Decisions: That which makes grown (wo)men cry.

In the years that I have been "living on my own" (I put that in "quotes" since I've always had roommates--I'd hate to live totally by myself. The loneliness would STANK) and thus in charge of making my house into my home, I occasionally have felt quite confused about what exactly "my style" is. Sure, there are lots of things that I like--whenever I flip through a magazine, go shopping, or browse online, I see many individual items or even whole rooms that make me say, "Ohmuhgersh! I lurve that so matsch!" (yes, I sometimes talk in strange voices when I am overcome with excitement). 

But, then, there is that awful moment when I am working on a room (like the living room and the bedroom in my former house) and I suddenly don't like any of the choices that are in front of me because [1] they don't flow with the style of of rooms in my house, [2] I am not thrilled by the thought of living in the space that these particular options would create, [3] all of a sudden I hate everything in every store I shop, or [4] whatever other reason my brain all of a sudden makes all options look blah.

This is where Pinterest has been quite helpful to me. If you don't know what Pinterest is, then educate yo'self. 

Anyways, Pinterest. Ah, yes, it is a place of many possibilities. Some people observe/complain that it affords viewers too much possibilities, rendering them unsatisfied with what real life has to offer them. While this certainly can true, I discovered it not just a place of inspiration ("pinspiration" as some might say), but also a place that helped me better determine what is "my style."

Rummaging through my 1,500+ pins (don't worry, that number pales in comparison to some others), I see a definite trend. I am all about rooms being cozy and home-y. People gots to be able to relax!

a good chair for curling up to read a book

Rooms that are well-lit. I prefer natural, accent, or soft, ambient lighting, as opposed to harsh or ceiling light. 

Design elements and details that recall earlier times are quite charming to me. Whole rooms that come straight from a catalog or a hotel are most unpleasant. I love personal touches, a room that tells a story because it looks like it is lived in by real people. 

family photos

Also, I looove color! At a certain point in time, I thought my style might have been eclectic (an "official" style, in design lingo). I've come to realize that, no, I am not a pure-bred eclectic in taste. Perhaps it is because of my OCD tendencies, but a room that has too much going on (too many contrasting colors, patterns, or styles) begins to feel a little claustrophobic to me.

this is probably as eclectic as I could ever go. even then, it might overwhelm me on a bad day

A good vintage floral print can make my heart swoon (mixed metaphors? oh well). Though, I don't think I'd like a room that is overladen with vintage prints or too much florals. The right amount, however, can be perfection.

gotta be careful waking up under that slanted ceiling. 

Another thing about florals is that, wen done right, it can go marvelously well with other prints and textures!

As a person who notices details (sometimes to an embarrassing extent--seriously) I particularly appreciate where someone goes the extra mile to decorate a little niche in their home. Perhaps this comes to me from my grandmother, who thinks of making the most insignificant thing beautiful. 

I could hang out in this bathroom for a lot longer than I needed to

I would be remiss to not note that I am a sucker--a totally sucker--for things that are used in unexpected ways. Some people are just so darn creative! The creativity of others completely delights me, while maybe also stoking my competitive side, "how did they think of that?!"

lampshade used with a pendant light

create two rooms with curtains 

Last, and this is related to the first: What is most important to me in a room is that it is comfortable. Comfortable? Isn't that a little subjective? Well, yes, I suppose it could be. Ultimately, home should be where you feel most comfortable. But, I also want my home to feel comfortable to other people too. 

i'd hate for my design choices to turn out like this

There it is, folks. I'm not sure if I have a quick fill-in to this statement year "my personal style is _____." I am feeling much more confident in my design adventures. Though Pinterest didn't give me my style, it was quite helpful in helping me hone it down. So, for that, thanks, Pinterest! 

But, more importantly, thank you for also giving me a few hours of good laughs:

every parent wants one of these

honest abe. you can always count on him.

i totally hate when that happens

Barbie without makeup. Priceless.

this is how cats really are. i'm not kidding.

