The Chick Cave

So, finally, after much delay... pictures of The Chick Cave.  Taken at night, so I'll have to grab y'all some exterior shots when it's light.

In the meantime, for your viewing pleasure, help yourselves to the shoddily photographed nickel tour!

My dwelling is what's called a "walkout basement", which means that I live in someone's basement, but have my own entrance.  My "front door" is the garage, with a padded security opener.  Upon entering the interior garage door, I land at a shared vesitbule that I share with my landlady, Amy.

From there, my private entry looks down into the Chick Cave...

This flight of stairs descends into what I refer to as Subterreanean-Chic-Meets-Functional-Bohemian.  Look on, and you'll see what I mean.  At the bottom of the stairs sits this trinket shelf, highlighted by some recessed lighting.

This is my grandmother's clock, a Seth Thomas, that is over 100 years old. 

The living room, as those of you who know me well will note, is decorated far beyond my abilities.

The chair and couch were already in the apartment, and because MC and I could not get the love seat or the "porn" couch down the narrow flight of stairs, I just went with what was in here.  For the legions of fans of the "porn" couch, do not fear.  It is safely tucked in storage. 

I am still toying with lighting, as the string of fluorescent lights is a little harsh, especially after sitting under them all day long at work.

I bought the pub table set from a young couple before I left Redding.  MC and I high-fived over not paying asking price.  It fits perfectly in my cozy little space.  The built-in desk, as you can see, has become sort of a catch all, as I never really use it as a desk.  Most of my lap-top shenanigans happen on the couch, bed, or preferably, somewhere outside in the great viewshed of Colorado's Frontrange.

This is a view from near my kitchen area.

The kitchen shelves just got rebuilt, along with the closet shelving and hanging rods that collapsed a few weeks back.  Ladies, of particular note, all-- and I mean ALL-- of the tupperware on that shelf has its appropriate corresponding lid with it.  This has been the case for 39 days and counting!

My kitchen, in this modest apartment, is bigger than the kitchen in the 1700+ square foot house I came from in California.  Strange how things work that way.  And yes, that IS my scale on the kitchen floor.  It lives there because my bathroom is small.  The up side to it is that its current location really makes me think before I eat...

Yep, it's Shelby.  When I was packing to move, I couldn't bear to leave this picture behind.  At the moment, it's pretty much the only thing on my frig, until I get a little more settled.  And it's been a good thing.  Every person that has visited me here has asked me about her.  Some presume that it's a picture of my daughter, Katie.  I eagerly explain to people that Shelby is not my daughter, but she could be.  Or she could be their daughter.  We all need to continue to spread the word about the dangers of drinking, especially for teens.  The message is the same in Colorado as it is in California.  Drinking+Vomiting=911.

This, some might argue, is the world's least used stove.  I seem to only be cooking about once a week.  Figuring out portions for one is a challenge, so I eat lots and lots of leftovers.

This is a half-shot of my bathroom, merely to show off the shelf that I assembled all by myself.  :-)  The bathroom is small, but not the smallest I've ever had.  Joanie and Linda and my family can probably attest to the fact that my bathroom when I lived in Quincy was about as small as they come.  I'm grateful I have a little more space than that here.

The bedroom is huge, compared to the rest of this place.  I love it!  I am not entirely sold on the bed set, but I got it at a great price.  Funny thing, I found the heart in a box of old stuffed trinkets when I was unpacking.  Robbie Geeter gave that to me the summer between 8th and 9th grades.  It was on a hot Shingletown day when we were riding three-wheelers.  He had gotten it for me from Circus Circus on a family vacation.  I'm doing the math... that was 27 years ago.  Good grief.  Crazy, huh?

I've gotten a few pictures up, lopsidedly so.  I probably need someone to come in and help me with this.  These are the kind of decorative touches at which I regularly fail.

These are two of my bedroom closets.  I have no qualms about leaving closet doors open, since all my weird relatives and skeletons are back in California.  ::Note to family:  time to draw straws to see who has to admit they're my 'weird' relative!::  :-)

The wide closet is the one that had the meltdown a few weeks ago.  All of a sudden, the entire rod and shelf came tumbling down, shearing hangers, and leaving a heap of clothes.  Apparently, my wardrobe was just too much.  Since then, with all the weight loss, I've gotten rid of a lot of clothing, and Amy had someone come in and reinforce everything in the closet so that it should be able to withstand whatever shopping I decide to do eventually in replenishing my wardrobe.

Also note the guitar.  Lessons start in two weeks!

This, is my single window in the entire Cave.  I am looking forward to the summer when I can keep the drapes and blinds open more regularly.  The plant and the empty soda bottle are from MC.  He left me the plant the day he flew back to California.  The plant came with a card thanking me.  He had just driven me 1200 miles, loaded and unloaded furniture and boxes, and he was thanking ME for things.  It's a huge blessing to have such a good friend.  The soda bottle showed up (full, of course) at my old house, on February 3rd, along with a pretty red rose.  It was THE day that I had seriously thought about backing out of this adventure.  Fear, criticism, pressure, sorrow, heartache, betrayal, were all pressing in.  A soda and a flower reminded me that I don't always hold myself in as much esteem as others do.  And for no good reason.  Sometimes, just knowing that someone else believes in you makes all the difference.  I like to remind myself now that it doesn't matter whether that bottle is empty or full, it just is.  And that's more than enough.

That, ladies and gentlemen, concludes this tour.  Feel free to come back for a visit any time.  :-)