if only they gave it away, right?

so here we are again. alas, the fight between great taste in design and the ever present lack of income wreak havoc on my life. a good example is my living room.

now currently i have two couches. both smell like wet dog (i dont even own a dog), both are on the verge of falling to pieces and while one has the approximate weight of a dying star the other has a hand written message in black sharpie scrawled across it by a friend of mine. i have nothing else. no coffee table, no lamp- wait, correction. i have a fabulous curtain to cover the sliding glass doors that lead to my porch as i live on the second story.

yup, thats exactly what my curtains look like- well, except the rod. dont have one of those yet.

now, i would like to get a new couch. one that doesnt smell like dog. one that doesnt weight 8,738,788 pounds. one that doesnt cost me a months income. tough right? i know. now to add to this i want it to be comfy and neat looking. kind of like this.

at least, well, all mismatched but common feeling fabric patterns. and i want pillows! tons and tons of pillows! i love pillows. you can do tons of stuff with them, like sleep on them, lounge on them, build forts with them, assault people with them and prop stuff up with them.

and to top it off, i need tables. of the coffee and end type. most likely an entertainment center device will be needed as well. and these are the ones i would like.

crap. do you know how much this stuff costs? being an adult is expensive. i tried to go shopping for furniture, but i had a disagreement with store security and was asked to leave.

oh, you want me to elaborate? i shall indulge you just this once (always. i love story time)

(flash back to circa this christmas)
so i totally looked homeless. i will give them that. i had on old shitty combat boots, paint stained desert camo pants, mismatched socks with holes in them, a disgusting old long sleeved (now) grey thermal shirt with a bleach stained black casualties shirt covered in holes and a Dickie's thermal hoody. my hair hadnt been washed in two days and im pretty sure i may have smelled like motor oil.

so there i was, walking around a large retail store that happens to carry house stuff as well as groceries and i grab a magazine. i figure the only way to properly gauge how comfortable a couch will be is to sit on it. and not just for a few minutes. a few minutes can be misleading. i wanted an idea of lounging on said couch for roughly the same time i would if it was in my home. so i proceed to sit and read. i would say close to 45 minutes pass and its still pretty comfy, so i decide to lay on it to get a feel for what it would be like to nap on said couch. well, i had been laying there with my eyes closed because lets be honest. if you walked by someone laying on a couch in a store staring blankly at the ceiling wouldnt you think that was a wee bit creepy? exactly.

so someone starts tapping my shoulder and saying miss, so i opened my eyes and low and behold, apparently this retail store that shall remain nameless had security. i was promptly escorted out. the whole time this overly large man was steering me to the door i was trying to explain that i was going to buy that magazine that he made me leave on the couch.

i mean seriously. i was going to be a paying customer. i swear.

i also may have stabbed a beef cut with a pencil roughly two weeks earlier in order to get it for half off so perhaps they recognized me.....

(now back to the present)
so anyways. i figure i might have found a couch that i would like to purchase for what will become my taj-mah-living room.i can even use this thing they refer to as 'lay-away'. from my feeble grasping of the concept i hand them money in an attempt to free the couch from the prison of their warehouse one paycheck at a time while whispering that eventually the trial will go in our favor and it will be pardoned. little does it know that as soon as i get her back to my place im skinning her and making new covers for her.

as for the tables... well. i know my way around a hammer and practically live in the parking lot of home depot (less than a third of a mile away) so i imagine that if i do some drawing and maybe a little math tossed with hopes and aspirations of greatness i just might get something that will have legs that dont wobble.

heres to hoping right?

still, domesticating ones self from being a commitment phobic, wanderlust addicted, road trip riding, world traveling genius with a penchant for cooking on a hot engine block is quite challenging. but i bought a bed. and my dearest mum bought me a wooden pub table. so really, i have no excuses. its time to grow a pair and put down some roots.

i dont know if beast agrees, because as i was typing dearest he promptly attacked my elbow. *sigh. but i do know he hates road trips. unlike mrs. foo foos kitty who loves them as long as she gets to sit on the dash of my car.