The most interesting person I talk to = Myself

Last week I was driving to work and happened to see a man, of middle age I might assume, who was walking along the road and clearly having a conversation with no one other than himself. My immediate thoughts were two: First, I realize that such behaviour could be indicative of the gentleman's well-being being less than well. In other words, perhaps he was mentally unwell and thus I felt both concern and pity for him. Mental illness can be a very tough cross to carry. The second thought I had was--perhaps this man is not affected by mental illness, but he merely is having a conversation with himself. What is the difference between the first and the second thought? Well, in the case of the second, it is the fact that everyone has conversations with him/herself at some point in life.

You might find that statement very incredulous on first-read. But, read again, Dear Reader, that statement and think on these questions for a moment: Have you ever, replayed a conversation in your head, perhaps imagining what else you might have been able to say instead of the thing that you actually said (similar to what Meg Ryan/Kathleen Kelly describes in this scene in "You Got Mail")? Or, perhaps you are the type who, like Mr. Collins of Pride and Prejudice, (see 3:28-3:50) is inclined to prep yourself for a forthcoming conversation by anticipating conversation topics, questions and answers?

If you are inclined to deny that you have ever done any of the aforementioned behaviours, then I am inclined to call you a liar because I do believe that we all, at some point in our lives before we die, have a conversation with ourselves. I am not talking about the kind of conversations that little kids have with their imaginary friends. I am talking more about a running dialogue about our lives that can sometimes take place within our brains. And it is okay if we do this (responsibly and in moderation, of course, we don't want to be too quirky). Don't be ashamed if you have ever found yourself lost in a conversation in your head, whether it be as you are driving in the car, out on a run, lying in bed at night, or primping in front of the mirror like this girl

Say it loud and say it proud!

You know what else? I have tested this theory and proven it true. As I was writing this blog, my roommate asked me about today's topic and so I told her: "I am asking people to accept the fact that we all have conversations with ourselves and that it is okay to be honest with each other about it." And you know what? before I had finished getting the sentence out of my mouth she was agreeing with me. No, we are not just two crazy people who live together. We are quite normal, or so we are told (unless we are surrounded by the same liars who would deny that they have conversations with themselves). But, whatever, the fact still remains: I have also checked out this theory with other people and the consensus is that normal people can have conversations with themselves.

I mean, if you really think about it, having a conversation with yourself is pretty much 70% of what blogging is. Yeah, sure, you could have readers who you are talking to, but can you actually call blogging a conversation with another person? Do you really know who those readers are? Do they even exist? For those of us who still have relatively low counts in our "Followers" list and "Comments" boxes, I would venture a guess that a majority of our posts are glorified conversations with ourselves (for a more intellectual conversation on this topic see here). Who am I to think that anyone would remotely care about what I am thinking about, so much so that they would want to spend their time reading one of my blog posts? (Well, apparently you do since you are reading this. So don't take that as an insult or anything).

The funny thing about having a blog--whether it is about decorating or anything else--is that once you have a blog, you get sucked into this mindset of thinking about how and what would please your readers to read about on your blog. I want to please my readers. I want it to be worth your time to read my blog. I don't think this desire is a bad one. Yet, this translates into my having 'moments of inspiration' in which I think, "Oh! I could totally blog about this!" And then I proceed to start planning out in my head all of the descriptions and other witty things I could say in this prospective post which would please the reader and entice them to become more of a follower of my blog. But, at the end of the day, it is just a conversation with myself in my head because, although my "Followers", "Comments" and blog stats tell me that some people read my posts, the numbers are sparing as of the moment. I don't know all of the readers and I really don't know how many readers of mine actually exist.

So, at least for the time being, this blog is largely a conversation that I am having with myself that the occasional reader is privy to watching in on, similar to the way in which I watched in on the conversation that the man on the side of the road was having with himself (assuming, of course, that he wasn't mentally ill). And, for that reason, I hope that my taking ownership of my conversations with myself gives you permission to not feel weird or crazy (unless you actually are weird or crazy) when you catch yourself having your next conversation with yourself. Don't deny or be harsh on yourself, just accept the fact that it is part of human life to every-so-often converse with your oh-so-interesting-self.