I haven’t poured my heart out about Ireland in a while. Over the course of a couple trips, my husband and I accumulated a nice collection of cardboard coasters from various pubs we shared a Guinness or two in. I made it a habit to write on each, what pub we were at, the city and the date, as well as nuances around us that we could remember and giggle at later. Well, I would giggle and he could belly laugh. Anyway, we found a full size Ireland poster and I’ve started to plot a small selection of the coasters according to region. I create many things, but this is one that really makes us reminisce and long for just another pint. It’ll be a highlight of our bar…whenever we create that.
As a homeowner, I watch HGTV pretty often. My husband and I are handy people and have successfully completed a lot of DIY projects and renovations ourselves, by planning, budgeting, compromising and seeing the value of hard work. There is also a crazy concept of opening your mind and imagining possibilities. Not to toot our own horn, but we bought our first house together, which was a fixer-upper and have made it into a comfortable and modern home. We also aren’t in debt up to our eyeballs because of it. We aren’t wealthy, but we get by, so it’s not out of bitterness that I ask this; why are wealthy people so stupid?
I see shows like House Hunters and people will say, “We have a budget of only $900,000.” Only? Are you serious? Then I think, well, they must be pretty smart to have gotten that far ahead. And then the show continues, followed by ridiculously stupid and naïve comments.
“I don’t want that first house because the kitchen was yellow and that’s ugly.”
The title is an obvious statement and one which people often don’t keep in mind when getting a tattoo. The worst is seeing “trendy” tattoos and waiting for an entire generation to have a less than appealing version of it as we age. As someone with two tattoos, both small but one in an obvious place, getting more is something that makes me both very cautious and very eager.
One of the biggest parts of being a creative writer is expressing who you are. It is very easy to perfect our niche and allow details to shine through our written works that tell who we are. People like labeling things, and even ourselves, though many try to dismiss that notion. Tattoos are a version of that, like putting a permanent sticker on your car, but knowing it’s the car you drive for life. Also don’t forget that you’re never getting out of that car. People will judge you on your “decorations” and often decide where to fit you in terms of opportunities that arise.
Tattoos can be expressive in a “wow” way that exudes a look of glowing awe or a “wow” response that hinders more in a “what were they thinking” way. Your body décor can be appealing and open doors that a plain person may not access or it’ll shut a door in your face. There are simply open and closed-minded people, and that’s just the way life is. I suppose it’s a matter of making sure your body art truly depicts who you are and allows room for the opportunities you seek.
I’m often torn between allowing myself to be expressive and artsy or classic and conservative. I appreciate the notions of each and I’m not quite sure what I am deep down. Isn’t it ok to be both when the situation feels right? Do I have to go all in, or does taking myself out of one stereotypical box make me unique? When I’m out with friends, I don’t wear a watch. When I’m at work I do, to avoid the distraction of people staring at the tattoo on my wrist. I’m not ashamed of it and I still don’t regret getting it, but I’m also aware of the snickers I’ve gotten from corporate higher-ups and I don’t need my potential success sidelined by a decision I made when I was 18.
I also worry about what time does to our bodies. I have an inkling (get it?) to get another piece done, but I do worry that if I choose the wrong location, that time won’t be so kind. Maybe the conservative side is hindering the artistic one and I should take more of a chance. Or maybe like many things in life, such as buying a house or finding your spouse, it’ll come to you and you’ll just know. Same should probably apply to finding something you want to adorn on your skin forever. If we can’t wait for that to happen, then at least be prepared for the regret later.
Photo courtesy of sodahead.com
The weekend is here, and that means antique shopping; walking from place to place buying old stuff I really don’t need but really, really want. I love finding antique pieces for our house, furniture to knickknacks that give our home the kind of character that Ikea can’t. My rule is that my purchases must always have function or they can’t come home with me. Old kitchen tools are some of my favorite, even though old ladies condescendingly ask if I know what it is that I’m buying. Yes, I know what it is, and I guarantee I’ll use it more than somebody buying it for just kitschy wall décor.
Antique character is not for everyone. My brother for example, thinks that old furniture is creepy and reminds him of dead people. It’s a little extreme to me, but then again I’m an old soul, whereas he’s a hip 20 year old.
That being said, in a small home like ours, it’s easy to teeter on the side of excess. As I’ve said before, the key to life is “everything in moderation”. This holds true with antiques too unfortunately. Our house is officially full of old furniture and I’m sad to say, I think I’m out of space.
When we bought our house from an elderly man, his children were going to donate all his furniture and were kind enough to ask if we’d like any. For one, we didn’t have any furniture to start with, except for a bed, which, sorry but an antique mattress is one of the only things that would creep me out. Two, so much of his furniture was from the 30’s and 40’s, with beautiful veneers and sturdy wood frames. And who doesn’t want a full size Hi-Fi? I am still giddy about having the monster piece of furniture that plays my record collection with surprisingly good sound. My husband even fashioned a jack so I can plug my iPod into it. In the end, we all won and it also saved the owner’s kids the hassle of having it all hauled away.
Before we got our modern couches and rug, our house was filled with just old wood furniture. We relied on the old couches from my Dad’s basement for a while and the house didn’t quite have our special touch to it; that attempt of a perfect mix between vintage and modern. My Dad stopped over one day and said, “Shan, you’re about a doily away from living in an old lady house. You’re not going to start covering the furniture in plastic are you?”
I began to feel instantly insecure. Could my love of old “stuff” go too far? Did I pass by being hip 20-something, only to teeter on retirement?
Maybe his mockery helped point me in the right direction. Who knows where things could have gone. It is safe to say that the mix is fairly complete now and we more often than not, get compliments on how our house looks like something out of a magazine. And since I’m a pretty serious recycler, I’m happy to see these old wooden monsters have a new life outside of the landfill.