Okay, maybe that was a touch dramatic. Let me start from the beginning, which is a very good place to start. (Is that line from Winnie the Pooh or something... and what, exactly, is a Pooh?)
Amos and I live in a wonderful, old apartment. It has lots of character, oodles of charm, a plethora of personality, and a fridge on our counter-top.
In case you don't believe me, evidence of the photographic variety:
As in most old places, we have our fair share of quirks (scalding hot water, windows without screens, don't even try to look for anything level) but those quirks offset by leaded glass windows, a big farmhouse kitchen sink, arched doorways and gorgeous wood floors.
But there is something that has been bothering me the 2 1/2 years I've been living here. Bothering me lots and lots.
The white walls.
Now, mind you, I know a good white wall when I see one. I'm not blind. And while I gravitate towards loud and warm colors or seek out soothing hues, I have very much come to appreciate a good white wall. They can be a perfect canvas, a warm, yet blank slate.
But my walls are not that white. They are dingy white. A white that my landlord told me 'could use an update' the day I was moving in. After visiting my sister last weekend and getting a high off painting her basement (both literally and figuratively, folks. Lesson learned: crack a friggin' window) I began to have fantasies about painting the apartment.
I knew I would have to keep it white. Our landlord pops in quite a bit to tighten leaky faucets, etc. so there was no sneaking-behind-and-painting-to-repaint-before-I-moved-out. Darn. But I could do white. I found several shades that were beautiful. I rather liked Benjamin Moore (who I affectionately call BM) White Dove (below):
Oohh, but BM's Decorator's White is nice too!
Thus, I emailed Bob the Landlord. Hi Bob, I wrote. Would you mind if I painted our place? I'll paint, your reimburse, and it'll be grand.
(I'm paraphrasing here...)
He wrote back. It would be grand. I have white paint in the basement, and I'll order more for you.
Ba....What? His white paint? The white paint that is on my walls. Flat paint. Lifeless. Less-dingy-than-now-but-far-from-spectacular.
A photographic reminder, shall we?
Okay, they look dingier/duller in real life - my photographic skillz are, apparently, amazing.
Friends, I am so upset. I know it's ridiculous and many a reader is shaking her respective head, saying "Sar, white is white is white." But, please understand,I had my heart on White and now I must paint white. While it will make my place look better (it is mega-dingy now), it ceases to be what it could have been.
Sigh. Maybe I'll distract myself looking at expensive Seattle real-estate for awhile. Then I'll appreciate my dingy-but-affordable-and-charming-white-not-White-apartment.
I know: I could use a dose of perspective. Shut your face.