Thus far, it has taken me roughly two months to redo the horrendous caulk job in my bathroom. What should have taken no more than a few hours has been stretched into a drawn-out, casual sort of affair, with long periods of rest punctuated by short, manic spurts of activity. So far I’ve succeeded in scraping away and replacing all the caulk around the top of the tub, but have been unsuccessful at working my way down to the floor. Don’t even bring up that spot between the sink and the wall or you’re dead to me.
I don’t know where this year is going, but I’m fairly certain that science has found a way to speed time while simultaneously slowing my mental processes and emptying my bank account. This might also just be an indication that I’ve been really busy and taking on any major project (or, let’s face it, even most minor projects) just seems totally out of the question and overwhelming. Hence, the caulk situation. Luckily school ends in a week.
As such, I’ve been trying to take this as an opportunity take care of some of those smaller items on my to-do list that tend to fall by the wayside in the excitement of things that are…way more exciting. It’s miserable shit, but it’s also teaching me lofty concepts like “following through” and “responsibility.”
Here is our original living room light fixture. I’ll just say it was probably one of the ugliest things I’ve ever seen and leave it at that. You don’t even want to know the horrors on top of that circle of glass.
BOOM, new light. New light that is actually old, seeing as I bought it off Craigslist back in AUGUST. Take that in for a second. AUGUST.
It’s a Kartell FL/Y Suspension Lamp. It’s huge and plastic and gives off nice light and retails for like $300 but I bought it for $60. Even though Max has all but outlawed the use of overhead lights, I like knowing it’s up there. Waiting. Ready for service in the rare moments when I can get away with it.
BUT THAT’S NOT ALL.
A long time ago, right after I painted the living room, I made the super crappy mistake of trying to pretend I liked curtains. This was a bad idea, seeing as I do not like curtains. Not for myself, anyway, or maybe only these curtains hung in this horrible way. I’m all about curtains for other people. I’m sure yours look great, for example, because you’re perfect. You know how to hang a curtain.
Yes, this was the best picture I could scrounge up of the curtain fiasco of 2011-early ’12. Apologies.
God, I hated those curtains. Because they were “temporary,” I decided I didn’t care that the panels were too wide, so the windows could only accommodate one panel each. Sure, I could have cut them in half lengthwise to make two skinnier panels like normal curtain-loving folk might do, but they were “temporary” and…too much effort. I’m exhausted just thinking about it.
Here’s a close-up. RITVA curtains from IKEA on an ugly IKEA curtain rod that seems to have been discontinued. That RITVA fabric is actually really nice, by the way, it just looked awful in my windows.
This entire curtain nightmare was brought on by IKEA’s choice to discontinue the fabulous and perfect and beautiful light of my life, fire of my loins that was the ENJE roller blind. Sensing the remote possibility that such an earth-shattering decision might be made by my favorite Swedish furniture manufacturer, I had hoarded all of my ENJE shades from my last apartment, but these two living room windows were too big for those salvaged sloppy seconds. So I had to wait. And wait. And wait. I heard all of this was brought on because the pull-chain constituted a possible strangling hazard for toddlers or something, but honestly? I’m not a huge fan of most kids, but I was a huge fan of those blinds. You see where I’m going here.
Oh joyous day when the ENJE returned to IKEA, but of course they went and bastardized a perfectly good child-repellent design with a new spring-loaded suspension system instead of a pull-chain, which seems like it would be infinitely more hazardous. So I bought two, brimming with excitement to go home and immediately rip down the curtains and throw up my new shades.
A good three or four months later, I finally got around to cutting them to size and actually hanging them in my windows.
Why is it so hard for me to take a decent photo on a sunny day? Point is, you can kind of make out where the shade ends, about six inches short of the actual bottom of the window. IKEA, you sneaky little bitch. While the ENJE was undergoing its flashy redesign, IKEA also decided to shorten the shades to a mere 64 inches, from what had previously been about 6,000 inches. What, IKEA, no more love for big-ass pre-war windows? Like, seriously, could my life be any harder?
Fuck that noise, even too-short ENJE blinds are better than the curtain disaster. Who needs those last 6 inches? IT TOTALLY DOESN”T DRIVE ME CRAZY!!! I SWEAR!!!
It drives me fucking insane.
Here’s a picture to hopefully convey how great the fabric is on these things, diffusing just the right amount of light and obscuring just enough of the outside world for you to both see it when you want to and pretend it isn’t there when you want to be naked.
Oh, and because I like to think of myself as a rebel first and a responsible consumer second, I totally harvested all the pull-chain pieces and brackets from my old too-small shades and used them on the new shades, discarding the weird spring-loaded system that I couldn’t get used to. Sticking it to the man!!!
I don’t really know why I’m explaining the intricate minutia of the differences between two versions of the same IKEA products and my basically n0n-replicable means of addressing my disappointment, but the real takeaway here is this: toddlers, stay out of my apartment. You have been warned.
BUT THAT’S NOT ALL.
Here’s something I know we can all rally around.
Craigslist. $75. It’s way more comfortable than the Bertoia, which leaves butts looking like belgian waffles.
The finish on the wood is kind of chipped up, so I might try to fix that at some point. Maybe. Probably never but I’ll add it to the list.