The Apartment

I know you were probably hoping for an engaging discussion about that classic movie, one of my all-time faves, starring Jack Lemmon and Shirley "So-Cute" McClean (sp?), but you're not going to get it-- at least this time.

Instead, I thought I'd take you on a brief and self-indulgent tour of my since-I've-been-married addresses, noting the perks and pits of each. At the end of my discussion I will come to some general conclusions about apartment-living, my style.

1. September 2000-May 2001. 81 Miller St., Canada Court, Glasgow, Scotland. This flat was the size of the thimble a gnome tailor would use to repair buttonholes. Everything in it was blue, from the wall-to-wall carpeting to the overstuffed furniture to the fecking drapes on the windows. It looked like jillions of Smurfs crapped and spread it everywhere. And the heating sucked so much that I used to wear a hoodie and two pairs of socks just to sit on the couch and read a book-- in fact, sometimes the heating was so bad that it was warmer outside than it was in my flat. The upside: location, location, location... walking distance of anything I cared about-- gym, museum, train, creative writing group, shopping, restaurant, TESCO. George Square. Pubs. Library satellite center.

2. June 2001-May 2004. Northwest Apartments, on the lovely campus of Central MI University. Amount of space seemed kingly to what we had in Glasgow: an upstairs, with two bedrooms and a bathroom, and downstairs a combination living/kitchen area. Everyone said they were sort of institutional looking-- I didn't care. Instead tried to capitalize on this by creating a sort of "urban" feel with decor (having said that, there's not much to be done when the furniture comes with the place, and said pieces aren't urban-chic, but rather college-chic-- read: no matter how many drunk students abuse it, it is completely indestructible). I liked this community a lot. At the time, America still thought it OK to allow foreign students into our universities, so I had a load of exchange student friends who were a total blast (nothing funnier than hearing a bunch of non-native English speakers speak to one another in English, and then tear each other new ones when they don't know a certain word or turn of phrase). Again, it was all about location. Can't get much closer to campus than living right the hell on it.

The downside of NW Apts. came when we had Evan-- and also got all Evan's stuff. It became just too small.

One more upside: there was a sofa bed.

3. October 2004-July 2005. VA101, Postgrad Residence Bloc A, Dublin City University. This flat was the grand mammy of all apartments I'd lived in to date. Not only were there two bedrooms each with their own bathroom, it was also across the street from a good park with a fenced-in kids play area. We had a great view. Evan loved looking out our wall-o-windows in the kitchen/living area and waving to people, birds, trucks, whatever. Quiet place. Came with a vacuum! Downsides: expensive for poor people, small refrigerator, one time the water got cut off for two days and I had to wash myself in the kitchen sink. Laundromat: overpriced and too crowded. No restaurants or cafes of note close by.

In retrospect: I realize it's pretty hot when Dubliners say anything with a hard "t"... like "tunder," or "tanks a million."

4. August 2005-present. A non-descript ground-floor apartment, Mt. Pleasant, MI--fairly new, all amenities I've never had-- AC, washer/dryer, dishwasher. Lots of storage. Close enough to walk to work. No view... just a green dumpster, a parking lot; and, outside, all the dog poop littering the lawn. I hate dogs. Sort of loud: last night I heard my upstairs neighbors having sex. I saw the guy this morning when I was taking the garbage out and had to refrain from saying something like, "It sounds like you had a good time last night." Same upstairs neighbors turn into elephants after 10:30 PM every night. I don't know what they eat for dinner, but it has serious side effects.

So, that's it in a nutshell, as you can see, my powers of description went a bit limp-dicked after the Glasgow section. This isn't because I'm lazy. It's because I have a rhubarb crumble waiting for me, and I find it more appealing than I do this topic.

If you ever have the chance, though, do go see THE APARTMENT at the GFT on Rose Street in Glasgow.