I think I should tell you, that I consider my boudoir done. Medium, medium-well.
And, you know, it only took me a month. But you know me; I like to take on multiple projects, allllllatonce. It's part of my mental situation. Perhaps you remember the before before?
And, of course, you know I built me a window seat and flanked it with built-ins:
Some more pillows for my kids to throw to the floor, and a handle to open the storage in the center and reveal my severed heads, and I'm gonna call this space done.
Honestly, we have more bookcases in this house now then we have books.
This is the "hers" side, with some of my faves. "A Connecticut Yankee", and Mark Twain = sheer genius. Am I right?
And then of course there's the "his" side. With like,
"Art And History of Rome". And some other crap. Some white paint, a little caulking, and they look much more seamless and "built-in". 'Cause you know, that was the intention.
And my sign I made last year?
This one? Inspired by the best song by the best band? EV-AR? I had to put it back up. It might be an awkward spot, but I love it there. So take that decorating police!
And of course you remember the staining and shellacking of my bed, from this:
And I really wanna tell you that the white has stayed just perfect. 'Cept that would make my pants on fire, and hanging from a telephone wire, as I just noticed two little cheeto finger prints this morning.
But quite possibly the largest of changes was this disaster/catastrophe.
I have no shame.
Quite possibly that vacuum's in the same spot. It's very probable.
But my own little space:
I still love not getting ready in my nast-asty bathroom.
And behold my late 80's, Julia Roberts hair!
That's what a vanity table can get ya. 80's hair.
moving those computers out of my room has significantly cut down on traffic in here. I can move, I can breathe; the muted colors makes it feel much more crisp, clean, and captivating.
Those are the 3 C's I needed.
While I am aware that blogland has plenty of people taking down the fan for a chandelier, it's just not gonna happen. Helps us survive the summer nights.
we now actually like our bedroom.
And so do our butt munches. Much to our dismay.