Dear Reader
In an old apartment building in Hollywood, not covered in vines, lived twelve little gay guys, in two straight lines.
…Well, not really, but you get the picture. I live in this crazy apartment building where a lot of my friends happen to live and as you can imagine, it is filled with titillating gay drama, glamourous rooftop parties, and devious boyfriend stealing. I moved here last year after admiring the building for years. Mainly because it’s the best color ever, mint green, which totally goes with the mid-century style of the building. It was built in 1949 and hasn’t had much updates since, which probably endangers my life greatly, but is sure pretty to look at. The building sits near the border of West Hollywood, but is technically in Hollywood. This is good because it means it’s just fancy enough that I can walk around without getting stabbed (hopefully) but just gritty enough that I can tell people I live in Hollywood and they will be a little scared and wonder if I am a drug dealer and/or thief (Sidenote: I am neither, unless you count stealing America’s heart as thievery). I know most people don’t aspire to live in kitschy apartment buildings, but I must say I’m thankful for my place every day. It’s very warm and inviting and feels like home.
My favorite thing about the building is its palm trees. One sits right outside my window and greets me every morning.
Strangely, I also love the power lines outside. Even though they are probably, like, giving me cancer as we speak. Rude.
I love all the original railings on the building. So simple and geometric.
The cathedral windows look slightly strange from the outside of the building but are a dream on the inside because they provide floor-to-ceiling light. It’s illegal to install them now because they kill you instantly in an earthquake. Or something. I think I just made that up.
Don’t you love the lush landscaping combined with the crazy power lines? Like Hannah Montana, it truly is the best of both worlds.
My street, nestled at the base of the Hollywood Hills, is pretty cute too. Lots of mid-century apartment buildings and vast green lawns (which by the way are native to Los Angeles and not at all a disastrous waste of water).
Everything is minty aqua green, just like in my complexion every time I hear that Gotye song that they are totally playing into the ground right now. Gotye, your song is somebody that I wish I used to know.
This is our pool, where daily drama occurs. Usually involving someone accusing someone else of stealing his boyfriend, which is followed by a martini being thrown in someone’s face and the other one getting thrown in the pool screaming, “You’re dead to me!” Actually that never happens but I would be so much happier if it did.
This is my upstairs neighborfriends’ deck. They had custom stripe cushions made in classic black and white. Luxury.
Because California has some of the prettiest sunsets on earth, our rooftop provides the perfect place for a nice glass of wine at dusk..
I hope you enjoyed these images of my apartment’s exterior. A wise person once said not to judge a book by it’s cover. But in the case of my apartment, I’m glad I did.
Love,
Orlando
