Creating a Space

I can be kind of a wreck.

Okay, maybe wreck isn't the right word. Maybe I should say I can be kind of a hot mess. But recently I've made a huge effort to be more organized and, like, neat and stuff. So I overhauled my entire living space. I'm telling you... paint an accent wall apple green and suddenly you feel like you can deal with your life. Maybe that's just me... I don't know.

So I redid my space. I have a weird artist's quirk about personalizing things though. I always have to add my own little touches to things. My favorite thing is organized clutter. Feng-Shui is so not my thing. I have the innate desire to make things my own. Does anyone else do this? I honestly put a ton of effort into it. Here, I'll show you.

This is my desk. There's that little area near the edge that I've just graffiti'd the crap out of. Also please take note of my president placemat, my calculator with a dancing shark on it, my Jukebox the Ghost poster (signed!), and the J0-Bros calendar. I got those bookshelves at IKEA.

Now the personal touches. I put a picture of Geena Davis on the end of one of the shelves. What do you mean, why? Because she's AMAZING. Duh. The other has a picture of the Salt Lake Temple and a Wicked Witch of the West magnet. Like I said, weird personal touches.

This is my main bookshelf. Magazines and big books on the bottom shelf. Text books and references on the top shelf. Series on second to top. The rest is basically a free-for-all.

Zoom in on the top shelf and what do we find? Oh yes. A dinosaur scene. Again, what do you mean, why? Because dinosaurs are AWESOME. The next shelf down has lots of little ponies, and an eagle-shaped flask. Don't ask me to explain myself. It defies explanation.

So there you have it. Weird personal touches. The lamp by my bedside has a cutout of a male ballerina on it. My full length mirror has a bunch of Spiderman stickers on it. Nothing remains untouched.

I can only imagine what I'd do with a cubicle.

Pillows and Dreams

When I was a little girl, I asked my mom for a feather pillow. Not only did I want a soft downy pillow on which to sleep, I also wanted it to be encased in a luxurious satin pillowcase. I remember thinking to myself that this was a lofty expectation. At this point in my life I had a very specific plan. I was going to go to high school and ace every class, get a perfect score on the ACT & SAT's, work at a flower shop and be a cheerleader. Then I wanted to go to Harvard and be an actress, which for some reason didn't seem as lofty at the time as having a feather pillow with a satin pillowcase. It also seemed to make a lot of sense, which it obviously doesn't. Going to Harvard for Theatre makes about as much sense as going to AADA for Med School.

One day, I got home from school and there it was... my delightful new pillow. A goose feather down pillow covered in a shiny white satin pillowcase. I couldn't even wait to go to sleep that night... my dream had finally come true! I was on top of the world... I felt like now that I had gotten my pillow wish, any of my dreams could come true.

Fast-forward 12 years. I am sleeping on a flat, lumpy pillow stained yellow from someone's (presumably my dad's) oily head. I'm grudgingly continuing my education at the University of What the Hell Was I Thinking and my current plans? Marry rich and die young. Ok, while that would be nice (the marrying rich part), I'm actually planning on being a teacher. In which case I'll have to move to Connecticut because they pay their teachers WAY more than most states do. 10k more than Nebraska starting salary. So... not going to Harvard, not becoming an actress or the President, and sleeping on a lumpy old pillow with someone else's head stains.

I wonder if your pillow has anything to do with your dreams.