I have always been a sentimental person, easily attached to special things. Or beautiful things. Or interesting things. You should have seen my room while growing up. It was usually very messy lived-in.
Almost every square inch of my walls were covered with some piece of decorative art–anything from wrapping paper that I liked a lot to posters to cards that special people gave me. One of the hardest parts of moving out of my parents’ house because I was marrying a dreamy guy named Drew was taking down all of those pieces of my history. Every card that divulged a friendship. Every pictured ballerina that made me aspire to go to dance class and sit in splits while I watched tv.
I remember just tearing up, removing every scrap of thoughtful sentiment that adorned my room. In a way, it was very metaphoric. I was making the walls of my childhood bare; making room for something else to cover them, something more boring mature.
It took my parents approximately 3 and a half minutes to call in the cavalry known as Jacob to repaint the walls and make the room look like it belonged in a Pottery Barn catalogue.
And it no longer belonged to me.
Anyway. While packing up my childhood room, I knew I would not ever live in a room that looked like that again; that had a frog in every corner (not living, though–ew, and not dead, either! just, you know, decorative), a million and a half dresses piling up in the closet, and enough dancers on the walls to make you wonder if you accidentally stepped foot in a ballet studio.
I knew that I would be sharing living space with Drew, who is, among other things, male.
He has made it very clear that our bedding cannot have flowery things, I think is how he put it, and if we are debating on a color, he immediately comes up with the idea of green, brown, or blue. Or a combination of all three. His idea of nice furniture is sometimes, I am sad to say, a hideous creation known as a gaming chair and yes, it looks just as ugly as it sounds. We did compromise on that one, though, and he carried it up to his room, a place that I never really go anyway.
His room now has two of the ugliest chairs I have ever seen in it. And I am glad that he enjoys them.
Despite all that, he does have good taste, and we agree on most things. When we can’t agree, we compromise. When we can’t compromise, we just don’t do whatever it is we cannot decide upon. All that to say there are some very lovely things in my house that we both love together.
Take this entertainment center, for instance. I cannot remember who saw it first, but we both loved it instantly.
And this special chest that my parents’ gave to me before our wedding. It is an antique dating back to the 1800′s and is a real piece of luggage that people used to travel with. You can tell by the arched top that it belonged to a wealthier person–they would make sure the lids of their chests were curved to ensure that nothing could be stacked on top of it, thereby keeping it on top of the pile and easily accessible.
And my piano. Another amazing gift from my parents. I love, love, love it.
And this is one of my favorite spots in our house. The dining room table is a hand-me-down from Jason and Darby. I also love the contrast of the yellow walls with the green picture.
And our kitchen…Drew designed the layout and it’s so homey and us, somehow.
Another special spot. The fabric picture, the drapes, and the contrast of the greens against the tan make me glad.
But I guess, no matter how great a couple is for each other, they are bound to disagree. You can imagine my chagrin when I got home tonight and found that heinous can-opener with a handle made out of kangaroo testicles back in its place of honor. The same place from which I had taken it down when I got home last week. And once again it is hanging right next to the beautifully crafted measuring spoons that were a gift from Darby, as well as the Williams and Sonoma pot holders that were a gift from Drew.
Uffda.
Is it just me–or does one of these things not belong here? And would anyone mind agreeing with me on this one? I think that can opener would look great right next to the ugly chairs in Drew’s special room…
I guess Drew and I still need to figure out what the compromise is for this one.
Posted by jessica on Dec 8, 2008 |
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And this special chest that my parents’ gave to me before our wedding. It is an antique dating back to the 1800′s and is a real piece of luggage that people used to travel with. You can tell by the arched top that it belonged to a wealthier person–they would make sure the lids of their chests were curved to ensure that nothing could be stacked on top of it, thereby keeping it on top of the pile and easily accessible. 
And my piano. Another amazing gift from my parents. I love, love, love it.
And this is one of my favorite spots in our house. The dining room table is a hand-me-down from Jason and Darby. I also love the contrast of the yellow walls with the green picture.
And our kitchen…Drew designed the layout and it’s so homey and us, somehow.
Another special spot. The fabric picture, the drapes, and the contrast of the greens against the tan make me glad.
But I guess, no matter how great a couple is for each other, they are bound to disagree. You can imagine my chagrin when I got home tonight and found that heinous can-opener with a handle made out of kangaroo testicles back in its place of honor. The same place from which I had taken it down when I got home last week. And once again it is hanging right next to the beautifully crafted measuring spoons that were a gift from Darby, as well as the Williams and Sonoma pot holders that were a gift from Drew. 
Uffda. 
