Tag Archives: home decor

3 Reasons Why I Can’t Unpack Right Now

Or, 3 Reasons Why I’ve Worn the Same 4 Outfits to Work for Weeks

1. Moving drained my life force.

Packing up one’s entire domicile is a hideous undertaking. Not only do you have to spend hours carefully packing stuff like wine glasses and the trinkety crap from the mantel–you also have to worry about getting the curtain rods down (and how do you pack/transport curtain rods? or brooms for that matter? things that don’t fit in boxes drive me MAD) and taking pictures off the wall and cleaning out that weird dark closet under the stairs where the old litter boxes sit silently mouldering.

There are so many deeply annoying aspects to moving. I barely managed to survive them this time. All my energy went into staying sane for the few weeks before the move and now I’ve got nothing left. I’m a lifeless husk of my former self. I’ve turned into the Autumn-zombie.

Confession: I spent 45 minutes playing with the Dead Yourself app. In the end I couldn't put a zombie mouth on there cause I was too scared.

Confession: I spent 45 minutes playing with the Dead Yourself app. In the end I couldn’t zombify my mouth cause it was too scary and I wanted to cry.

2. There are too many TV shows.

Currently I am watching Buffy, Angel, Bones, New Girl, and Scandal. I recently finished the new Arrested Development and Firefly. Y’all. I can’t stop streaming. Send help.

Buffy

How did Joss Whedon make a show that is half campy horror and half profound exploration of the meaning of life? I’ll never understand.

Seriously, why is TV so good? I have spent so much time binge-watching on Netflix that my eyeballs ache in bright sun and there’s an Autumn-shaped imprint in my corner of the couch. I have lost the will to make my own food (thanks for keeping me alive, GrubHub) or wear real clothes.

I just need to finish the shows I’m watching now and then I’ll be good. Well, unless I start The West Wing. Or Alias. Or The X-Files. I heard those shows are dope, y’all.

3. Our new place needs some serious TLC.

Check out this toilet. I’m a little afraid to use it because I suspect it’s a secret portal to the 70s. Can you imagine speeding through time and space and arriving in the 70s via toilet? Not. Fly.

Yellow toilet

On the bright side, it’s not avocado green. I think that would be marginally worse.

As you can see, there is also carpet in the bathrooms, which registers like a 7.0 on the Ick-ter Scale. Plus the paint on all the walls and trim is dirty and faded and sad, and the “finished” basement is like a dungeon, if dungeons had orange-and-yellow carpet.

Don’t get me wrong, I actually like this place so much more than our last one. It’s super spacious and closer to work and in a great neighborhood and we’re saving *buckets* of money on rent. We can bike to work every day and we have a lovely patio and lots of natural light. The kitties adore it.

But it’s old and outdated and it will require some serious elbow grease (guys, by the way, wtf is elbow grease?) before it can be attractive and comfortable. And the problem is, most of the painting and decorating and camouflaging of yellow toilets needs to be done before I can fully, truly unpack. The thought is overwhelming. I’m completely paralyzed. Just…I can’t even. Hand me the remote somebody.

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5 Reasons Why My House (Or, Technically, Condo) Is Almost Put Together But Not Quite

Or, 5 Reasons Why I Continue to Experience Facial Tics Whenever I Stroll About My Domain*

1. The living room wall is bare.

Pictures of my house always end up looking like the cat version of Where’s Waldo?

Y’all, this wall is huuuuuuge. It really needs something special to draw the eye, and though I finally came up with something, I haven’t found the time or (let’s be real) the courage to put it together. Here’s my idea for a three-canvas hand-painted mural large enough to span most of the width of the couch:

Imagine a few inches of space between each canvas where those black lines are. It’s the height of elegant yet folky self-aware nerdiness, no?

I spent a couple hours designing this and I’ve got the canvases primed and ready, but I haven’t yet busted out the brushes and smock. Artoo really deserves to look his best, so the dork in me feels a lot of pressure to get this perfect, and I’m no artist so the whole thing is kind of intimidating. I’m thinking of finally tackling it this weekend. For the right effect, I should probably, you know, get a beret. And set up an easel by a south-facing window. And turn on French accordion music. And possibly contract tuberculosis. Really get that artisty vibe going, if you feel me.

2. The front entry needs furnishing.

All that’s missing are some weeds and a rusty old hubcap.

What I’d really like here is a non-pile-of-junk. As you can see, I have the opposite right now. I’ve been scouring Craigslist for a small buffet or sofa table or even baker’s rack that might serve as a nice decorative piece and also functional landing strip for the front door entry—but no dice. I guess for now I’ll have to live with a giant cardboard box, a folding tray, and a heap of shoes instead. Welcome to our home! ::massages temples::

3. The bar/buffet is lackluster. 

Thank you, Trader Joe’s, for making it possible for us to buy an entire case of wine without going bankrupt. #livingthedream

I painted this brown a couple years ago when it was against a light wall in a room with a bright sofa and chairs. But now it looks blah next to the taupe walls and dark cherry-ish stain of the other furniture in the area. I’m thinking I should paint it a sort of medium slate blue, perhaps? I’m feeling like there’s not enough blue in my life right now. However, the last time I painted something in our garage I nearly killed us (I didn’t realize high-gloss spray paint fumes were that toxic, gah), so I feel kind of reluctant to haul out the drop cloth once more. But seriously, this thing is so boring it makes me grind my teeth.

4. The nightstands look grouty.

Ick. The edges look like they’re coated in dried crumbly toothpaste.

Grouty is too a word. Shush. So I tiled the tops of these black end tables before we moved with a pretty coppery glass mosaic (don’t you just lurrrrves it?) and they turned out beautifully, except for the fact that I couldn’t be bothered to put a little wood strip as a border. Mistake. The light-colored grout around the edges looks grainy and messy and unprofessional and I just want to SCREAM. I was thinking I could get some black caulk and smooth it over the edges? What do you think? Is black caulk even a thing?

5. The craft/storage area is wonky.

Yarn, yarn ball winder, craft paints, brushes, sponges, glue gun, glue sticks, software, music CDs, headphones, chargers, device accessories, Irish tin whistles, recorders, guitar, photos, wedding videos, memorabilia, sewing machine, pins, scissors, thread, notions, fabric, stationary, checks, post-its, notebooks, pens, pencils, markers, printer paper, coupons, file box, manuals/warranties, extension cords, tote bags, throw pillow covers, candlesticks, candles, knick-knacks, and seasonal decor.

Help me, Craiglist—you’re my only hope. I seriously need a giant but cheap entertainment center or armoire in which to stash all this stuff. I’m obsessively organized, yes, so it’s at least neatly arranged and contained. But it still looks junky and cluttered and I want it to disappear behind some cabinet doors STAT. Lately, since my Craiglist search has been unsuccessful, I’ve been considering building something out of plywood and MDF and using cute fabric panels instead of doors to hide everything. But for that I’d need a Dremel (drrooolll), and believe me, I don’t need to be giving myself an excuse to buy power tools right now.

*I am omitting “The light carpet is a godawful hideous dingy disgusting disaster that never EVER looks clean no matter what I do” from this list because we are just renters and a girl only has so much control over these things, ok? ::crazy eyes:: 

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