Design Flaws

When I was three, my parents bought the home that I would grow up in. It was a pretty nice house, bigger than the home we moved out of... and it had a pool. My Dad and his wife Delia still live in that house today. 

The entire thirteen years that my parents lived in that house, every wall was white. For a long time, it never occurred to me that I could paint the walls. When I got old enough, I remember asking once or twice to paint a wall or the room and the answer was always no. 

I vaguely remember my sister, Alison painting her room when I moved into Kari's room, and she got the privacy that she begged my parents for. I could be making that up. I definitely remember my mom working tirelessly to scrap the ugly wallpaper off the bathroom walls and painting that a lovely shade of.... (surprise!) white.

Years later, when Delia (because it was her idea, no doubt) painted the walls in that house, I was floored. It was so WEIRD. The house had always been white, and now there was a sage green color in the dining room, and a pretty tan color in the den. 

After my Mom and I moved out, we lived in an apartment which obviously we couldn't paint. Then, we moved back into the first house my Mom and Dad had purchased, and we didn't paint any color in there either. When I moved out, I lived in rentals that always had a no paint policy. 

Like how I get right down to the point?

I became OBSESSED with painting. When Denise and I were looking for an apartment in Fresno, she found one that let you paint one living room wall in one of their approved colors. HOT DOG! But when she went to visit, she explained that the freeway was right behind the building and it was loud. Alas, painted walls were not to be. 

When I moved in with my friend, Cisco, who owned the house, he said I could paint my room whatever I wanted. So I painted vertical stripes on one wall, which I now know is called a "focus" wall. How fancy. At that time, I was arrogant. How HARD can stripes really be? Honestly. I didn't know that there were tips and tricks and entire blogs dedicated to painting stripes. It turned out well enough, but no where near what it could have been had I researched. 

Bryan and I now own a home. We can change pretty much anything we want if we have the time, inclination, funds and know-how. 

And wouldn't you know that while I have myriad ideas but no actual inspiration to DO any of them? 

It doesn't help that my super supportive and inspiring husband likes to shut down every vision or idea that I have. 

I haven't had a whole lot of motivation to paint or unpack and decorate because 1. every time I talk about what I want to do Bryan looks at me like I have sprouted ten heads and am speaking in Russian and 2. because I look at these blogs of real people (read: women) just like myself that have beautiful homes and I want that NOW. I'd like to skip the whole awkward, figuring things out stage and just have a beautiful zone that does not have German shepherd hair and drool all over it. 

I want to wish away the blue tile and gray grout in the kitchen, and the cream and green tile in the master bathroom, along with weird ivy-laden light fixture. And don't even get me started on the black toilet that freaks all of our guests out in the front bathroom. (Note: If you are ever in Lowes or Home Depot, and you think to yourself, OH. We could put a chic, black toilet in the only guest bathroom in our house. LET ME TELL YOU, this is a bad idea. It freaks people out. I have lived in the house since September, have owned it since May 2010 and do you think that I have EVER peed in that bathroom? Creepy.)

So, not only am I in the hugest hair-do funk of my LIFE, but I also am in a decorating funk. 

Awesome.