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I’m turning forty. Need a couch?
July 14th, 2008
I’m turning forty in August and I’m gonna celebrate it, by golly.
Really, what’s not to celebrate? Everyone knows women are like wine: they only get better with age.
This is true for many reasons but the best, IMHO, are:
- The gradual loss of interest in the obsession with physical ideals that characterizes our society, which is closely related to the realization that being considered “hot” ain’t all it’s cracked up to be. Thus enlightened, she gets off that treadmill and gets on with her life.1
- The realization that the old song is true: You can’t please everyone so you got to please yourself.
This, my friends, is why life begins at forty. 2
———————-
Inspired as I am by the ginormous amount of work and resulting gorgeosity of Bayou and Lach’s house for their recent ‘warming, I’ve decided to give myself the gift of a purty new living room redesign, to be finished in time for my soiree. Happy birthday to me.
So yesterday I met with fellow righteous rib and interior designer friend Stephanie to discuss Operation Living Room Makeover. In the course of discussion, it became apparent that the adjoining dining room would also need to be spruced up a bit. Living rooms do not live in a vaccum, you know.
By the end of the afternoon, we’d drawn up a plan and a corresponding to-do list, scheduled for completion by Friday, August 8:
- paint the living room (Croquet AF-455)
- paint the dining room (Amuleto AF-365)
- sell a couch and ottoman
- buy two chairs, coffee table, new fireplace front, lamps, shelving, and stereo/tv cabinet
- find an 8′ x 7′ carpet rem (chocolate brown) for the dining room and have it bound
- buy and frame a 24″ x 52″ art print for my living room
In reviewing these to-do’s, which both of us have to work on in between our 9-to-5 jobs, I alternate between feeling totally psyched and thinking I am completely insane.
Kevin, bless his heart, has agreed to help me do the painting this weekend, even though that job is as fun to him as driving spikes into his ears. And I’m going tell my brother Kyle that if, as he suggested this weekend, he wants to call it his party, too (since his b-day is in late July and he’s too lazy to have his own), he’s gonna have to help paint and/or move furniture.
Steph assures me that the rest can all get done in time as long as we don’t dally.
So of course, here I am, dallying.
I may not post quite as much in the next month, and I apologize in advance if what I do post is whiny, panicky or incomprehensible.
To make up for it, I’m inviting you all to the party. Bring your bathing suit pour la hot tub.
And if you want a like-new, chocolate brown leather couch and matching ottoman, and/or you like to paint interiors, please let me know.
- This is not to say that women of any age shouldn’t value their health. After all, the revolution cannot be won by armies of disintegrating warriors. Luckily, 95% of all disease is lifestyle-related, so most women can nail this one pretty easily. [↩]
- Why it takes us this long to figure these things out is a mystery, but better late than never. [↩]
5 Responses to “I’m turning forty. Need a couch?”
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Before-and-after pictures are essential. You can publish or not, but you will want/need them.
Have fun doing it — it’s a great birthday present to yourself.
I look forward to seeing the final product.
Happy birthday!
Wow, that’s great! 40 is about decision-making, too! Glad you have a task-master helping drive this.
I turned 40 in April. (I still can’t believe it.)
But you are right ON with what “should” happen for a woman when she turns 40. And I would be right there with you if I wasn’t living in the heart of Los Angeles. It’s difficult coming to terms with my 40-year-old self when I’m amongst the beautiful people. I pass them every day (and feel much older on the outside because I’m not 5′8″, skinny as a bean, and wearing heels).
That said? I think you need to celebrate your panicked psyche. Painting the walls is good exercise. You can always paint over the walls with another color if you don’t the first one. What’s to lose? What’s to gain?
Go for broke.