Tuesday, April 16, 2013
Spring has been cancelled.
This freakishly long winter combined with the solar flares is making me feel like there's a little man living in a little room in my little brain and he has been SET ON FIRE! FIRE! FIRE! AAAARRRRGGGHHHHH! And no, I do not feel better now.
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
PINTEREST IS DIY CRACK
If you have any crafting tendencies, consider yourself warned!
My obsession is nearing a fever pitch. I have been completely unable to resist the call of this website and I find myself browsing through it multiple times a day. And once I start I can't stop! Just ONE MORE PIC. My bleary eyes are dry and bloodshot. My pulse is sluggish. Yet the neurons in my brain are on fire! I look at these pictures and suddenly I just KNOW how to do the thing that's depicted. My mind is swelling to capacity with ideas for decorating and organizing! I'm plotting and scheming how to score free materials: I need a used truck tire, an old dresser, a hunk of driftwood, fancy shower curtain hooks, towel bars, window boxes, a heat gun, ten pounds of crayons, an old ladder, decorative drawer pulls, a window shutter, PVC pipe, fruit crates, a panel door, and pallets - LOTS OF PALLETS!!!!!
The most shameful part of it all is that I have been unable to channel any of this energy into actually completing a project. I am living vicariously through strangers who make cool shit while my shit sits around in dull, disorganized piles. Staring at me. Accusing me. Blaming me. "We look like this because of YOU." "You'll never have nice things." "Look at the mess you've made of your life. And the dishes." "That's right, bring home MORE STUFF. We dare you. What's that you say? There's nowhere to put it? That's what we thought."
Pleeeeeeaaaaase, God, let me find a truck tire and I SWEAR I will make it into the most fantastic ottoman you have ever seen! If I only had those gorgeous door pulls and a piece of romantically distressed wood I would almost certainly hang up all the necklaces I never wear! I'm on the verge of making a deal with the devil named Discover Card even though I know I will regret it immediately and for the rest of the month.
Admitting I need help would be the first step to recovery if I thought this was becoming a problem, but I have it under control. Seriously, I'm fine. It's not like I'm going to become that smelly nest-headed lady over there with all the plastic Michael's Crafts bags... OMG that's a mirror...
My obsession is nearing a fever pitch. I have been completely unable to resist the call of this website and I find myself browsing through it multiple times a day. And once I start I can't stop! Just ONE MORE PIC. My bleary eyes are dry and bloodshot. My pulse is sluggish. Yet the neurons in my brain are on fire! I look at these pictures and suddenly I just KNOW how to do the thing that's depicted. My mind is swelling to capacity with ideas for decorating and organizing! I'm plotting and scheming how to score free materials: I need a used truck tire, an old dresser, a hunk of driftwood, fancy shower curtain hooks, towel bars, window boxes, a heat gun, ten pounds of crayons, an old ladder, decorative drawer pulls, a window shutter, PVC pipe, fruit crates, a panel door, and pallets - LOTS OF PALLETS!!!!!
The most shameful part of it all is that I have been unable to channel any of this energy into actually completing a project. I am living vicariously through strangers who make cool shit while my shit sits around in dull, disorganized piles. Staring at me. Accusing me. Blaming me. "We look like this because of YOU." "You'll never have nice things." "Look at the mess you've made of your life. And the dishes." "That's right, bring home MORE STUFF. We dare you. What's that you say? There's nowhere to put it? That's what we thought."
Pleeeeeeaaaaase, God, let me find a truck tire and I SWEAR I will make it into the most fantastic ottoman you have ever seen! If I only had those gorgeous door pulls and a piece of romantically distressed wood I would almost certainly hang up all the necklaces I never wear! I'm on the verge of making a deal with the devil named Discover Card even though I know I will regret it immediately and for the rest of the month.
Admitting I need help would be the first step to recovery if I thought this was becoming a problem, but I have it under control. Seriously, I'm fine. It's not like I'm going to become that smelly nest-headed lady over there with all the plastic Michael's Crafts bags... OMG that's a mirror...
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