My name is Shel and I have a degree in Interior Design.
Yep.
But like the mechanic whose car is always broken down, my house isn't decorated at all. Not even close. In fact, I don't even let people come over unless they already love me unconditionally, or have to love me because I'm family. Sure, I have thousands upon thousands of ideas and loads of creativity...but I also suffer from laziness and a general lack of interest in any of the domestic talents my friends and family have so effortlessly obtained. At least when it comes to my own house, that is. I can decorate the heck out of anyone else's house. I even enjoy ironing, cleaning and dusting when it's at someone else's house or office. Organizing? I'm a pro! Need lots of ideas for planning a dinner party? I'm all over it! But in my house...nuh uh. Ask anyone...I am so not a housekeeper.
Why am I telling you this? I guess it is therapy for me. I don't want to be like this, really. I want to use all of my many ideas, vast talents and creative knack for good instead of evil. Well, not evil so much...but sometimes my fingers like to type funny things. I often crack myself up at the littlest things I've magically typed, and then I get sidetracked and end up looking up 'Real Housewives of Orange County' on IMDb to see if anyone else thinks Tamra is really pretty until she starts badmouthing everyone else. My favorite is probably Alexis because she can rock the big chest and isn't ashamed to show it. Then I find out that Heather used to be on the show 'Men Behaving Badly' which starred Rob Schneider, whom I love and hope to marry one day when Brad and I move to Utah and I can have two husbands and then I think that I should totally change my facebook photo to the one of me, Brad and Rob Schneider because we really do make a fine couple (triple?) and then I remember that I needed to charge Jimmy Kindle so that I can keep reading Jen Lancaster's new book, 'Jeneration X: One Reluctant Adult's Attempt to Unarrest Her Arrested Development; Or, Why It's Never Too Late for Her Dumb Ass to Learn Why Froot Loops Are Not for Dinner'
If you haven't read anything of hers...drop everything and run to Amazon.com immediately...after reading the rest of my blog, that is.
See? Even with this blog, I find myself procrastinating. I put off blogging because I don't have anything wonderful to show. My photos often are blurry, or there might be pug fur on my painted masterpiece, or my project just didn't turn out so well and I'm too lazy to photoshop anything into perfection. But as of now....or sometime next week...I'm going to change all that. I'm going to get this house in order and start decorating it so nicely that Martha Stewart will call me personally, fly to Texas and offer me a high-salary job showcasing my talents for making small adirondack chairs out of scrapbook paper.
(Martha, I don't know you...and this is crazy, but here's my paper chair, so call me maybe)
These little beauties are going to be used as place cards for the next Wine Dinner I'm setting up. I had originally planned to make up a tutorial as I went along so that I could showcase these on my blog and hopefully impress my three followers. Eh...not so much. Ultimately, they ended up being a product of lots of random folding, paper cuts, cursing and copious amounts of sparkling wine. But that's for an entirely different blog post altogether now.
"that's for an entirely different blog post"
So, I realize now that I'm not going to be a perfect blogger, or a perfect housewife, or a perfect Pinterest-pinning person. My blog posts might have bad photos, or bad results, or be full of bad humor and random movie quotes...but they're definitely ME.
If I complete (ha! complete! heh heh...that's funny) a project and it doesn't turn out beautifully, I'm going to show it anyway. Because really? Who out there is perfect? (Besides the people I went to high school with...you guys are on a completely different playing field...amazing at what you all can do. Did we really go to the same school?!!?!) Anyway, I bet there are more than just a few people out there like me who haven't mastered the skills of domestic goodness and might actually appreciate my clumsy attempts at it.
There. The first step is admitting I have a problem.
Oh, and Martha? I would totally invite you over for a visit, but my guest room is reserved for Rob Schneider.
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