• November 2010 Archive •

My Design Sponge Stinks

I’m not a horrible interior designer but I’m certainly not the best. I spend far too much time looking at room designs and websites like Design Sponge wishing I could close my eyes and somehow magically turn them into reality inside my own home. For someone who believes everything has a place, having a room incomplete is torture. We’ve lived in our house for more than two years and we still have rooms that are lacking. Take for instance our kitchen bar that lacks those four legged furniture pieces that allow you to actually sit and eat at the bar. I know furnishing an entire home takes time and money and I try to remain patient. I just really desire some specific instructions and direction on how to pull everything together since many of my grand design schemes have failed miserably.

Chase has told me for years that I’m an impulsive buyer. Write this one down in the history books – he’s right. When we first moved into our house I found a desk from Ikea that I just had to have. We eventually found the exact desk on Craigslist, only in a different color. Not only did I make Chase buy it, but I made him hand paint it red. Many hours and a few Goo Gone washes later, I had the desk I had begged for sitting pretty inside our office. At the time it was perfect. But after we upgraded from a 1990’s desktop computer to a new Mac laptop, the desk no longer served the same purpose. The huge red ornament in the office became an eyesore to me and frustrated me every time I looked at it. I immediately wanted to get rid of it. As the desk’s fate would have it, we sold it on Craigslist to a happy woman who wanted to use it for her 4 year old son. The fact that the desk would be used by a child only supported my theory that it didn’t belong in a hip, modern-wannabe office. My brilliant ahead-of-the-curve office design still hasn’t transpired and it currently rests in bits and pieces of ideas gone array.

Our guest bedroom is floating along in the same boat as our office. They’re just floundering around in an open sea full of color combinations and bookmarked do-it-yourself ideas. They’re destined to sink. All of my design ideas have sounded so convincing in my own mind but not so much once I’ve put them into action. Chase tries so hard to support me and even at times offers ideas much better than anything I’ve come up with. Unfortunately he isn’t consistent and periodically tries to convince me that a Kurt Cobain picture or Texas flag would look really nice hanging on our walls. I’m a super star when it comes to designing tablescapes, centerpieces and wedding receptions. I’m a burned out star when it comes to designing my personal space. I need help.

Through the wonderful world of Facebook and mutual friends, I discovered that Studio 13 is having a contest in which one lucky follower will win a date with a professional designer. Since the contest is random and I’ve never been the luckiest at winning prizes by chance, I’m passing this information along to you so you can join in on the fun. Want an example of what an unlucky winner I am? It was “Project Graduation” and I was flying high because I had just graduated high school. Fellow graduates were winning all kinds of amazing prizes like computers, cold hard cash, trips and even a car. What did I win? A deer spotlight.

If you want to be cool like me and enter the contest, simply visit Studio 13’s blog and follow the instructions. The contest is so simple that even my dog Scottie could complete it if he would just join the movement and get a Facebook account. I might suggest that to him over dinner tonight since we reside in the same house and the win would benefit us both.

xoxo, Priscilla
DJ Plays More Than Music

For some reason I could completely see my husband doing this if he was a DJ.  Thankfully he isn’t one and actually tries to refrain from publicly slapping the goods.  This DJ takes playing the bongos to a whole new level.  Enjoy!

 

Special thanks to DIY Bride for bringing this hilarious video to my attention.

xoxo, Priscilla
Go Shorty – It’s your Birthday!

My last name use to be Short before I retired it. When 50 cent dropped the track “In Da Club,” it instantly became my birthday anthem. I just knew it was me that he was encouraging to “sip Barcardi and party like it’s your birthday.” Tomorrow I turn twenty six. That’s a 2 and a 6 sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g. Twenty-six is awfully close to thirty which is an awful reminder that I’m not Benjamin Button and I’m not getting younger. What’s up with this whole growing up thing anyway? If it were up to me, I’d go to sleep tonight and wake up tomorrow lying inside a Hello Kitty sleeping bag, laughing with my best friend while we swing our side ponytails.

I’ve always been incredibly self-absorbed the weeks leading up to November 5th. I could potentially blame my parents for making me feel so dang special on my birthday growing up that even as an adult, I feel as though my birthday should be honored as a National Holiday. I’m fortunate to have parents and friends who still play along in my birthday game.

Chase requested I make a birthday wish list, complete with sizes, pictures and specifics. A birthday list? That’s right up my alley. I’ve been emailing birthday wish lists to my friends and family for years. I cracked my knuckles, sat down with a clean word document opened and prepared for an intensive Internet investigation to gather and document the items I couldn’t possibly live without. Unlike the years before, I struggled to find things that I felt absolutely necessary to add to the list. I double checked the websites for my favorite stores to make sure I didn’t miss something the first time around. I began to sweat and shake my leg nervously as I realized the unthinkable was happening right before my eyes. I was growing up.

I’ve thought long and hard the last few weeks about my birthday and what I really want. I’ve realized where once I wanted things, I now want feelings. I’ve worked a wedding every Saturday and some Sundays since August. I’ve forgotten what it feels like to spend a weekend with my husband without working. So even though I may have sent Chase a silly list with forgettable items listed (Minus the iPad. Unrealistic? Yes. Silly? No. A girl can dream Apple dreams.), all I really want is to feel every minute of the weekend. I want to feel surrounded by the people I love as we sit and laugh. I want to feel my mom’s embrace. I want to feel Scottie snuggled up next to me as we watch TV. I want to feel a glass of Riesling in my hands. I want to feel my husband’s sweet kiss. I want to feel life, slowed down and relaxed. Nowhere to go. Nothing to do. Just feel.

Regardless of whether I’m ready or not, tomorrow will come and I’ll be a little bit wiser than last year at this time. Even though this growing up thing isn’t always what it’s cracked up to be, you’re only as old as you feel. I think tomorrow I’ll feel 18, just with 8 years of experience.

xoxo, Priscilla