Another bed video & random thoughts.

I wanted to include this video in last week’s post, but I needed to switch video-hosts (my free trial had expired and the service was too expensive,) and I waited until the last minute, and then ran into tech difficulties… No surprise.

Anyway. After I posted the first bed-video, the dominant response was:
A – your husband is a saint.
B – how sweet that he secured you to the roof.

And I would like to say:
A – oh really?
B – before you canonize him, you need to see the unedited clip.

Now.  About the final result– some of you felt the end result was fantastic, but some of you thought I should take further steps to truly make the bed fit the mattress.

However, my only requirement for this bed was owning the fanciness. Once it was mine, all goals had been achieved. In fact, so great was my satisfaction with the end result, that I was actually surprised anyone expected something more elaborate.

Obviously it is fine if you would do it differently… I do not know how to explain the formula in my head for determining between too-broken and perfect-item-as-is; when I love something, really, really, really love it– I don’t need it to be any different than it is.

Paul would tell you this is why we have a house full of half-assed, half-broken stuff no one is supposed to touch… And I would tell you I am fine with half-assed, half-broken, as long as it is also giant and fancy.

The giant fancies do not even need to serve any purpose, so the fact that this bed actually does is a step in the right direction.
Example:

No part of me is bothered that the bed hangs over a few inches. The bed could hang off another 3 feet, and I would be totally fine with it. I would’ve still driven six hours for it. And I still would’ve paid what I paid for it. Even if it fit the mattress perfectly, I would not love it any more.

I think generally I am overly-detailed in a way that blinds me to the big picture. This house has illustrated to me over, and over, and over that whatever minuscule detail I am spending ridiculous amounts of time focusing on will not matter at all a year from now.

No doubt, I am really happy with my final tile-choice… but I wonder retrospectively if the time/stress/thought devoted was evidence of superior taste in flooring or a sign of mental illness.

The only thing that breaks my rigid adherence to whatever imaginary perfection that lives in my head is when I REALLY LOVE SOMETHING. Then, all decisions are made for me. Compromise is not an issue. I can barrel forward with the blind certainty that space, time, and structural issues will all fall into line from the sheer force of my faith.

Now, random thoughts:
1. Speaking of mental illness – when I was getting ready to take some photos of the bed, I decided I should iron the sheet. I got the ironing board up from the basement, found the iron and a spray bottle. Then, once I started ironing and getting irritated about why ironing boards are so small and why are sheets so large? I realized that is the wrong question. The RIGHT question is – WHY? AM? I? IRONING? A? SHEET?

2. A friend of mine is giving away a ticket to Design Camp in Las Vegas. Apparently this is for people who are really serious about interior-design. (If I win, they may not even let me in.)   If you live in the area, or fancy a reason to plan a trip to Vegas… Maybe you would be interested. PS –She also has gorgeous taste in kitchen counters. For those of you who are obsessed with marble-alternatives, you’ll like her Super White Quartzite. (Her kitchen is not too shabby either.)

3.  SPOILER ALERT: in case you were wondering how Mad Men is going to end?

4. IMPORTANT NOTICE: this blog is now a Mad-Men-free-zone. I do not watch until all the episodes have aired and I can snort view them all in one go.   If you are confused about who that very real and alive person in bed with me is… Here is some form of explanation about Don Draper (as much as the above can be explained at all).

5. Every week in the comments, you make me laugh so hard… But once in a while, you make me mad by inadvertently showing me how something I wrote could have been 57,000 times better.
Example:
Laurel reminded me about the to-be-shredded folder’s counterpart: the folder to-be-stored-permanently-in-a-temperature-and-humidity-controlled vault: a place where all misdeeds are recorded and cataloged for all time.

Paul likes to go in there sometimes, just to take inventory.