Blogagaard Reflects on Six Months of Studio Living

Ah, has it been six months already? Six months of bumping into shit, of watching the living room TV while deeply reclined in bed? Six months of living beneath the Judy Garland Sound Machine? Remarkable. Truly remarkable. Sure, we've seen a lot of changes around here. Remember when I got that paper Ikea lamp back from my ex-girlfriend and put it near my sink? Remember when I got my landlord to fix the showerhead, releasing a new, refreshening torrent of hot water? And who can forget that time I lined up all my VHS & DVD recordings next to my VCR & DVD player? The aesthetic ramifications continue to echo throughout the earth's atmosphere to this very day.

For those who've been with me from the begining, way back when, you'll be interested to know the powerplant across the street from my apartment has had no discernable effect on my already electrifying personality. Indeed, I'm about as wired as usual, although I was recently at a party where I got so excited by the humorous cat society I'd imagined aloud that I had to go outside and breathe deeply of the chilling air.

So here's to you, basement studio apartment. May you be easy to defend in the event of a city-wide zombie attack, and may your rent always be dirt cheap.