Obssession

Ian and I are working on something that will serve as a gargantuan blog post someday: we're redecorating the house. The entire house. All of it.

We're a little bit poor, so we're subscribing to the school of thought that the best way to renovate a house is to slap paint on it. Varnished wood paneling? Crumbling bricks? Horrible floors? Put paint on it! Paint is the key to everything!

Why do rich people waste their money on things like stone and tile and hardwood? Folks, there's this thing called paint, and it only costs 20 bucks a can, and HAVE YOU SEEN WHAT IT CAN DO TO A ROOM? WOW.

Frankly, paint is to my adulthood what scotch tape was to my childhood.

I'm documenting the redecorating as we go, and I can't wait to post about it. In the meantime, I'm left with very little writing material. Because I'm currently obsessed with home decorating.

Obsessed. Obsessed. Obsessed. 

Ian and I have spent all of our free time working on the house. When we we're not working on the house, I'm googling design ideas.

When I'm at work, I visualize the house, thinking of decorating ideas, until I'm amped up on designer endorphins and can't wait to go home so I can run up the driveway screaming, "The shutters, Ian! The shutters!"

When I was a child, my parents insisted on painting everything tan. Likewise, Ian grew up with a lot of white and cream. My rule for the house: absolutely NO tan. Ian's rule for the house: absolutely NO cream.

We're going as bold and colorful as possible with the decorating.  

Because we can. 

I AM WOMAN; HEAR ME ROAR.

Update:

Ian and I are currently living in a wood paneling nightmare. I mean, have you ever tried painting over wood paneling? We started painting the wood paneling in the kitchen and den on Friday.

It's Tuesday, and the kitchen is still in shambles, the refrigerator and microwave are still in the bedroom, and the washing machine is still unplugged. I JUST WANT TO CLEAN MY CLOTHES AND NUKE A DINNER, YOU KNOW?

The wood paneling requires an ungodly amount of paint, and it takes an ungodly amount of time to apply. Yesterday I caught Ian staring at the walls in resigned defeat, so I clutched his hand and whispered, "Courage, brother."

Just in the nick of time, Ian discovered chigger bites all over his body.

Then he discovered poison ivy all over his arms.

Then he came down with sore throat, incessant sneezing, and extreme misery.

MY, WHAT PERFECT TIMING!

Then I realized Winnie had stepped in paint and had globs of yellow all over her feet, legs, and tummy.

I tend to laugh hysterically when everything starts to fall apart, so I spent the majority of last night giggling furiously.

Last Night:

Ian: "Sneeze! Sneeze! Sneeze! Sneeze! Sneeze! Sneeze! Sneeze! Sneeze!"

Laura: "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Winnie: <Looks yellow>

House: <Looks destroyed>

The house is in shambles, Ian feels like dying, and my brain is cracked out on home decorating.

Due to our insistence on bold and colorful, we may very well turn the house into a Candy Land nightmare. Stay tuned, y'all!