Overly Romantic Soul

If you look closer, the overly romantic soul that truly lives in this home is revealed by select Chinese cookie fortunes, temporary IDs from those moments-in-time where I've entered buildings to visit gentleman of interest at their workplace...

If you didn’t know me, you’d think I was a narcissistic alcoholic. My friend Dennis from Texas took a photo of me and created an Andy Warhol-like book cover as a joke and it was so funny I put it up on my fridge. The combination of rows and rows of my faces with a reddish background next to a hot pink postcard from Barneys New York advertising a cosmetics sale that screams LOVE YOURSELF could easily be taken out of context.

There are vintage note cards with black & white images with quotes such as “If alcohol’s not involved, neither am I” and “I’ll have a Café-Mocha-Vodka-Valium-Latte to go, thanks” perched next to a postcard of a Toots Shors screening I’d seen with my Dad. Juxtaposed with martini paraphernalia I’ve received as gifts throughout the years, I appear to be a very thirsty girl.

But if you look closer, the overly romantic soul that truly lives in this home is revealed by select Chinese cookie fortunes, temporary IDs from those moments-in-time where I’ve entered buildings to visit gentleman of interest at their workplace, and the daily pass from the day I auditioned at Atlantic Theatre School. The only photo is of my immediate family. One of my favorite quirky items is a knight-in-shining-armor magnet from the Walters Art Gallery in Baltimore. It holds up artwork from my favorite couple’s daughter who embellished her doodlings with Cinderella and Prince Charming stickers!

Down below the fold (since I’m more into reading the New York Times then cooking, I guess down below the fridge under the freezer is actually the proper verbiage) is an ad that features a watercolor illustration of Miuccia Prada. Its simple beauty and originality mirrors her work and art, and I’ve always admired people who follow their dreams. It’s next to a letter about “the life of a poet” that I was given by a bartender at ‘21’ a few years ago when he overheard me make the life-changing announcement to my Dad that I was quitting my corporate job to write and take classes.

My refrigerator used to be cream colored, I think. It’s so covered up with Gemini love horoscopes, photos, postcards, magnets, magazine ads that inspire me, creative images and slogans that I can’t quite remember what it looked like when I first moved in. The graffiti extends around the side of the fridge in the form of magnetic notepads where I make lists for my lists. Writing year-to-year resolutions trumps the more stressful daily day-to-day to-do lists; the more difficult list-making task oddly comforts me.

In my freakishly neat apartment, my Freeze/Fridge is the one place where chaos rules and I get a naughty pleasure from the bursts of inspiration. Not a morning person, I’m grumpy and can’t speak to anyone before my first cup of coffee. So while it’s brewing and I’m waiting for the aroma to bring me back to life, I find myself daydreaming while perusing my little messages and inspirational pick-me-ups to myself for myself by myself! Sometimes it makes me giggle because if I didn’t know me, it looks like a creative eccentric lives there, which is what I’d always wanted to be but fret that my day-to-day life doesn’t reflect that image. My fridge does.

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