I am fascinated by storms. I am terrified by storms. In summary, I have mixed feelings about storms. I have always loved thunderstorms, particularly when I can watch them from a (well-covered) porch. In a rocking chair. In Kentucky. There … Continue reading
My cat Scarlett is so ladylike. Modesty is her middle name. (Where is the upper half of her body??) She has no shame. She’s always so well groomed. Not. She HATES to be brushed. She does have dainty little paws. … Continue reading
I have been working hard to make my apartment feel like home since I moved in almost 4 weeks ago. I brought with me most of my major furniture so I’m just missing the smaller accent pieces like a coffee table and an end table.
And barstools for my desk so I have a real place to eat a meal instead of on the sofa.
And an armoire for my bedroom, but that may take me a while to find just the one and, thanks to my closet handywork, it’s not critical.
Here’s a peak at the situation:
Currently, I have a pair of lovely storage bins from Walmart acting as my coffee table. It’s a great look, don’t you think?
I think the label really sets it off.
And here is my end table. Who knew that not only were the pots and pans useful, but also that the box they come in is the ideal end table height when turned up sideways?
This may start a trend. I think it will be called “makeshift chic.”
While it may be a while before I upgrade my “tables,” I have been making considerable progress on the dreadful, soul-sucking white walls that come standard in my apartment complex.
I painted my kitchen and my bedroom in the past 24 hours and I painted my bathroom last week. (I will post pictures once I get everything accessorized.)
My cats were super helpful with the painting.
Not.
They slept all day in the sun.
Can I be a cat?
The room in which they spent their leisurely afternoon is giving me some heartburn. Not only does it have the makeshift tables and a chairless desk/dining table, but it also has lots of different walls that catch light very differently. This is making it difficult to find a color that looks good on all of the walls throughout the day.
By the time I decide which color to go with, the walls will probably be covered in paint swatches, I will have taken out a loan for paint and it will probably be time to move.
I think I am up to 8 colors so far and they all are either too gray, too yellow, too green, too light or too dark. I’m seriously considering mixing some of them together to get my ideal color and then taking it to the paint store and having them color match it.
This is my “dining” area that houses my enormous desk and will also serve as a place to eat once I get some barstools…
So this is how all of the colors look on this wall.
This is the space between the living and dining areas on the window wall, which is perpendicular to the wall with the desk. It is the darkest wall.
This is the wall opposite the desk wall on the other side of the rectangular room, behind my sofa.
I swear, these are all the same color swatches on each wall even though they look quite different.
Turning another 90 degrees, this wall is opposite the main window wall and thus receives the most natural light. This is where we see the true colors.
Doesn’t that white make you want to cry? It does me.
And these are two more walls that form a bar-height counter around my kitchen. That little bit of chair rail on the right is part of the desk wall.
Congratulations, we have just completed a 360 degree turn around the room.
There are actually 3 other walls that will also be the same color in my entry way, however trying to add them into the mix for consideration might just send me over the edge.
It’s a miracle that I can get dressed in the morning.
So you see, I have a lot of walls to consider and the lighting is kind of drastic, not only from one wall to the next, but throughout the course of the day since my apartment is South-facing.
These pictures make the colors look a little bit greener than they actually are, but if anyone wants to vote, please feel free to leave a comment. (I don’t know how you will possibly describe to me which color it is since they are painted haphazardly and differently on each wall, but it’s worth a shot.)
You would think this would be easy for me since I’m a designer. While I know exactly what to suggest for clients, it’s really hard to do my own place. Please send help.
Y’all come back,
Sugarlump
Since moving into my new apartment, I’ve been having some coffee problems. My grandmother bought me the cutest little 4-cup coffee maker and I was so excited to try it out. It’s designed a little bit differently than the coffee … Continue reading
When my sister and I would visit our family in Kentucky in the summer as young kids, we had a bit of a ritual. My cousins, my sister and I would make the long-awaited trip to….
RITE AID!
To the average person, that may not seem very exciting. In fact, for many people it falls into the category of “errands,” thus making such a trip dull and uninteresting.
