Wishes and a Wall

I have no style. None, nada, zilch. I try, I really do. I've been ooing and ahhing over beutiful hoem since my first Street of Dreams at the age of 7. I read design blogs like apartment therapy compulsively, I even blog stalk strangers in the hopes that I'll see another picture of their perfect home. I keep hoping that I'll learn something from all this - that someday I will awake full of creativity and the ability to create beauty out of a . So far it hasn't gone quite like that.

Which leads me to this wall.


What on earth am I supposed to do with this wall? Its a big old blank focal point. I am fond of the clock, but its so sad and alone. It needs friends. Cheap friends. Oh and Zach should probably like whatever ends up there too. It's quiet a conundrum. (Ideas more than welcome)

Our whole apartment is a conundrum. I want it to be a beautiful, comfortable refuge from the world, but I have no idea how to do it. And our apartment really doesn't help.

See this?



Yup, that and the aforementioned wall is all I have to work with. Well and a closet kitchen and a bathroom, but they don't really count. I have added another bookcase behind the blue chair, a few fun throw pillows and a nice blue duvet cover for the bed since then - as well as all of our IKEA spoils. They've helped - a little. But with as much stuff as we have in such a small space its hard to make things look nice.

Now, I don't entirely hate our apartment. I've grown somewhat accustomed to it - indeed I am rather fond of some small elements. The pictures we hung are very nice, and I kind of like our little sitting nook. But lets face it, our apartment is a tiny one room box that is overflowing with random things that we are very grateful to have, but it in no way resembles a stylish, put together home. There really is only so much that we can do when we need to fit everything we need into one room and are trying to not end up in more debt for our educational endeavors than in absolutely necessary. In an ideal world Zach and I will be able to find a slightly bigger apartment, perhaps even one with actual rooms, and move over the summer. And then my imaginary great uncle Alfred would die a peaceful death and leave his fortune to me because he likes my spunky spirit or something. And then I would hire a decorator. Or possibly become batgirl in a crappy batman movie that has mosly been erased from the public consciousness by Christian Bale. Anyways...

The best thing to do in this scenario (my actual scenario, not Uncle Alfred) would be to learn the value of gratitude. I should end this post with an inspirational tale about watching a documentary about refugees and how I learned how much I really have been blessed with. Or a cool scripture about the fleetingness of physical things. At the very least some sweet thought about how Zach and I will surely look back at our first apartment with a lovely longing for simpler times. But you guys, gratitude is hard. I'm working on it, I really am. But mostly I want to live in a lovely, just the right size, old restored craftsman home with built in bookcases, lovely woodwork and inviting yet stylish decor. Or at least a dishwasher. I could settle for a home with a dishwasher.