I wrote this blog last week, but it did not make the cut. With the advent of a friend getting a new apartment, I pulled it from the shelf, dusted it off and decided to post it today.
I live in a bachelor pad. I am slowly coming to that realization. If I didn't have the extra bedroom (where my kids stay on weekends), my co-op would reek of male living alone. I'm not saying it is not nicely decorated, just that it definitely leans, no falls to the side of man taste.
The furniture : leather.
The statues and bronzes : females.
The sheets : t-shirt material and fleece.
The general feel : rustic and hard wood.
Except for the paintings and pieces of art, the place is sheer functionality-over-form. I even have a Roomba on each floor, because I'm pretty sure I could build a vacuum, but still could not effectively use one. It is not a bad thing, just an observation.
It may not be as fancy as the houses I've lived in or nearly as big, but I love my man pad just the same, it is my place, my sanctuary, my home. By next spring I hope to get the landscaping and lawn under control. I know as soon as I get the place exactly the way I like it though, someone will probably come into my life and if we stay here, she'll change everything about it. That is also not a bad thing.
For now it is my tree and my ape brain likes it just the way it is.
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