scrawls.

scrawls

still cheaper than therapy*

22.8.07

not a tchotchke person

barring the dog toys, anyway.

the apartment is not quite exactly out of the IKEA catalog - which doesn't have dog crates - but damn close. Damn close. basic lines, easy curves, big blocky pieces of headstrong color. there are only two things i can see that are purely decorative: a pair of river shells we brought from Texas securely wrapped in a couple of socks each, one black oyster and one creamy, broken clam. and while the pine table and bookshelf could probably use finishing (probably? who am i kidding? it's just theoretically unhealthy for me to be inhaling paint fumes right now) - bleh. they're functional enough. The previous inhabitant left us two vases and a fish-shaped wind chime. the vases are a problem as far as storage goes: but at least the kitchen cabinets are tall enough that i wouldn't put anything else that high anyway. M can't reach them either, the tops, and it's a pretty sure thing they're layered in dust, but this is me not being in a place that cares. But i like having places for stuff. Boxes to put things in. it pisses me off to no end that i can't hide the water heater behind a door. Big tubs where i can toss all sorts of crap and not have to look at it, not have it be a constant yes, i have four and a half beanie babies kind of thing. Any kind of hidden storage. it's the leftover rebel-without-a-cause-i-ness in me, i think. also easier to clean, for extra rebel-without-a-cause-y points. certain psychological overreaction to being a child of a refugee. Oy, what i'm putting on my kid, i don't want to know.

i like boxes.

So going to the fancy porcelain store (and, at that, the oldest breakables dealership in the city: 1702, i think) and buying stunningly pretty (and also, arguably useful) things is great fun. Every once in a while. More fun than browsing crate & barrel registries. and that is enough.

Labels: emptor, house

scrawled @ 12:01