I’m finally done moving out of my apartment. after two weeks of selling furniture, giving things away, and contributing to the ever popular street furniture, I am officially outta there. it’s bittersweet as that apartment was my cove for the past two years, allowing me the ultimate privacy to do the soul searching I needed. the smell. the rooms. the cracks in the paint which hold the laughter and talks conducted in close quarters. after I did my last walk around to make sure I had the stuff I actually needed I stopped for a moment staring down my long narrow hallway, the infamous runway America’s Next Top Model hallway where many girl friends – and even a few boys – strut their stuff. I took one last leg up and sashayed down, Cindy Crawford-style. put my keys on the mantel. blew my living room a kiss. then shut the door. leave on a high note. I’ve been reminiscing about my memories created within the walls of my old one bedroom. I will not forget you. I’m positive this move is in the right direction. to new beginnings. to freedom.

here’s a shot of my bathroom. the room that took the longest to pack. the bathroom of a beauty editor.

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