You Down With OCDD? (Yeah, You Know Me)

If you're anything like me, you have Obsessive Compulsive Decorating Disorder (OCDD). It is characterized by a marked need to see EVERY example of whatever thing is currently occupying your mental space -- be it paint colors, couches, rugs, lamps, chairs, etc., followed by an overwhelming sense of analysis paralysis, and culminating in a rushed selection, because you just need to BUY something, dammit. Currently this disease is forcing me to shop for a new couch, a new white paint color, and new wallpaper, but in the end I will probably just buy some dumb thrift store tchotchke to abate my compulsion, since none of those big purchases/projects are logical if The Hunny and I actually want to move in the new year. Or, I will just screw logic, and buy something big and cheap that I hate next month. Last night, Karly emailed to tell me that I have 674 Craigslist postings bookmarked. I thought to myself, "Ha, I've likely deleted more than twice that many." So, let's see... that makes over 2000 postings that have caught my gimlet eye in the last year.

I think I have a problem, people. But I'm pretty sure it's not my fault.

(via Weather Sealed)

Just look at the history of Crayola colors. At the turn of the (last) century, there were only eight colors. EIGHT. Period. In the last 100 years, the choices have exponentially multiplied, so that I can't even count all the tiny little bars to tell you how many colors there are now. See there? The choices are uncountable. The variations and combinations thereof -- innumerable. And those are just stupid crayons. Imagine how many sofas, white paint colors, and wallpaper patterns, there are today.

Maybe I should time travel back to 1903, with its eight-color palette, and order my sofa from the Sears Roebuck catalog, whitewash the woodwork, and wallpaper... with the Sears Roebuck catalog. Which would be fine, except for one tiny detail.

There's no Craigslist.

Stay Calm

Just East of downtown Albuquerque is an old mental institution.  Built at the turn of the 20th century it is 100% handmade awesomeness.  Albuquerque's local paper, the Alibi, runs a reader poll every year asking burque residents to pick all their favorite crap around town.  Every year that I lived there I voted for that damn mental institution under the "best building" category (the whole poll was write-in only) and never ever once did it win.  The honor always went to some bank building or, maybe on a good year, a museum. Tonight while cruising the interwebs I found these photographs of abandoned insane asylums by Rob Dobi.  His series, New England Ruins, restores hope that one day (cross your fingers!!!) enough of those ABQ knuckle heads will finally get their act together and vote that awesome institution into the #1 slot it deserves.

I put this picture first to remind you dudes not to be scared, despite the fact that the following pictures are so creepy that there is a 100% chance that our blog is haunted now.

Also, how bizarre is it that this message, stenciled onto a wall, was supposed to remind the cuckoo residents to keep it chill?

Rob has also shot several abandoned schools, hospitals, medical centers, homes, mills and other spaces in the New England area.  Every shot is stunning.  See them here.

Maxi Lamp, Mini Tour

Somehow, I managed to sneak in a ton of grownup fun this past week/end, which has been super amazing, but also exhausting. The good news is that stuff has been happening at the house, mostly because I furiously cleaned and rearranged the place before my guest arrived, but also because we ventured more than a mile from the house and did some real shopping. HOORAY! Guess what I bought? You'll never guess...

My lighting obsession forced me to load up The Hunny and Ike and drive waaaaaaaaaaaay far away, to the southern wilds of Austin, where this golden whale of a lamp was patiently awaiting escape from its scary creepy, soon to be ex, owners. Thank goodness I was able to rescue it.

Happily it was not terribly abused, although it has some fritzy wiring issues (exposed wires: dangerous, or super dangerous for children?), and it's a lil dented, and the odd scuff and scrape mar its gorgeously golden visage, but you know what? She is beautiful to me.

Look! Another picture of her... photo overkill? Well, too damn bad. I'm pretty excited about the way she frames the room. Also, the purchase of this lamp allowed me to get rid of two other lamps that were annoying me. Also, you are not allowed to make fun of the twisty lamp on the console, because even though it, too, is annoying, it's only temporary. Let's face it -- next month this will probably look like a totally different room.

Since I bought the arc lamp, I had to do something with the living room lamps, so they went into our bedroom. But then I had to do something with the old bedroom lamps, so they went into Ike's room. Aww, look, two bald eagles are keeping watch over the guest bed in Ike's room -- the room that doesn't even have a crib in it because Ike is still sleeping in our room. That's another, totally different, story, but it does explain why I don't have any pictures of the lamps in our bedroom (because I didn't feel like cleaning it, and also there is a giant crib in the middle of the room that will probably never, ever leave. Sigh).

Anyway, I couldn't just stop with the lamp because I was getting used to the feel of money flying out of my pockets, so I bought this crazy ass smoked glass diamond mirror thing, which I thought was going in the hallway...

But duh, even a ding dong could tell that it's way too big for the space. Now what am I going to do with that stupid mirror? It's not wide enough to go over the console table. Obviously I am out of shopping practice.

For absolutely no reason I am ending this post with a gratuitous picture of Brian, because he is such a handsome boy, and he makes me happy.

Hope y'all enjoyed the fruits of my shopping labors. I worked REALLY HARD at buying these fine, fine items, but now I am broke and will have to make do with spraypaint and ingenuity for the time being. Don't worry -- I'll find something to paint if it kills me. I'm on a roll.