Conventional wisdom states that decorating the place where you sleep should involve picking soothing colors. There was nothing conventional about this house’s previous owners, though, and that’s how I ended up with a radioactive yellow bedroom. On top of this yellow, I got a weathered old window hung as if it were a framed painting — to showcase the brilliant color choice? — and a shelf made specifically to match it.

Well I’m still dealing with the yellow, but today the window got a facelift.

Ferns to match what (someday!) will be a pale gray-green color scheme. I was actually inspired by the duvet cover; those stripes are made of tiny little fronds.

Until I have time to finish the bedroom, though, I will continue to feel as if I’m sleeping on the surface of the sun. Hand me a pair of tanning goggles and remind me to turn over every half hour, will ya?

Ikea Hack(saw)

It’s been a busy week. Worked my real job Monday-Saturday, worked my part-time job on Sunday, and stole a few hours Sunday afternoon to work on this bookshelf project. I have a funky 23″ wide alcove in my home office that came with a metal bracket storage system from the Home Depot… you know, this crap:

Except my variation included plywood shelves wrapped in adhesive paper. With a daisy motif. They had to go.

23″ turns out to be a really weird size to work with, so after hours of googling around for the perfect piece of furniture I gave up and hacked a couple of IKEA shelves apart — literally. REXBO shelves must be the only IKEA item that comes almost fully built. I had to saw a set of them apart to join them up with a second set. But hacking out that fourth rail saved me exactly the inch and a half I needed.

REXBO before:

Double REXBO:

It’s a little stuffed right now ’cause it’s the only bookcase I have use of at the moment, and I got a little carried away when I started cracking open my old boxes of educational goodies. When the living room is finished, I hope to move the collection of art books (and there are many more!) downstairs.

But this is a start! I’m wondering if I should paint the inside of the alcove a fun color, just to spruce the room up a bit. I did snag a cute little rug (for $7.99!) on my IKEA trip; it’s tough to see from this tiny picture, but it’s white with random colors woven in every third layer or so. I like how it plays on the different colors of the book spines.


It’s time to stop fooling myself; someone wandered off with my digital camera as I moved out of my apartment this summer. My money’s on the Lowe’s delivery guys… sigh. Anyone looking to buy me an early Christmas present? Or, anyone have a recommendation for a relativity inexpensive model that’s good for keeping in a purse?

Anyway, I’m still plodding along on the house, but my documentation is a bit spotty. Here are some camera phone shots of tonight’s progress. Half of the living room ceiling is caulked and painted, now!

The time: Saturday, October 19th, 6:00 pm.

The scene: Johnny Brenda’s, Philly.

The event: I’m catching a beer with John. We’re watching the bartender sell tickets for the night’s musical event — a band with a lineup that boasts “members of Interpol.” Interpol was my favorite band through most of college, so this is a pleasant surprise. I must have seen them play three times by now. I had an Interpol ringtone for a while!

“Are they here? Which members…? I bet it’s Sam, I think he’s from Philly.” I’m scanning the crowd. And, sure enough, I spot him. Not only that, but Sam pulls up a seat next to John! My eyes go wide. John laughs, and then he gets up and goes to the bathroom.

Sam looks over. “Hey,” he says.

“Uhh, hey. You’re Sam, right?”

“I’m Sam!”

And we have a little conversation about his side project, his last Philly show, and his mother. Then his drink comes, John gets back, and we leave.

—-

The enormous party on my street that attracted four squad cars and a police wagon at 2:00 am last Saturday… well, that lost Philly a couple of points in my eyes. But the city won me back this week when I found myself face to face, completely by accident, with a guy who helped create the soundtrack to my college career. It’s a trade off, but I think it’s a good one.

I’m feeling a little disheartened at the moment. Instead of focusing solely on the things I worry I’ve forgotten how to do — like sculpt, or scrape together a few bucks and a few friends for fun & frivolous stuff — I’m going to try to think of what I’ve gained in the last year.


If I’m something of a shut-in, I’m a shut-in who can make a decent slow-cooked chicken corn chowder. Most of my possession are still in boxes, I admit, but they’re cluttering the living room of a house that I can call my own. And my tiny cement back yard gets just enough direct light a day to grow me a mini vegetable garden.

I’m broke, but I can tell you what a credit default swap is. I’ve learned how to hardwire a lighting fixture. Hey — I get to travel all over the country, and all I have to do is work 13 hour days once I’m off the plane!

There are moments, like this one, when it’s depressing to think of how I’ve wandered off the path that a lot of my friends managed to stay on after college; I haven’t made a single piece of art in months (unless any of the crazy craft projects meant to improve the house count). And I miss having that topic of conversation available to me. I haven’t figured out how to define myself outside of it, maybe, and I end up at a loss for words.

But I guess if I feel lonely — or plain old weird — now, I’m betting there will be a bigger plus side to this experience down the road than my new corn chowder recipe. I can’t seem to articulate what that might be for this closing sentence, but for now, that’s fine.

Home improvements

Wow, thanks for the comments on the last few posts, guys! Blogger is supposed to e-mail me when I get one, but I guess it hasn’t been… so I just noticed them yesterday. Now I feel all warm and fuzzy. :)

Anyway, I’m sorry that my blog has become the house’s blog. I wish I had something more cerebral to write about, but my brain can only think in paint chips right now. This might change when I get the living room finished… but that’s a monster of a project and I’m not anticipating its completion until (possibly) winter. I can share pictures of what I’ve finished so far, though!


Dining room, BEFORE:

Dining Room, DURING:

Dining Room, AFTER:

Kitchen, BEFORE:

Kitchen, DURING:

Kitchen, AFTER:




A tree grows in Port Richmond

Well, my tweet didn’t get any feedback, but I forged ahead with my idea, anyway. Here it is!

This was an unpainted wooden broom closet built by the guy who owned my house before me. I think he meant it to match the kitchen cabinets (the door with the trim down the middle is the same style), but the wood was a different color and it bugged me. So I tried to pretty it up a bit with a two-toned painting of an aspen tree, and I think I like the results! In fact, I might paint my whole house like this. Art hasn’t been this fun since… uh, I went to art school and started to hate it.

Sorry for the blogging silence. I don’t technically have an internet connection of my own (or cable, or a phone line — sorry Comcast!) . At home, I’m surfing on the free Wireless Philadelphia network, which connects me to my beloved interwebs at the blistering speed of 24Mbps. Actually, it’s only 24 when I sit up. If I lie down on the bed to write, it plummets to 2Mbps. Whatever — as long as it loads the Benjamin Moore color selector application, I’m golden.

Speaking of which, I’ve been messing around on the Benjamin Moore site for days as I try to come up with a color combination for my dining room. It’s a tough thing to do; the room has a chair rail, so I can pick two different wall colors, but it also had very bright orangey-blond cabinetry, a blue slate floor, and an awkward green countertop. Fitting all of that into one harmonious color family is, uh… challenging.

Luckily, Benjamin Moore has so many pre-loaded color combinations on their website to help me decide! Here’s a great one:

Thanks, painting experts! I’ve always wondered how I could make Halloween last all year.