Monday, May 11, 2009

A House is not a Home

Ramblings Post #29
Sometimes you want to feel a certain way. You know, a feeling of how things are supposed to be. Like eating off of china instead of paper plates, or not being comfortable leaving the house until you've got your face on, or until you've had that first cup of coffee. Sometimes, and it's not always large or significant to anyone but just need certain things, certain ways.

How is a house supposed to feel?

My house feels like an over sized apartment. Due to financial constraints and an unwillingness to incur unnecessary debt, my house is basically the furniture from my former apartment plus appliances, spread out. I believe since I've moved in my major purchases have consisted of a step ladder and a picture frame. I only have a decent sized TV because Spanky went flat screen and thoughtfully left,er...donated her old TV to the cause. And since I've decide to go to graduate school, a modern decor makeover doesn't seem to be forthcoming anytime soon.

Which is kinda depressing when you consider how old I am.

Thus my house feels more like a place I'm staying as opposed to say, my house...which still mentally invokes my mother's home in the Cackalack, with it's warm and homey touches that come from just living there. It's my house, I pay the mortgage but I don't feel like a live there. I feel like it's temporary. Which is fucked up considering the housing market and the sad reality that I'm gonna be the a while (barring lottery windfall or lighting strike). I need to stop thinking about the other house I shoulda bought.

When I first moved in I purchased the interior design books: Metropolitan Home, Renovation Style, Home and Architectural Digest and the like, hoping to get some idea of what I wanted. And every week passes and my house continues to resemble a college kids apartment. It is singularly frustrating. You know how it is, every time you get a little bit ahead, something pops up...transmission on the car, dental work, something else...and bang you're eating popcorn on that couch one more Tuesday night.

They say you never grow up to your parents, and although my parents have visited, they seem content with it. Which is hella disconcerting. I'm fast approaching middle age, and since a man's home is his castle, I figured they would at least be on me about making some upgrades. But no, they seem fine with it's decor about fifteen years to young for me.

So I'm a little ashamed to have folks over because of where it is and what is in it...which is the whole of the thing. True my friends "understand"...but I'm uncomfortable with how it looks most of the time, its not them. Call it ego. I'm not looking for flashy, but at least up to standard, ya know. I kinda wish I was brought up like apparently everyone else and only cared if my rims was tight.

I so do not want to go into debt behind this. I may have no choice for my own sanity.

Barkeep. Would you be interested in selling those loungers by the

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