IKEA

IKEA has noooooo coffee tables that match the "Medium Brown" POANG chair. (I don't count the large square sitting nine inches off the ground. That's not a table, that's a paving stone.)

Bummer. That color will be harder to match elsewhere.

I got out of the store for five dollars and twenty cents, half of which Rob paid me back. I bought a hundred tealights and two holders. At risk of TMI, I'll say it's sometimes more pleasant to be able to have a flame burning in the Little Room.

Tile

I'd like to remove the Mary Kay Pink from my bathroom walls.

I'm learning a lot more than I ever wanted to know about how to choose the right kind of tile, how to hang tile, how to remove old tile, what to do if what was under your old tile is not in fact appropriate for putting tile upon, and just generally how much money and time could be sunk into a seemingly simple project like this.

I do NOT trust my house. The things we've discovered...! I half expect to pull that tile off and find oh, I don't know, bare wood underneath. Or electrical wires swinging loose through standing puddles of water. Or complete lack of studs in this section of the house, for all I know. That's the kind of suspicion a person acquires after being in this house for a while.

I have also discovered that tile is incredibly frigging expensive. It's a lot worse when you go over to Home Expo Center, A Home Depot Company, where a shower door costs (I kid you not) $2500, and that's for one that doesn't actually open wide enough for a human.

In a way, I'm almost glad my bathroom is Mary Kay Pink. If it were ANY other color, I'd be thinking "perhaps that's not so bad after all," and I might just stop and live with it, but every time I get tempted to do that, the words I actually have to put together are "perhaps Mary Kay Pink isn't so bad after all," and then I hear what I just thought, and that's the end of THAT little delusion.

C4 last night

Danced to Mike Jacobs last night. Good research: I'm splitting a weekend with him in March.

Note to Self: do not EVER, EVER use "follow the yellow brick road". Once in an evening is enough for that hideous call, and Mike actually LIKES it, so I better make sure to call it zero times during my half of the dance. Negative one or two would be even better.

Note to Self: dancing eight tips is one too many for my feet the way they are. It may in fact be more than one too many. Maybe it was eight too many, for all I know.

Massage

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

Just got a wonderful massage. Kim, the massage therapist, recently learned deep-tissue work and a thing she calls "orthobiotomy" (which sounds to me like an insole is going to surgically remove my body, but what do I know). She did a thing with my neck that was incredibly effective at getting rid of knots. I was stunned at how fast they melted away.

I'll go curl up in a warm spot now.