Sunday, July 31, 2011

I have organized our house to death (Part 2)

You'd be even more impressed if you knew how much of a pack rat my husband is. He wants to keep everything from the broken lotion bottle to the old router to his holey T-shirts.

I've made him throw out a lot of it. And he makes sure I never forget it.

But the results have been worth it.

Last week, my two glass shelves arrived. I have been waiting so patiently to put all the glasses from our wedding gifts on display.

Buying glass is complicated! I had to calculate the weight the glass would be holding, account for how much support the glass had from the shelving unit underneath it, and take wicked accurate measurements. But it is all behind me now.


Something I designed all by myself! So proud, so proud.

Yeah, guess who designed that centerpiece? It is three letters and rhymes with "Bomb"
Makes you want to have a drink doesn't it?

This part of our kitchen looks awesome. Let's look at the rest of it.

What is out of place in this picture?

Yes, that stove is lime green. Oh so lovely.
Wait, what is that green monstrosity? And now you know why I need that drink.

When I first moved in two years ago, my first order of business was getting rid of that stove. Not only does it barely cook our food, it makes others gasp in horror upon entering our house. But do you think in the 1970s they had any standard for stove sizes? No, that would be too simple.

Now the standard stove size is 20", 24", 30", or 36". Our stove is conveniently 27". Not helpful, green monstrosity. So either we cut into our lazy susan or we cut into our mini-cabinet on the right of the stove. Neither of these options are viable. So instead, the stove and I have forged an uneasy truce. On the one hand, I am sure the stove is just waiting for an opportune moment to slip raw chicken by me. On the other hand, I've seriously considering killing it with a baseball bat.

Enough of the horror, onto the living room:

Are you noticing a theme with the stuffed animals yet?
Yes, those walls are purple. And I love, love, love the color, but believe it or not, I didn't choose it. My husband did. 

My husband also has an obsession with David Blaine. Don't ask. I've had to work around it.
Before you see our bedroom pictures, ignore the curtains. My mom hasn't gotten to this room yet.

My husband is affronted by our pillows; he says they remind him of bath mats. But I love them. So they stay.
Yes, I color coordinate my closet. And yes, those are stuffed animals that I regularly play with.

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