Nesting: surgical side effect
There is something about being home all the time during the cold light of day that forces me to notice all the unfinished home improvement projects around this apartment. We have lived here happily for two and a half years, but after staring at these walls day in and day out for many weeks, all of a sudden I can not tolerate our undecorated bedroom. Not for one more MINUTE.
Why it's not a good idea to decorate while you are r
ecovering from brain surgery: installing sconces is unbearably noisy when the walls in your bedroom are concrete. The demolition for these innocently unassuming swing arm lamps took a full day. Wires had to be run over the closet and down the next wall. Mmmm. Jackhammers. Soothing.
Another brain surgery decorating challenge: when you've got nothing but time on your hands, it's really hard to make decisions. Should the trim be decorator's white or super white? Took almost half an hour of staring at two nearly identical paint chips to decide.
When it comes to these tough decisions regarding the interior design of our living space, poor Terence, like most normal guys, could not care less. Yet I insist that he take part. If I sense he's just humoring me, I get really indignant: "You live here, too! You need to participate. I can't do this all myself." Terence knows the truth. I want to do it all myself, and then I want him to agree with my decisions without letting on that he's not heard a word I've said and is actually watching the Mets game. Assurance is very comforting, but not if it's not heartfelt. Like any good account guy, he's learned how to fake sincerity.
In choosing the color for the walls, I spread out about 107 (no lie) different paint chips for Terry - just what he was hoping to come home to at the end of a long day. He looked at me with a puzzled and weary expression and said, "Aren't these all the same color?" I am horrified. "No, Terence! This is a wide spectrum all the way from 'bland' to 'obnoxious.' We have to find exactly the one that is sophisticated without being boring. I don't think you grasp the gravity of this decision. We will have to wake up to this color every day." He realizes his mistake and says, "Oh,you are so right. Let me take a closer look," as he switches the TV behind me to the game.
After a lengthy elimination process, (Terry and) I selected two shades to paint in a patch on the wall for the final decision. When the sample size of my favorite color came home from the hardware store, I was confronted with a mortifying "stamp of approval" right there on the top of the jar. Of the millions of colors I could have selected, I chose the exact blue from the "Pottery Barn Summer of 2007" collection. You've probably noticed, this is their new thing. They specify the Benjamin Moore colors featured in their catalogs. Smart. But if I go with this color it means I will have a bedroom that is the exact same color as everyone in America who redid their house this summer. Whether this caused prejudice or not, it's impossible to say, but when I saw the color on the wall I did not like it. Pedestrian taste crisis narrowly avoided.
During this particular project, Terry did express genuine interest once. I was thinking of white wood blinds behind drapery panels for the window treatment. Terry asks a practical question, "Is white going to block the light out as well as a darker color would? The sun rises on that side of the building." Logically, I think out loud that wood is an opaque material so it shouldn't matter what color it is. On the other hand, some light will inevitably seep around the edges of the blinds. Wouldn't a dark color absorb more of that overflow? After a few minutes of arguing both sides of this debate myself, I ask Terry to weigh in now that I've laid out the myriad points to consider. He looks at me and says, "I would rather sleep with sun in my eyes for the rest of my life and pay double for the blinds themselves than discuss this for one more minute. I am so sorry I brought it up. Let's go with white." Long pause..."Ok. But are you saying you want white because you want white or because you think I want white and you want me to think you want white? Terence, are you listening to me? Can you turn off the Mets game?"
5 comments:
Just happened to find your blog. This post was quite inspired. :)
Joan,
First of all, that was one of the funniest things I have read in a long time! Forget the ad biz, and become a columnist!
Second, I had Iris read it as well, and it made her feel alot better that we just put up shades in our bedroom after 2 plus years!
We had to hire a handyman to do it (since I am anything but). He also put up the shelving system that we bought about a year and half ago. And we are finally painting our second bathroom, although not using the color that Iris (and I) had selected (and which paint chips have been taped to the bathroom wall for the last 2 years).
Third, who is the mysterious "A Designer's Eye"??
Thanks, Designer's Eye! This is what goes on in our apartment all the time. My poor husband. He's not even looking forward to our kitchen re-do - and he's the cook. I like your blog - I'll have to refer to it for inspiration.
(Eric - mystery solved: www.adesignerseye.blogspot.com)
Eric - don't feel bad.
1. We bought the ceiling fan we just had put up in our bedroom LAST summer.
2. We, too, painted the bedroom walls a color that was not among any of the original samples.
3. The blinds in our apartment don't even stay up when you pull the cord. (And did you know Home Depot charges $25/window just to remove the old blinds? Holy cow! Word to the wise: if you offer the guy who comes to do the measurement the cash directly, you get a "discount")
4. We just had a medicine cabinet hung in our downstairs bathroom that was in the hall closet for at least six months. We didn't even take it out of the box, and now that it's on the wall (and caulked in place, mind you), I HATE it. But it's already becoming part of our invisible landscape, so I suppose it will never get taken down. It's not even the right size.
This is why we are not house people. I would be paralyzed (unless I win the lottery and could pay a designer to do everything for me).
Glad that you like our blog! Visit often!
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