aqua seafoam shame

Well, the honeymoon is over. I'm back in London.

I moved a small handful of my worldly belongings to the apartment that I'm subletting for this term. As I did last time, I'm traveling light, although not nearly as light as the last round. This time, I'm also responsible for providing a bed, a desk and a computer monitor, whereas last time all I required was some clothes and my computer. However, even these new items are engineered to be as small and easy to move as possible. I invested in a nice flat-screen LCD, which is so light that it can be carried in one hand. My bed is a Coleman inflatable air-bed with a pillow top. My desk is a plank of wood with screw-in legs. It ain't the Ritz, but hey, it's home. In fact, with my Christmas Story glowing leg lamp, it's kinda nice.

The apartment building itself is a throwback to the bygone era of apartment building. The walls have various little metal cover things on them which have been painted over so many times that it would take a chisel and a strong arm to find out what they used to contain. The floors of the bedroom are tiled in a faux-marble pattern, with a few seafoam green tiles thrown in for artistry's sake. Of course, these tiles don't match the kitchen tiles. Or the bathroom tiles, which are a slightly off-putting brown colour. On the other hand, there is plenty of natural light to be had, so long as you are willing to enjoy the view of the building next door, or perhaps the parking lot. There is something about old buildings like this where most surfaces seem to have a film of mysterious gunge, which is somewhat brown and better left untouched. Or at least several generations of previous tenants thought so.

I call it 'retro'. My roommate, N, calls it 'ghetto'. Let's compromise, it's 'ghettro'.