Ok so I spend my time on my bed. It is a Queen Size futon that is backed up against a wall, the wall to the room where the boiler is. I have nice sheets, and I sleep on the right hand side if you're sitting up against the back board. I use 2 pillows and one of those pillows with arms and a back when I sit up, but I only sleep with one pillow. My current blankets consist of a sheet, a heat blanket which is almost always on (helps with the pain) and a wool blanket on top. All of this is on my side. On the other side you have a pile of clothes at the base of the bed on the left. I wear these in cycles. I'm a scrub. Right now you have pajamas at the bottom, then a pair of jeans, my Filson wool jacket, a Barbor jacket liner, a couple LL Bean flannel lined canvas shirts, a Filson Wool best, and a pair of OLD LL Bean Wool pants that my father had - it beats long underwear.
As you move closer to me on the bed you get a collapsed pepsi box that I use to insallate the laptop from the blanket. A container that has the remains of dinner, some OLD Sony headphones that my father bought for me when I was 12 (thats 14 years I have been using the same headphones), a couple books, pipe cleaners - then as you come up to arms reach to my left is an ashtray with pipe holders that a friend gave me, its yellow and black shaped like a flat square with a sketch of old sailing ships in the bowl of the tray. There is currently an Owl Shop pipe and a Peterson (made in Dublin) pipe. Then a Hohner Harmonica, some matches, tobacco, medications, and a book.
Off the side of the bed in the actual room now - this is off to my left (we are working off what I can see, back up against the wall) are two doors, regular rectangular doors, one is in the wall I lean on which leads into a larger room with the boiler and a lot of motorcycle parts - it used to contain dad's full metal shop.
The other door which is on the wall parallel to me on the left side leads into the TV room. There is a hamper next to that door (to its right we are going) then a large wooden wardrobe which is where I keep my clothes since there is no closet. To the right of that is a speaker with old projectors on it and a tower speaker comes next, then an old cheap bookcase which has a ton of books, stage crew awards, pictures, keys, hats, and random bits - a piece of the Apollo launch pad given to me by a friend who worked for NASA.
Turn the corner and hanging from the wall up high over the bookcase almost is a punching bag - a speed or rytham bag as you'd call it. This is on the wall opposite me. About a foot and a half to its right is the door that leads to the bathroom and back stairs leading up and out. To the right of the door is a small cabinet that I made into a table that holds about 50 motorcycle magazines from England, and a picture of my father's family. There is a stool with a back in front of it that has books and an ashtray (my grandfather's made for him by a student, it is green and has his initials in it) next to that is an old green chair from a friend's living room with a small cheap leather footrest that currently has a pillow and a 5 disc CD changer on it. To the right of the chair is a trunk full of junk, a white table, and a matching chair.
Turn the corner and you have a large desk like table that isnt that large. It covered in books, there are milk crates on the ground full of notebooks - journals I have kept through the years dating back to when I was 19 (I burned all the journals before that in a failed attempt to escape my past), next to that is an overly built work bench that dad made (or got free with a Shaper) that used a solid core door as the top and deck posts as legs. It has stereo equipment on it, a Crown Amp, an Advent Tuner, a McIntosh Pre-Amp, a Sony Record player, and a tower speaker.
Turn the corner and you are at the wall I am leaning against. There is another box speaker (matching the one next to the wardrobe) with a record box on top - like a book case built for records, it's white and contains maybe 60 records, all which I love. To the right of that and the immidiate right of me is a small side table with a drawer. It has a lamp and a rotary telephone on it. Has my testosterone gel in the drawer and about 100 empty pepsi cans scattered around it.
The joy of the idea of an apartment again is that I can spread out. I'll have laundry machines and a sink to wash the cans. A place to cook food and bake my dad's bread. A place to sleep that is separate from where I drink my soda and listen to my music. The green chairs can go into the living room and I can have a small table in the dining room where I can eat and read.
What I haven't described to you is the pictures. I have several hundred pictures on my walls.
That's one of my best friends. But you can see the pictures behind him. They rise up all the way to the ceiling and cover pretty much every available inch of the walls. They rap around to the wall with the stereo, they surround the wardrobe and bookcase, and the wall immidiately behind me shows no plaster. They even decorate the doors.
There are pictures of my heroes, my father (my hero), friends, motorcycles, comics, actors, Ted Kennedy, me, bands, family, song lyrics, signs, magazine articles. Anything that has peaked my interest in the last few years is on these walls. I do it where ever I move. In Ohio, in Vermont, Phoenix was a masterpiece, my bedroom on Morningside Road - they all have had this.
I am not sure where in my apartment. It will probably start in my bedroom. I may contain it to my bedroom and workout/office/library (if we get a 2 bedroom place). What does not excite me about moving is that when I put up pictures I always put them up as if we are never leaving. As if I am never leaving. So taking them down will sacrifice a few. Thats hard to swallow, and with the pain in my hands it might take a week to get these all down..
But ya, that's my room, this is where I type, read, surf the web, sleep, smoke, and just flat out exist. I promise that where ever you are right now, there is a very solid chance that I am here. I'm not complaining, I'm not bitter, but that is just how it is.
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