ever had. That’s like over 6 places since middle school. The picture is on a canvas of a Muslim girl who’s striking eyes were featured on the cover of a National Geographic’s magazine years ago. I loved the photo and have such a soft place in my heart for the culture so when I found it at a little airy street market I was instantly in love with it. I don’t know how I fit it into my carry on without stabbing the canvas, but now that it’s mine I really treasure it.
I really need to clean this bad boy out, especially before I head out this summer, but I don’t really want to right now. I have no idea how I fit everything into this little guy, but it is done… along with three plastic tubs under my bed and a dresser… I make it happen. I am a jeans girls deep in my soul, actually on the surface too, pretty much what I always wear; and everyday I pretty much pull each one of these pair out to see which I wanna wear, so clearly I need a better system because folding them every time is not always fun.
Last, but not least – actually maybe least because it’s tiny – the bathroom.
I love the picture above my toilet, all girly and lacy. My bathroom is black, grey, silver and purple. And it’s full of everything a girl loves – make-up, jewelry, hair accessories, and these adorable little pictures of my niece playing dress-up and make-up with me a few years ago – I so cherish those moments with her.
So that’s, that. Nothing too jazzy, but it’s home.
It’s transitional home, and I think that’s what I love most about it. Just perfect until the next.
Well…. you don’t have to go home… but you gotta get up outa here!!
The Roaring 20s 