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The journey of a thousand miles begins with...the perfect pair of shoes.

Friday, November 14, 2008

Am I obsessed?

We've done a lot of fun stuff since we arrived (I'll post some of that at a later date), but in the evenings we sit in our apartment and wait (and wait, and wait, and wait) for our household goods (that's military speak for our stuff) to arrive (maybe next month), I have little to do but plot and plan . Where am I going to put this? Where am I going to put that? What color to paint the walls? What curtains (or mistreatments) should I put up? Oh, I go round and round. Maybe I want a new sofa (which I do, but M is violently opposed to-whatever). Maybe I want a different set of dishes. Maybe I want to change the colors in our bedroom. Maybe I just want to throw everything out and start over. Nothing to do but think. And stalk Nester. Seriously, I wait and wait and wait for her to update her site and then when she does, rush over with ridiculous excitement beating a heavy tatoo in my chest. What wil it be this time? What nugget of decorating wisdom will she dole out today? Oh, the joy! The rapture! Sad, isn't? Don't worry Nester, I'm a a whole continent away. You're safe.
Well , last night my obessesion spilled over into my nocturnal musings. Oh, that's right! I dreamed about Nester! I think it's Indy's fault. He likes to look at websites with me and every time I cruise over to the Nester (not THAT often, like 20 times once a day) he comments that he would like to play with her boys. I explained that to play with them he would have to make that really long flight again, and he decided that maybe they could come to our house instead. Smart boy, that one.
In my dream, Indy went over to their house to play (how we lived close enough for this to happen I never quite figured out, but it's a dream, so it doesn't have to make sense. Right? RIGHT?) and Nester invited me to come along for coffee (or tea in my case, since I loathe coffee). In my dream I was practically skipping to her house. Believe me, it's humbling to type that. So, into that mecca of home decor all us faithful readers can only dream of (see, I made a funny) I went. It was amazing! There were mistreatments and toile and barn stars and feathers and tassels galore! There may have been some squealing and covert picture taking on my part, but I cannot confirm this. Oh, and guess who else was there? Go on, guess. That's right! Emily, Kimba and Fussy! Can you belive it? They were all sitting around a table crafting! Crafting! It was the Round Table of Awesomeness (I'm totally trademarking that). Actually, Emily was taking pictures, but I consider that crafting too. Nester invited me to join them! This was a really good dream, people. We crafted, we giggled, we talked about shoes and our kids and homeschooling and decorating! Yea! At some point in the crafting hoopla Indy and the boys came running through the house (as boys are want to do) and somehow red wine was spilled onto a cloth covered side table and some mistreatments. I'm still not sure where the wine came from, but that didn't matter in the dream. Whatever. I was slightly horrified and just knew she'd never invite us over again. Not that I think Nester is like that, it was just something that ran through my head (in my dream). Nester, with typical Southern graciousness, said not to worry, whipped off the table cloth unclipped the mistreatements and took me to a room full (FULL) of fabrics. She rifled through some of them, found exactly what she was looking for, grabbed Priscilla (her hot glue gun in case you don't know), some fringe and whipped up a new mistreatement and table topper in about 10 minutes, oh and a new tassel because she was inspired by the color of the fabric, put them all up and went back to the crafting table. Oh, and she did it all in a gorgeous pair of heels. I think I might have been clapping and jumping up and down, but again, I cannot confirm this. And then.........then my alarm went off (stupid alarm-why couldn't you give me another hour? ) and all the fabulosity faded. But it was a good dream and I woke up smiling. If Johnny Depp had shown up with a car loaded with Prada, Ferragamo and Manolo Blahniks all in my size it would have been the ultimate dream, but as it was, it was pretty awesome. I did worry for a few minutes though that I might be ever so slightly obsessed with Nester. Do you think?

6 comments:

Kimba said...

Oh my gosh! That's hilarious! Thanks for sharing your crazy dream. I'd be honored to be crafting in such great company.

My hubby has to travel to Germany for business occasionally so maybe the next time I'll come to and we can craft and spill a little red wine. ;-)

Kimba

tales from an O.C. cottage said...

Tooooooooooo funny!

M ^..^

Julia @ Hooked on Houses said...

Ha! I'm glad to know I'm not the only person who dreams about blogs and blogging. This is way more detailed than any I've had, though. Got a kick out of your "round table of awesomeness." That's a good group of women to gather 'round the table if you need decorating advice, that's for sure! :-)

The Nester said...

Well I for one think you are perfectly normal. Doesn't everyone have dreams like this?!

and "There were mistreatments and toile and barn stars and feathers and tassels galore!" you don't even need to come to my house--that is pretty much it--besides the unmade beds, piles of laundry, lighting and fun wall accessories on the floor that have yet to be hung!

I love you and as soon as you come back here you must visit me!!!!!! And Kimba and Fussy and Emily should come too!

How fun would that be!?

Love you girl!

Rue said...

You are too cute! Can I come too?

Funny, I don't dream about blogging which is odd because I do it so much, but what a fun dream to have :)

rue

emily said...

This is so funny. And amazingly, pretty true to life. As in, it all could have really happened. You better believe I'd be taking pictures of it every step of the way! HA!

And thanks for being awesome and serving our country with your husband. And sacrificing things like waiting for all your stuff to get there. And letting your husband risk his life. Incomparable, of course...but sacrifices just the same.

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