Pros: The duvet, the featherbed, the pretty.
Cons: The neighbor assholes, old radiator that kept me awake last night.
Split: The Ambien I didn't take but know I would have enjoyed.
*Honk-shoos, like the noise cartoon characters make when they sleep. I didn't make it up, one of my sisters did. Thank her.
This was taken by my BF with his iPhone, which is not exactly the equivalent of the SLR i normally shoot with. The SLR, that is, that happens to belong to him.
This picture is rad as hell! Why? Because Mike always does this. By 'this' I mean he takes pictures of things and emails me them rather than just emailing me to say "Yo we got a new smoke detector". I would make a 'picture is worth a thousand words' comment, but using that cliche would be really fucked up of me to do. To you.
Also: Look at that framing. Even with an iPhone! Yes, I am in awe of his skill, and he will probably always take better pictures than me.
Ok the gushing stops now! Get out of here.
And more than just sometimes. Things go bad, plants die, sometimes my sink smells really bad. Like right now.
Regardless! My pear timer from Ichiban Kan is impervious to my stupidity.
Look I'm really anti-tchotchke. I try to avoid buying do-nothing accessories (see my previous thoughts on clutter) but it's not my fault if I walk into Anthropologie and something sucks me into its pathetic vortex of adorableness!
I am defeated easily. Evidence above.
In a world where toilet paper is put on a pedestal!....is my world?
I don't know what I've become.
I picked this apartment for the floors, the built-ins, and the light. Check that out! I picked the chairs and tables because they're the shit. Even the battle scars are the shit.
I can't stop acquiring: home stuff, magazines. Witness here exhibits A and B: the magazines I had to start keeping in the magazine files I am so sick of that will probably be replaced in the near future.
I recycle my magazines and give them away, so shut up about being green or whatever you were going to say.
Do normal people get excited about new trash cans? Maybe not. But maybe that's what separates me from everyone else. That and my superhuman ability at the board game Scene It.
Those hoard-y people who come on Oprah and "have no idea" why their living rooms are filled with old magazines and empty snack packs totally creep me out.
I have come by a new OCD in the past couple years, that which cannot abide clutter. Ew. Don't get me wrong though; I super have clutter. I just think it sucks.
The only place I actually don't mind clutter at all is in my kitchen. Probably because it's small as shit. But I've installed bars and shelves and put in carts all in the name of coffee, toast, sammy-making, even just a place to open my candy — and all the crud in its place taking up every square inch is totally ok with me.
As obsessed with acquiring accessories as I am, sometimes it astounds me what stupid patterns emerge. They're stupid because I'll recognize them and really try to stop, but I just can't. OH YOU'RE GRAY* OR BLUE?! I MUST BUY YOU! Plus, check out my site colors right now. Ugh, I'm so lame.
*I really wrestled with myself re: writing 'grey' vs. 'gray'. It's too late for me to be as fabulous as I need to be to really own 'grey'. Sorry.
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