My cousins, my sister and I, however, lived for Rite Aid in the summer. Papa would give us each $10 or $20 and take us to Rite Aid, where we really knew how to stretch a buck.
My sister, Eugene (who is 4 years younger than I am), and my cousin Kristen (who is 5 1/2 years younger than I am) were still pretty small when we would go to Rite Aid so they bought toys and bubbles and things. My cousin Lauren (who is 2 ½ years younger than I am) and I, however, were quite serious about our purchases that would entertain us for the next three weeks. We spent our money on…
OFFICE SUPPLIES!
Exciting, no?!
No?
Oh. Ok. Well, Lauren and I thought it was exciting.
We would play “passport service,” a game we invented and probably spent hundreds, if not thousands, of hours playing when we were young. To play passport service, we needed paper and index cards and pens and highlighters and hole-punchers and paper clips and lots of office-y things. And gum. We always left room in the budget for a package of bubblicious gum. That was our one splurge. Other than that, our purchases were strictly business.
You probably think I’m making this up, but I have evidence:
See how proudly we were displaying our Rite Aid bags? We were very serious and enthusiastic about Rite Aid. Papa was just glad to have his polecats together.
Sadly, about 10 years ago, the Rite Aid went out in Burkesville. We wore black for a month.
Not really, but we certainly took it hard.
There is currently a cowboy store in the former Rite Aid location and I can’t bring myself to go in there because I haven’t gotten over Rite Aid closing yet.
R.I.P. Burkesville Rite Aid. Thanks for all of the good times and practical purchases.
Y’all come back now, ya hear?
Sugarlump
When I moved into my apartment, I was able to find a place for most things fairly quickly. Books go on the bookshelves, dishes go in the kitchen cabinets, sofa goes in the living room, cats go wherever they please, etc.
My clothes, however, were a different story. I am fortunate that my small apartment has a good size bedroom closet. The only problem is that it is set up for hanging space only. I’m sure the apartment was designed with the expectation that the tenant would bring a dresser or armoire, which most normal people have, but I do not yet own one. Eventually, I hope to buy a really neat, antique armoire with shelf and drawer space, but that will take lots of searching and deliberating and may not happen for many months/years.
While I pondered this dilemma, my folded clothes, bags and shoes sat in boxes and even larger bags on my bedroom floor for about a week, which I found to be thoroughly irritating.
This is actually a fairly cleaned up version of my room before I had shelving in the closet:
I like to be organized and for everything to be in its place so this was a bit challenging for me. I had to dig through boxes and piles of clothes to find an outfit for a meeting or Church or just any outfit that didn’t look ridiculous in public.
More boxes…
It probably would have been easier to find things if I had labeled the boxes…but that would have made the box situation far too manageable.
I perused the isles at Lowes, Home Depot and Bed Bath and Beyond, waiting for just the closet solution to jump out at me. I didn’t want to spend a ton of money on some fancy system, but I also didn’t want something that was going to fall apart. A few days into my search, I found some simple, metal racks with 3 adjustable shelves.
There was a lot of assembly required…
The directions specified that this was a 2 person assembly job due to the dangerousness of the metal objects.
Somehow, I survived the assembly of 4 shelving units.
And this is what my closet looks like post shelf-lift:
This brings me joy.
I have fairly high ceilings so I actually put one of the shelving units on a high shelf for my “winter-ish” items that I don’t need to wear at this time since we are averaging 75 degrees in Nashville.
After testing the limits of the upholstered stools in my room by jumping on them in order to sling purses onto the top shelf, I decided it was probably a good idea to invest in a proper step-ladder to prevent any injuries to me or my upholstered stools.
Meet my new best friend:
Look at all of that glorious shelf space.
Clearly, I could use an internship at J. Crew where everything is folded perfectly, but I was just so happy to have shelf space that it appears I let it get the best of my folding skills.
One thing that irks me is that the shelves in the unit on the far right do not line up with the shelves in the other two units. This is not a mistake; I had to make them higher so my Uggs would fit underneath, but nonetheless it bothers me. Maybe I should adjust the other two so they are higher?
