Why? Cause I am good at it. I am not saying that to be cocky, but I am damn good at it. My brain sees things others don't. If I am in your house, bet your ass I am re-arranging your furniture in my head and silently decorating and painting your house from top to bottom. It's not that I don't like your decor ( I might not like it but I would never tell you) but that's what my brain does. It's a sickness I think sometimes. I pick up a little bird figurine or see a damn spoon and create a whole room and color scheme off of that one item.
Better Homes and Gardens is my bible... When most girls were reading YM or Seventeen Magazine I was already idolizing Martha Stewart and hoarding Ikea Catalogs ( Don't judge, I was 15) and BHG. I have hundreds of them. I take pages out and keep them in manila folders... I take pieces here and there and use that as a jumping off and turn it into my own idea.
But I can't do bathrooms. I don't know what it is that my brain cant see in them but I just cant plan them out.
I'll help you down to the color of the drawer organizer to hold your panties, but don't ask me what color to do your bathroom and don't even think about asking me about tile. I can't see it, that's where the brain goes blank.
My goal in life is to be in Better Homes and Gardens magazine. Wearing an obnoxiously preppy almost nautical outfit Why, you ask me again? Because I like stripes in my clothes. I look good in stripes and I like navy blue with white and yellow. Plus I love the ocean. Enough said.
Lately I have been itching. Itching to do SOMETHING in my house to make an impact. Just cleaning it everyday is no longer satisfying my urge. I bought new towels, that held me for like a second till the kids messed them up , fresh spring linens on the beds, that helped me for an hour... Re-arranged my glass front cabinets in the kitchen but nothing is fulfilling this appetite to decorate. It's like a physical pain I feel when I am unable to have my outlet.
SIDE NOTE : I think this is why I like to get a new apartment almost every single year, it was something new to decorate and organize and arrange... and why buying a house scared the hell out of me, I knew I would get restless.
But my living room, my home's center piece, my heart, is calling to me... Finish me... Make me beautiful... Tell your child to stop drawing on my walls so you can get new furniture already...and don't even get me started on that pathetic excuse of an area rug, HAVE YOU SEEN HOW BIG THIS ROOM IS?And you with your crappy ass little rug. Pffft, step up your game already Miss. I am a damn good decorator.
Oh yes it mocks me.
My living room windows are shouting... We need COLOR. We are boring and bare. Yea you made us nice blah curtains but we want to stand out, we deserve to, we are the most beautiful windows on the BLOCK ( it's technically a road, but I am from LI so it's still a block to me) and we need to be dressed up. MAKE US SOMETHING PRETTY WON'T YA, LAY?
And that BIG empty space between the living room and the dining room is taunting me daily yelling " Your husband is a carpenter, built ins woman, get the man to make some freaking built ins... Use your lady powers of persuasion... We need shelves with lots of books and maybe a big ol' clock and lots of art work and more birds, you love birds don't ya?"
Oh your house doesn't talk to you? Mine does. But it's past the point of polite suggestions, it's screaming at me now. All I can say is I know, I know, I am trying, I am getting there, Taylor only grows so fast, Trish can only make things so quickly, THERE'S ONLY SO MUCH MONEY, even with the 2nd hand, making it myself, garage sales and thrifting... Hey HOUSE, do I look like Donald Trump to you? Oh you thought those were my pockets over flowing with hundreds, sorry you must have mistaken someone else on the street for me... But did you see where wind blew some of those bills cause Momma needs decorate something...
If I had to compare it, it's like an addict looking for their next fix.
If I was single and had no kids, I would forgo food to decorate. Most women would do that for purses and shoes and clothes and don't get me wrong. I love them too, but not as much as I would coming home to a magazine worthy, white couched, airy and organized house.
If I had the money my house would be
And one day it will be, but for now slow and steady smothers the creative brain and ups the OCD meds...
So the "conversation" with my house continues...but if I don't get a room finished soon or get to make an impact somewhere to satisfy this urge, I might just be caught in the middle of the night with a paint brush and a color I will regret in the morning....
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