These last few days, I have been undoubtably stir crazy. It is all I can do to get anything done besides looking up homes for rent online. I love living with Val and little Scarlet, I do. I just want a space of my own where I can arrange my furniture, organize my treasures, and set up an art studio. I want to have a space for hanging things all around -- garlands, photography, art prints, twinkle lights, clippings for inspiration. I want a space where I can welcome people and we can laugh and watch movies or sprawl on the living room full because it's there. And I want a space where I can drive up at the end of the day, unlock my back door (I always thought it would be lovely to habitually enter in the backdoor like they do in films or the way my childhood friends did), feel carpet between my toes that says, "you're home".
Practically, I am ahead of schedule. I spotted a Monrovian home just across the street from where I currently live. A lovely 3-bedroom with a front and backyard, 1.5 bathrooms, a huge living, and sizeable kitchen. And even though Jason and I called last night and found out there are several people applying or it and the space is available now instead of a few months from now, it did not prevent me from leaving the townhouse early this morning to stop by and take a look inside, snap some pictures, and still get to work on time. And I am not exaggerating when I say that there is a huge room (supposed to be the master bedroom) with an entrance to the backyard porch, and one to the kitchen for quick snack-getting, and has the incredibly immense potential for a dream art studio for me / study for Jason. I would readily take a smaller bedroom to have an art space that overlooks a backyard of grass and twinklights. Gladly.
I also found a small 2-bedroom house for rent in Pasadena online and it says it will be available in June, which is pretty much when we were looking to move Jason out of Glendora and into our new place, and I got all excited. I have no idea if the place is even close to a good fit, but it gets the blood rushing in my veins and gives me an appetite to grab my coat and purse, and up and run out my cubicle towards the nearest "For Rent" sign.
I suppose it's just about that time. The ever-growing itch that started back in high school has become all I can think about. And I want to play house for real.
polaroid 600 with impossible film: saturdate | taken by brittany m. taylor
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