2004-03-05 at 3:13 p.m.
I've got a new apartment baby,
And it protects me from the whistling streets,
And I got a new singer and I got a new song,
I did not advertise a singer, I did not advertise this song,
But I whistle along,
Is she coming?
-Custard 'Apartment'
Well, not really that new. In fact, I've been living in it for over a month. However, it has occurred to me that very few people have seen it, and certainly not any of my long distance or internet-based friends.
This urge to display my dwelling has, funnily enough, coincided with my aquisition of a new mobile phone. Apart from a slew of java games (the kind filled with Japanese style animation, irritatingly bleepy music and incredibly repetitive gameplay) a sound recorder (complete with excessive static) and a red and yellow holographic cover, it contains a digital camera.
And one must never hand a person like me the means of digitally capturing the environment around them. It's just not a good idea. Especially for you - that is, if you happen to be moving, sitting, breathing, or doing anything at all in my general vicinity, because you will be photographed.
Anyway, back to my apartment.
I've restricted myself to four pictures, for two reasons - number one, much of my house is boring as fuck; and number two, and it costs me a whole lotta money every time I send a picture to my email address. Also, having been taken on a mobile phone, these pictures are very small. There is nothing I can do about this. Just lean close to the monitor and squint.
Here we see part of the studio, where I teach, practice, and occasionally take stupid and pointless photos.
Features of note - brand spankin new piano, giant pile of miscellaneous music near the mirror, bookcase housing music texts, percussion and novelty instruments (including four kazoos and two slide whistles) and a large and fairly tacky vase made out of a hollow gourd.
The loungeroom, where I spend more time watching TV than is healthy, sane, or even possible.
Features of note - toy piano and ukulele wall decorations, bookcase, obligatory ugly brown couch.
Here we can see a very small portion of my bathroom. The clean portion.
Features of note - ugly brown curtains, and rubber chicken that shocks every visitor to the bathroom, particularly my piano students. (Whenever anyone visits the bathroom, one hears a small gasp of alarm, a thoughtful pause, then a violent squealing sound as people are compelled to squeeze the chicken and make it squeak. At least, I hope that sound is the chicken).
To conclude, may I present a picture of myself sitting at the piano, wearing a silly hat and holding a rubber chicken, and attempting to figure out the self-timer camera function.
