I have been telling everyone about it. I am now trying to quick swing a full-time job at work rather than just part-time I have been working, and my mom said that normally the full-time job tends to come before the apartment and my friend Pam also said that I may "be putting the cart before the horse," as the saying goes, but I can't help it. I knew that this was going to happen too, I texted my friend Alisa with my premonition before seeing the place that I just knew I was bound to fall deeply in love with it and then be devastated when it inevitably falls through. (Female intuition? Haha.) Well hopefully I was only half right. I want only to be right about the loving the apartment, but pleasantly surprised and dead wrong about the outcome and somehow magically be able to manage to actually get it!
This rickshaw is already miles ahead of the cyclist because I am already thinking of how I want it decorated. If by some miracle I actually land this place, its not like I'd be able to afford paint any time soon, haha, (housewarming gift anyone?) but I want to paint it, wait for it...
Pink! That's riiight! Haha, can you imagine?! One of my very favorite movies, starring one of my very favorite actresses, if not my all time fave leading lady, is Batman Returns starring Michelle Pfeiffer. She plays the mild-mannered downtrodden secretary Selena Kyle by day, and her fierce villainess alter-ego Catwoman by night. (I was talking about this movie the other night with my friend Paul, and I said that Michelle Pfeiffer was the only Catwoman, except for the several actresses who played her in the old television series/movie of course, Julie Newmar, Eartha Kitt and Lee Meriwether.) The point being, Selena's apartment is shades of pink and I adore it! When she is first making her transformation into Catwoman she has this breakdown and shoves her stuffed animals into the garbage disposal and smashes pictures and knick-knacks with a frying pan, (which I will try to restrain myself,) but the part I will do is what she does next. She takes a can of black spray paint to the pink walls! Haha.
Selena-isms that I like to apply to other parts of my life aside from interior decor cues and wardrobe hijacks, (Hello, practically-sprayed-on-second-skin-latex-catsuit!) are in the scene when she first comes home to her coveted apartment, (which also has a Murphy bed but I hear they are stupid-expensive. One day, one day...) and later when she replays the whole charade after, oh just watch the movie! Anyway she walks in and calls, "Honey, I'm home! ... Oh, I forgot, I'm not married..." which I told my mom I would do religiously every time I got in. Another is a quote, (one of my favorites, and I realized when watching this earlier this evening that I could probably recite 97% of the screenplay verbatim) she says to Bruce Wayne, "It's the so-called 'normal' guys that always let you down. Sickos never scare me. At least they're committed." Not exactly the most sound dating advice I could follow, but hey, what are ya gonna do? (Is it bad that a villain is one of my heroes? Haha.)
I want this apartment to be part Selena Kyle, part Holly Golightly (Audrey Hepburn's beloved Breakfast at Tiffany's role) and part Carrie Bradshaw (Sarah Jessica Parker in Sex and the City.) I feel like I shouldn't have to tell you who these people are, and most of you probably know, but you'd be surprised. (Those of you who don't ought to be ashamed of yourselves and educate yourself in these important references to popular culture!) A fabulous mash-up of the three of these ladies and you have all Travvy!
