November 10, 2005
Starting a Trend
I'm a fan of the HBO series "Rome" which, sadly, only has two episodes remaining.
In tribute to the terrific series, I'm going to start saying "Nay." In the series, characters say "nay" to basically augment a point. It's kind of like saying "Right" in modern times. So, instead of saying "Salma Hayek is one hot female, right?" I'm going to start saying "Salma Hayek is one hot female, nay?"
This is a good idea, nay?
Okay, fine, Kari Byron is one hot female. Kari Byron. Mmm, a Kari Byron. A Kari Byron would be fine.
Feeling Distressed
If there's one thing my girlfriend and I disagree on, it's everything. Therefore, decisions regarding house decorating and furnishing can be knock-down, drag-out affairs.
For example, she'll want a nice, comfortable couch in the living room, while I'll want a Lay-Z-Boy recliner with a built-in refridgerator and laptop computer, universal remote control and large treaded wheels for transporting me from the television to the bed. Those are our battle lines, and we defend them vigorously.
I kid. . . sort of. I generally don't care about a lot of furniture decisions she makes. So long as it's comfortable, or functional, and looks pretty good, she typically gets her way about 70 percent of the time.
Well, last week, she approached me in that coaxing, coercive way of hers' that just screams that she wants something. She then showed me a picture of a console table she fell in love with and just totally, totally, TOTALLY had to have.
I looked at the picture for a bit. It showed a white console table with a finished hardwood top. However, just as I about to admit that I had no problem with the table, I noticed something.
"Wait a minute," I said. "The paint's chipped all over that thing. It looks like it was dragged behind a car."
"No, it's supposed to look like that," she explained. "It's 'distressed.'"
I pondered this for a bit, wondering why a console table would be distressed--I mean besides the fact it had been sawed off at the trunk, been planed into boards and then tacked together to serve the human purpose of holding up candles and lamps. All that would be distressing, I suppose.
But, no, "distressed," as it applies to furniture means that the piece is lovingly crafted, carefully painted, and then attacked by a sander to give the furniture a worn, used look.
Now, maybe it's just me, but I like new furniture to look. . . well. . . NEW. I've had years and years of experience giving furniture a distressed look, and I'd like the opportunity to have at least a few months or so of enjoying a pristine piece of furniture before I put the first inevitable ding in the finish.
These were the battle lines we drew regarding the console table, and we both started piling sandbags up to protect our positions. She insisted that the distressed look was in, and I fired back with my .50 calibre "I Don't Care" sniper rifle.
There was no way I was going to start moving in furniture that basically came pre-damaged. Damaging furniture was MY job, and no one was going to deny me my responsibility.
"You don't have an eye for decorating like I do," she protested. "This will look great in here. People like the look of distressed furniture!"
"Hey, remember how I accidently ripped the soap dish off the bathroom wall?" I asked. "I was going to replace it, but I think I'll just say the bathroom simply has a distressed look to it. Duct tape and plastic are CHARMING!"
This line of argumentation went on for a couple days, not necessarily non-stop, but pretty close to that. I think I heard her making an argument for distressed furniture in her sleep, but she may have just been snoring, which would be about as convincing.
In the end, she finally understood that there was simply no wiggle room when it came to my complete distaste for distressed furniture, and she agreed, reluctantly as all hell, to look for an alternative console table.
All of which makes me simply dread purchasing an entertainment center.
It's all very distressing.
And now for some shameless name dropping in the hopes of boosting Web traffic: Alexis Bledel. Alexis Bledel. Alexis Bledel. Alexis Bledel. Alexis Bledel. Alexis Bledel. Alexis Bledel. Alexis Bledel.
