In the Bedroom...

While I'm sure many of you fine and fabulous people spent your Valentine's wrapped up in a sea of sappy love sickness, I don't care. If I had my choice, this is where I would spend my next free weekend...burrowing deep under the covers of these delicious gems.

Ok. I'm really into this mirrored shit. I don't care if it's trendy of gaudy or whatever. I think it's sweet, and lord knows I've never met a mirror I didn't like.

So. This is very white. Like, compulsively white. It makes me want to whip my hair back n forth with paint on the ends to splash things up and drip some color onto this palette. However, I'm digging the super low, bed-on-the-floor look. It's just asking to have a Sunday crossword completed in its nest.

First off, I am automatically jealous of anyone living in a loft, much less a loft with exposed brick and chipping paint. Nothing says love like potential lead poisoning. Nothing.



This is J-Lo's bedroom. It almost makes up for the 98% skank vibes she puts out. I die for that light fixture. I pine for the flesh-colored, rosy walls. I want some GD lucite in my life! Damn you, Jenny. If this is what your block is like, sign me up.

My fav fabric, minus the color. This is what I would upholster my chairs with in my dream world.

My thoughts...exactly.



Happy Tuesday, hoebags. My face is feeling luscious post-indulgent facial and the angels are singing.

P.S. Speaking of angels...potential Holla Back DC! alert in my very office:

Get in the elevator. Hit L. Go down one flight. Two guys from my work get in, both old/decrepit--go figure. They push the button for P3. We ride down the elevator, them chatting, me ignoring. Arrive to the lobby and they realize they've pushed the wrong button. As I get off the elevator, one of them says, "Well, we forgot to push the right level--looks like we were distracted by the angel in the elevator with us! Couldn't get over what we saw! Did you see that? Bahahaha!"

Kill me. Angel of death if you look at me again, mofos.

That is all.