A Girl...

Out with the Old, In with the New

Lots of changes around here. New bookshelf, new duvet set, new (semi-working) ads in the sidebar, which itself is overdue for an overhaul. I think it's also time for a new banner, but since the current one will probably make a brief appearance in my AlphaMom interview (remember that?), I feel like I should leave it alone until that gets on the airwaves, or netwaves, or wherever they're going to broadcast my overly official spaz attack whilst wearing beautiful, professionally done makeup. Also, we're still in the throes of moving house, so it's probably best if I limit my projects to 453 instead of overloading myself, so for now the sidebar and banner updates will have to wait.

(I just used "over" four times in one paragraph without even trying. Either I'm losing it or I've still got it, baby!)

The new bookshelf is up and filled and now officially operational. (Please ignore the remaining clutter on either side.)

Yes, we got shelf-lighting. Boo-ya. If you listen close, you can hear my father weeping with joy that his little girl has not only found a man who enjoys Dynamic Lighting Solutions for Our Home, but also has the handi-aptitude to install them himself. We will, however, need some help putting up the new chandelier when you come for Thanksgiving, Dad, so it's not like you've been replaced or anything. (I'm not being cheeky; we really did get a ($17) chandelier.)

So now we have another room in the house that feels "done," and sitting on the couch watching Hour 33 of Dune last night felt like an event; the blankets were folded, the new red velvet curtains were drawn, there weren't leaning stacks of unfiled CDs on every flat surface, and there was only one rogue rollerblade littering the newly vacuumed rug. "Fancy," I kept saying, because that's what it felt like. I also decided that I shall henceforth call the curtains in that room "drapes" because "drapes" is somehow more suited to a fancy environment, no?

But is it too fancy? I kept thinking, noticing that the display items resemble artifacts that might be found in the Ethnic Knicknack Section of Pier 1. We figured that the African carved heads (from Africa!), the ivory animals (before it was illegal!), the tabletop gong, and the Chinese wish box--though each lovely in its own right--might be a little too pretentious when put on lit shelves all together like some sort of museum exhibit, so that's how we ended up with an Indiana Jones action figure propped heroically in the center square (because it's the movie-watching room, and he's a movie character, and also because he's an archaeologist an so nicely coordinates with the framed gold Buddah statue). Note also that Darth Vader made it too, as did Gollum, although without a light because I don't like the way he stares at me with those bulgy little ceramic orbs.

Anyway, the room looks fantastic (despite Simon's experiment in artful asymmetry along the top of the shelves) but, most of all, it's clean, which is nice because it's our one refuge from the otherwise pervasive chaos. We didn't move a single thing out of my house this weekend because, although we spent Saturday night and Sunday morning there, we couldn't put any boxes in the car because it was full of stuff from our third trip to Ikea in five days. It's a sickness.

A sickness that can be nursed back to health from a bed made up with a brand new duvet cover and coordinating pillow tube, aka the Tootsie Roll of Love, aka the TROL.

I fought Simon a little over the girly flower pattern, but now that I've seen how it works in the room, I must admit defeat. It does make everything look comfy and fluffy and homey; I'm sorry I was a doubter and a naysayer and tried to convince you that we should go with something stronger and bolder and less like a fresh bouquet and a breath of sunshine in winter. That sound you hear? My mother weeping with joy that her little girl has found a man with good taste in bed linens.

Other tears of joy this weekend include those shed on behalf of Stan, who was caged and then driven an excruciating mile away to the home of one of my coworkers, who graciously agreed to take him on a temporary basis, until her boyfriend falls in love with him and can't bear to be parted until we find him a permanent home. He was not happy with the transport...

...but he LOVED being in the new place. We planned to do the whole isolate-him-in-one-room-so-he-feels-secure thing, but within about two minutes, he'd made the rounds of the bedroom and then thrust his little paw under the French doors to open them into the living room. Once that area was assessed and declared sufficient, he thrust a paw under the bathroom door to open it, and then made his way from there into the kitchen, where he flopped down in a patch of sunshine. Well, then. So long, pretty boy. It was fun while it lasted.

(We are still officially looking for a permanent home for Stan, so if you live in or near the Bay Area and have room in your life for a very large, very sweet tabby, please let me know. We're no longer desperate at this point, but we'd like to get him settled somewhere as soon as possible.)

Posted by Leah at October 23, 2006 03:00 PM