Monday, March 31, 2008

Delayed Appreciation.

This is my mother's co-op living room. And since the day she got this apartment, I have thought it to be adequate, cozy, and comfortable. It was not until recently, as I tentatively begin my search to leap into ownership, that I see the light.  Her living room is "palatial," "too roomy," "filled with echoes" if I were to compare it to recent finds.

I have learned that adequate is an antonym in and of itself in regards to apartment ads. If a seller manages to muster up all of their creative abilities, glossing up their best assets, and come up with the word "adequate," I suggest to run as far and fast as you can in another direction. Barely sufficient or suitable is not an option when you have to fit in furniture made for adults.

"Cozy" has long since been my favorite word. Even when I first began looking for a rental, what feels like an eternity ago, I had been sent to a cozy apartment.  This particular "space" did not come with a parking spot, because it was actually a converted one-car garage.  Outdoor shingles instead of drywall, and a clothesline spanning from one side of the apartment in lieu of, you guessed it, a closet. I appreciated the referral, but that was probably the most hopeless I have ever found myself in a search to find a home.  After I moved in to my place, a friend complimented my bedroom, saying it looked "cozy," and I could barely squeak out a thanks.  Needless to say, I am avoiding "cozy" properties until my memory becomes a little fuzzier.

The word "comfortable" is perhaps the most elusive of all. A word so painfully open to interpretation should not be used to describe a place someone will inhabit. Period. I just went to see "comfortable" studio/townhouse conversion. One might ask what that is, as I did, and I can say it is a maniacal ploy to waste a home-buyer's time. Think of a small studio space. Now think of it split diagonally in half, and add in a full stairwell to split the place in two. That way, instead of having just a bedroom set, or just a living room set, you can have neither! Sound comfortable to you?  I mean, yes, I could breath comfortably in the space, my legs didn't cramp up and I'm sure if I purchased a bed to fit inside, sleep would come to me. I was under the assumption that "comfortable" would lend itself to actually living inside of a space with furniture and a guest or two. 

My momma always said that when you assume, you make an ass out of u and me.

No comments: