So I’ve finally more or less gotten this place to looking like I want it to. Only took me 9 fucking months. The lighting in these is horrible; everything’s either dim or washed out by over lighting.
Things I’m happy with here:
1. That CD tower is the only thing I have ever purchased from Ikea of which I am not ashamed.
2. Shiny, cat-sand-free floors. God bless you, Murhpy’s Wood Cleaner.
Things I am less than thrilled with:
1. That mirror is neither round nor brass-framed, as I had hoped.
2. See the top of that wooden chair in the lower right-hand corner? The reason I positioned this shot to exclude the seat of that chair is because Maple likes to use it as toilet paper when she’s got diarrhea.
Things I’m happy with:
1. Sofa! Obviously. That sofa is the prize at the end of a year-long search. It is exactly the right balance of taut, clean lines and nap-ability. A+.
2. Lamp! Exactly the right balance of maternal grandmother’s ranch house’s kitschy mid-century ambiance and paternal grandmother’s Victorian manor’s stoic opulence. Could there be a more fitting way to honor the confluence of my decorative heritage for less than $35? I think not.
Things about which I am ambivalent:
1. Rug. (You can just barely make it out under the sofa. Fucking disposable cameras, man).
Quick lecture on the emotional perils of rug shopping OR
Quick monologue illustrating the petty, self-absorbed, materialistic mental state of your average middle-class citizen in AD 2011. Take your pick.
I have this normally unshakable belief that everything short of a car should be able to be acquired for less than $50 if you’re smart and persistent enough. Rug shopping is the only time when that belief really ever gets a good jostling. If you want something decent, you have to spend at least $100, which makes me sick at my stomach. If that weren’t bad enough, trying to find a good-quality rug with a modern design for less than $500 is nothing short of a miracle. I don’t even think they make genuine-wool rugs in modern patterns.
I got this one for $150 at a going-out-of-business sale. It’s supposed to be worth $850, which is some consolation for having had to pay triple my normal limit. I like the design OK; I just wish it were a little bit busier. The solid polygons of color feel a bit drab in a room filled with solid colors and dark woods. But it’s nylon, which is the next best material after wool, and it’s pretty high-pile, so it’s comfortable. I guess I should just shut up and count my blessings.
2. That gold chair in the corner? It’s Maple’s favorite spot when she’s got extra-runny diarrhea. She respects me enough to never use the sofa, which is the only silver lining to this shit-colored cloud that is my life.
Cat condos now occupy a plurality of the space in my bedroom. More space than the bed, even. It is so hard to stop myself daydreaming about joining these two with a little bridge (like a kitty tree fort!), you have no idea.
This is Big Orange. He looks a little demonic in this picture, but he’s just stunned from the flash on the camera.
The courtyard is what ultimately sold me on this place despite its being about 20 blocks further out than I would have liked. It is so, so nice to walk outside into this bucolic scene each morning instead of the dirty asphalt of a parking lot.
The lady who does all of the landscaping is my next-door neighbor, Stacey. I needed fresh parsley for something I was making yesterday, and instead of having to walk 10 minutes to the Fred Meyer, I just moseyed on out to the vegetable garden and ripped off a few sprigs. Thanks, Stace.
So not quite perfect. The walls are a little too bare; the cat’s a little too destructive; the neighborhood’s a little too suburban. But it’s a big improvement on the last apartment.