I know, I need help.
Sadly, all of my shoes did not make it into the closet due to a lack of space. Luckily, I brought along my trusty door-hanging shoe organizer from college that has 30 shoe slots. I have been known to pack 50 pairs of shoes into this thing so I’m very glad to have it. The alternative was to line up my shoes around the perimeter of my room, which would have kept me up at night.
While it would have been ideal to hang this on the back of my closet door, there is not enough depth between the door and the wall to accommodate the shoe rack. Thus, the shoe rack is hanging on the back of my bedroom door. Not perfect, but at least my shoes are off the floor and can be hidden from sight when my door is open.
I am hoping that when I finally find the perfect armoire I can put a lot of my folded items in it and then use the metal racks in the closet for my shoes.
I can’t wait to find that armoire so I can worry about more important things like what color I’m going to paint my kitchen.
Y’all come back now, ya hear?
Sugarlump
It’s official: I’m a Tennessean.
Yesterday, I got my TIN-ne-see driver’s license. When I walked into the DMV, there were about 15 or 20 people in the waiting area so I figured things would go pretty quickly.
I walked up to the desk and told the woman I would like to get a Tennessee license. I had read about the required paperwork online prior to my visit and believed that I was adequately prepared with my birth certificate, current Massachusetts license, car insurance, front page of my lease, and my social security number.
Apparently I needed the LAST page of my lease with both signatures, not the front one. The lady informed me that this was no big deal and requested that I have my apartment office fax over the last page of the lease.
So I stepped out to call the apartment office and requested that they fax over the correct papers. What’s that? They don’t fax leases? Oh. You have to come into the apartment office to pick up a copy of the lease personally. Bummer.
I walked out of the DMV and drove 10 minutes back to my apartment, asked the nice lady to make me a copy of the signed pages of my lease and in 10 minutes I was on my way back to the DMV. Sure that I had lost my place in line, I went back to the woman at the desk and requested a new number. She asked to see my original ticket number and then promptly handed it back to me and said:
“You’re fih-ne.” As in, my number had not yet been called.
Wonderful! I didn’t lose my place in line. Surely it will just be a few more minutes.
Or hours.
2 hours later, after checking my email, the news, and people.com on my phone 93 times, my number was called.
Things went fairly quickly after that. I barely could see the third column for the eye test, but I passed.
As the woman was giving me back all of my paperwork, I asked her if she would be giving me my Massachusetts license back. She smiled and this is what I thought she said:
“We keep the old ones, but we’re about to give you a ten-cent one.”
I smiled politely and said, “Oh ok!” (What? A ten-cent license?)
Reflecting on this exchange as I was waiting to have my picture taken, it occurred to me that she actually said “a Tennessee license.” (Duh.) I guess I haven’t completely mastered the accent yet.
Thoroughly famished, I left the DMV beaming like I had won the lottery, with my “ten-cent” license in hand.
Today, I psyched myself up for going to get my Tennessee registration and license plate. I decided to eat lunch BEFORE embarking on this journey, which I expected to be even more of a process than getting my license.
I went to get my oil changed, then to have an emissions test done, and finally headed to the county clerk’s office for my registration and license plate.
I walked into the office and there was no one in line. There was hope for an afternoon of productivity. The nice lady, Wilma, called me up to her station and requested my paperwork, which thankfully this time I had in its entirety.
The whole ordeal took about 5 minutes and I mentioned to Wilma that I was pleasantly surprised by how quick and painless this process was. I told her that I had been to the DMV yesterday and before I could tell her how many hours I had spent there, she chuckled and said:
“Did you bring your lunch? Man, I dread goin’ over there.”
I laughed and told her I will definitely pack a snack next time.
She chuckled some more and then typed a few things. And then chuckled. And then chuckled some more. And then a little bit more. She handed me back my paperwork. Chuckle. Chuckle. Apparently Wilma thought I was a hoot.
I liked Wilma.
