When one purchases a new home – something I know about since I have done this twice in my 30 years – one gets the pleasure/stress of furnishing said new home. My awesome house in Atlanta, while darling, was challenging in its layout – I spent WEEKS trying to figure out how to make the living room fit with a fireplace and four doors. (I kid you not.) Yet in the battle of Aubrey vs. Home Furnishings, I remain victorious.
Upon moving to San Francisco, I sold probably about 2/3 of my stuff. My clothes. My televisions. My (sigh) new furniture. An entire bedroom set. A blow-up pool where Lila first learned that she loved the water. (Oh, the memories.) And so I descended upon the City by the Bay with too many warm-weather clothing, a loveseat and overstuffed chair, and a bedroom set. (Oh, and many, MANY kitchen gadgets. Ironic since I don’t cook.) Since then, I’ve been downsizing again and again, trying to fit the things I had into increasingly smaller spaces. To call this a challenge in spatial perception would be like saying that Mike Tyson is a little testy at times.
And yet I’m again faced with the pleasures/stress of furnishing my apartment – my roommate is moving out, and I get to have an office for the first time in, um, four years! FOUR YEARS! AN OFFICE! Seriously, my elation is exuberant! I can’t yet afford to buy a place here in San Francisco (who can!?) so in the meantime, I’m turning my cute apartment into a CUTER apartment, replete with new furnishings and decor. Just call me Martha Stewart (minus that whole insider trading thing.) So, the painters are coming for an estimate on Thursday, the carpet cleaners will be there first thing Saturday morning, and I’m now trolling Crate & Barrel and Pottery Barn to figure out just what I need (and how to separate that from what I *WANT*. The distinction is getting tricky.) I’ve decided to utilize their registry lists to keep track of the things I’m thinking about – creating a fake "Housewarming Party" for July – and again, I gravitated towards the helpful kitchen gadgets that I don’t need (yet that I *DO* have space for. HURRAH!) Nothing like creating a registry with no co-registrant to make you feel very Carrie Bradshaw-esque.*
Want a sneak peek into what I’m thinking WITHOUT having to go to the registries? Here’s a hint of things to come:
Only there’s only one desk, it’s not that well lit, and about 1/4 in size. And those framed pictures of children actually contain mon menagerie.
Nothing screams "Single" like a one-person registry for a fake party and pictures of your cats on the wall.
*Remember when she’s so pissed at everyone getting married and having babies that she registers herself at Manolo? Yeah. That’s me. Except high heels hurt my feet and I’d MUCH prefer matching chip & dip bowls in festive colors.