FotoFlat

Oh yeah, that's right, we stretched our own canvas, then the fabric, pulling and stapling like a Beverly Hills plastic surgeon. The payoff: def worth it.

I could give two turds if cupcakes are no longer the hot dessert trend. They still make me freak out.

There's finally something back behind the TV, where the nakedness was killing me. And it's Marimekko again! Oh and we DIY'ed the hell out of this. Yes it was rough, thank you for asking.

The dainty espresso cup and gdgt-stickered iPhone belong to the man half of this home.

This bowl of olives in no way represents anything about me, nor do I have any grand theses to declare based on its presence. It was just pretty.

So basically, Mike and I acknowledged that he needed a nightstand, but when we went to Ikea, I "pooh-poohed" (his term) his bedside table of choice. Needless to say, I feel totally bad about it and we're going back for it this weekend.

Judge it. Judge my bed. It's OK, I'm doing it too. I hate that I don't have some like, ensemble or whatever for my bed to wear. Like this perfect duvet and shams and I don't know, some long neck roll and a radical throw pillow you might find at say, DWR (yes, I'm stalking a new bed ensemble situation).

Anyways, this is its current dressings, pieced together from random past bedding I once thought was awesome, like the Dwell shams from the set I had to have last year. It's comfy, and that's what's important, right? Wrong! I want my bed to look 10 times cooler, so just you wait. Oh also, note that Mike's high school chair has been relegated back into the bedroom as a makeshift nightstand. It's totally sad and I feel really guilty about it. Tell you about it later.