dull nestbuilding post
After a surreal half an hour or so where my new housemate and I were the only people in B&Q, I spent yesterday evening painting my room, with a soundtrack of Sergeant Pepper and Motown.
I’m going with the three plain walls, one red wall plan (thanks for the advice!), but I made an error: I picked a colour called ‘apricot’ because I thought it looked like a more interesting cream, when the point of the neutral colour is that it's not supposed to be interesting. Turns out it’s horrible. It wobbles about on the line between being neutral and being a colour. Finally it decides to try being a colour, fails hilariously, and its friends point and laugh at it. Oh dear. Time to paint over it with plain white. The red wall rocks, though.
This whole business is weirdly exciting. It’s so strange to me to be able to change my own living space that I was almost scared to make the first brush stroke, and hesitated with the brush held hairs’ breadths from the wall, and then had to go through with it because the brush would drip if I didn’t.
A couple of weeks ago, just before catching my flight to Ireland, I went to Herbal to see dr_f_dellamorte doing his DJ thing. He was fantastic and I got my groove on to his funky breaks till late into the night and then stayed over at ultraruby’s, and when we got up the next morning we sat in her lovely kitchen talking about house-painting and DIY and it occurred to me that I always thought you couldn't have both at once, the nestmaking and the getting your groove on, and that you had to sacrifice one for the other. And if that’s not true, then it’s a whole different world.
I’m going with the three plain walls, one red wall plan (thanks for the advice!), but I made an error: I picked a colour called ‘apricot’ because I thought it looked like a more interesting cream, when the point of the neutral colour is that it's not supposed to be interesting. Turns out it’s horrible. It wobbles about on the line between being neutral and being a colour. Finally it decides to try being a colour, fails hilariously, and its friends point and laugh at it. Oh dear. Time to paint over it with plain white. The red wall rocks, though.
This whole business is weirdly exciting. It’s so strange to me to be able to change my own living space that I was almost scared to make the first brush stroke, and hesitated with the brush held hairs’ breadths from the wall, and then had to go through with it because the brush would drip if I didn’t.
A couple of weeks ago, just before catching my flight to Ireland, I went to Herbal to see dr_f_dellamorte doing his DJ thing. He was fantastic and I got my groove on to his funky breaks till late into the night and then stayed over at ultraruby’s, and when we got up the next morning we sat in her lovely kitchen talking about house-painting and DIY and it occurred to me that I always thought you couldn't have both at once, the nestmaking and the getting your groove on, and that you had to sacrifice one for the other. And if that’s not true, then it’s a whole different world.