A few minutes later, I walked out the proud owner of a Tennessee license plate and registration.
So it’s official, I’m now a TIN-ne-see-yan.
Y’all come back now, ya hear?
Sugarlump
I got a new camera today.
It’s a belated graduation gift from my parents. Belated, not because my parents are slackers, but because I can never make up my mind about anything related to myself. With my clients (who pay me for ideas and decisiveness) and other people (who would rather I put a lid on it), however, I always have thoughts and direction.
My first idea was a nice ring, but I decided that wasn’t really a pressing need.
My second idea was for my parents to contribute to a sectional sofa for my new apartment. And then I had this hypothetical conversation in my head:
Normal Person: “What did your parents get you for graduation?”
Me: “Oh, you know, three-fifths of a sectional.”
Borrrrrr-ring.
My third idea, after doing some number crunching and integral calculus on my rent and utilities expenses this coming year, was to have them subsidize my rent for a year, perhaps enough to cover some of my utilities. Practical, no? YAWN.
(Two months go by.)
(Oh look-a-there, it is now spring and I graduated in December.)
After taking some pictures of my interior design work and for this blog, I realized I did not have an adequate camera for my purposes.
(Pause)
(What if I request a nice camera for my graduation gift?!?!? O.M.G. that’s brilliant!)
I amaze myself sometimes.
So, anywho, today I got a new camera and I thought I would celebrate by taking a picture. (But just one. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here.)
Here’s what happened next:
Now, mind you, for all of my picture-taking life, I have had a little point-and-shoot nugget for a camera.
Thus, armed with my camera prowess, I took out my new Canon dslr in order to take my celebratory photo. I unearthed it from seemingly endless layers of cords, pamphlets, warranties, instruction manuals, and other bubble-wrapped miscellanea about which I haven’t the faintest clue. I then unwrapped the lens, took off the lens cover thing and tried to put the lens on the camera. No dice.
(Apparently, the camera must be turned on in order to attach the lens.)
So then, naturally, I hit the “on” button. No dice.
I then casually pushed the latch/almost broke the camera trying to open the battery compartment to discover that there was, in fact, no battery in the camera. Hence, it would not turn on. Duh.
Slightly miffed, I dug through the sea of camera accoutrements and found the battery, stuck it in the battery compartment and triumphantly pushed the “on” button. No dice. (And then I scratched my head…….Hmmmmmmmm…….the battery must not be charged.) Duh. Why would the battery be charged? That would be too easy.
So then I dug around some more in my camera box and found the battery charger. Ahhh. Finally, something familiar, just like my point-and-shoot’s charger. I felt for the prongs to plug it into the wall outlet and……WHAT??….NO PRONGS?!? Then I noticed a devilish little indentation on the bottom of the charger that looked like it hooked up to some sort of cord. Steam then came out of my ears.
At my wits’ end, I returned to the camera box to search for a cord that had one end with a plug and another end shaped like the indentation on the bottom of the battery charger. To my utter delight (overstatement), I found it, crammed it into the bottom of the charger and plugged it in to the wall. (why me???)
And guess what? I now have to wait several hours for the dang thing to charge.
And guess what else? Just for kicks, I then went back to my desk and tried to put the lens on the camera again. I got a little craftier this time and decided not only to put the lens in the hole on the front of the camera, but also to turn it. And GUESS WHAT?!? The lens clicked into place and is now attached to the camera (?!?!??!?!).
But you know what? I still have to wait several hours for the battery to charge. What a buzzkill.
So not only did I get a nice camera today (for which I am very grateful despite my challenges), but I also learned that fancy cameras are like spoiled lap dogs. They’re high maintenance and have a lot of accessories that don’t seem to make sense.
And here’s the kicker: Even after the battery is charged and in the camera, and the camera is turned on, I still have to figure out how to use this sucker.
So at this rate, I may have that celebratory photo by next Christmas. (But, I’m not making any promises, ok?)
Man, what a day.
Y’all come back now, ya hear?
Sugarlump
The Sugarlump 