I wasn't planning on getting into this entire thing, and I'm really not, like you won't get the whole back story of the events of the day leading up to the apartment, (which is really quite riveting, stay tuned!) but let me just tell you more about the apartment. It's one bedroom, one bath, a big kitchen, and that's basically it. One small closet, (and Girrrrllll you know I will be needing me some closet space!) but then there is this little hallway/half-room between the bedroom and the bathroom, which is a really neat bathroom, too, by the way, at least as far as bathrooms go... that can be converted into a walk-in/dressing area a lá Ms. Carrie Bradshaw! It is very Sex and the City, or Gay Sex and the City, because it wouldn't be suburbs anymore if/when I am living in this to die for downtown apartment, but anyway. And the other thing that is trés SATC about it, is you know how Carrie had two bathroom doors? One right inside the front door and another off the bedroom via her walk-in? (See?!) It became important in one episode where Carrie and Aidan were mid-fight while he was mid-moving in, before their second break-up? "Why do you need two bathroom doors?!" "So if a rapist climbs in through my bedroom window I can see him in the mirror and ("vamoose" whistle noise and two thumbs off to the side hand gesture) escape out the front door!" (This wasn't a direct quote, but very close I should think.) If the bathroom access through the closet weren't enough, there is also a second entrance/exit from/to the hallway from the from the would-be/(this fact actually makes it even more literally a) walk-in. Not exactly the same but close enough! Not exactly the same city either, smaller, (read less expensive,) but a lot to see and do and there are buses every hour, David told me more than once, to NYC anyway haha. Not that I'd be going there much, at least at first, with the cash flow situation. But I don't care if I had to not do as much, I don't do much now anyway, I could probably manage to go out about as often as I do now, maybe skip an invite here and there, but it would be worth it because I would be in this cute little apartment! And it is little, notice I didn't mention a living space. Well the whole thing is living space, but like a living room area. I could have room for seating in the bedroom or kitchen, but I don't have furniture anyway. Well that's not true, I do have my Great Grammy's coffee table that was going out for a yard sale despite my best efforts to hold on to it, but my Gram said that I should keep it for when I had my own place someday. (I was maybe ten when this happened, haha.) So I have a coffee table. And my bedroom furniture and decor, endless amounts of tchotchkes, that are in my bedroom at home now. (Including an actual movie poster from a theater a family friend once owned, the ones that are hung outside the theater to advertise, from guess what movie? Batman Returns!) (I also have Mermaids (Cher!) but that doesn't tie in to the Batman theme.)
Another movie that I have intended to incorporate into my home one day, but that I haven't mentioned to anyone, as far as I know, up to this point, at least not since the recent developments and my subsequent fixation/obsession/mania over this apartment, is the mirror from the Elizabeth Taylor film BUtterfield 8. I intentionally also capitalized the "u" before Danielle points out my apparent typo, as I have become a sort of spelling and grammar Nazi on her Facebook posts. In the movie, which just two night ago my Aunt Tracy and I were discussing the confusing subject of Elizabeth Taylor's (Academy Award winning) character, who is apparently a call-girl but is infuriated and outrageously offended when a date and or john leaves money on the night stand the morning after. We don't know what the deal is, and I said it is compounded and made more confusing by the fact of the MGM and really all studios of the time period with their strict rules of propriety so things are only alluded to rather than outright said. Although, I do recall, Aunt Tracy, in one scene where the guy says that, oh, he understands, she chooses the men, they don't choose her. So I guess even though she is technically a call-girl using a calling service (BUtterfield 8 is the calling service, hence the name,) she doesn't go with just anyone and she isn't or at least she feels she isn't prostituting just dating so she doesn't accept money? I don't know. I am getting sidetracked again. To finish the original train of thought, and bring it back to how it relates to my apartment, when she wakes up in the morning and discovers the envelope of money, she becomes enraged and writes "No Sale" in red lipstick on the mirror above the fireplaee, leaves the envelope and cash on the mantelpiece, but storms out with a cut-crystal bottle of liquor and wearing one of her "gentleman" caller's wife's mink coats. (She needed to wear something to leave though, she found her dress torn in half on the floor and couldn't very well have gone out in her slip.) So I want a mirror in my apartment on which I will write in big scrawling red lipstick letters, "No Sale."
I'll keep you posted on how this whole apartment fiasco plays out. I am getting way ahead of myself and carried away, but it's fun and I enjoy having things to be preoccupied with. Well as long as it's something fun to be preoccupied with like the prospect of this apartment and not the everyday mundane things that I deal with on a regular basis. Clearly none of those things are fun or interesting or I would be blogging more. So look for the mess the layout of the club night part II post became to be fixed, and the addition of the lap dance escapade and another run-in Catherine had with a bitchy Sweeney Todd-type queen. Til then, Mes Chères.
xoxo, Travvy
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