The Quest for a Niche to call Nest

Weensy Whimsical Birdland Pincushion,  available in my etsy

For whatever cause or coincidence, it seems that I have completed a full-cycle that spans over a decade. I stepped out of mom & pop’s in 1999 to go to the university, and haven’t really been home since. Until recently.  Somehow life has strange ways of making you go on an "experience seeking and character building" adventures and taking you back to where it all began. I stand on the very brink of one of the most crucial moments of my life where drastic changes take place. I have made my choices. Quit my job and simultaneously ended a romantic relationship. Whether it was the right move or not, could only be judged in much later years. I am mentally and emotionally exhausted. However, I will not regret. Hey I think, it was also physically apparent, but I am still in-denial on this one, praise God for good concealer, sparkly yellow eyeliner, and bright colored bits and pieces in my closet! *cueing myself to cut the doom gloom*

I have baggage. And I carry the ever-growing burden everywhere without reluctance. It was “moved by de facto” if the last box of books is emptied. I automatically go into reminiscing-mode every time I  do this, and why the hell I have to leaf through my favorites once again and divided book by their binding methods, type, and size. Cause by a strange mixture of flightiness and acquired habit from my bookstore stint (and yes, I still squint and squirm at the very sight of a misplaced book, and often failed to stop squaring away book stacks). 

Since I’ve been away so long, people tend to put whose-what-why-stuffs in my old room and so the books were sadly placed in wherever possible shelves, nooks, and crannies. I just realized that my room is overly outdated and odd in a way that it no longer served my needs. Prolly why I never really get comfy in it and tend to sleep in my sister’s. It just doesn’t feel like ‘mine’. Alien and pristine with no personality. So I proposed a project to the presiding queen of the realm.....

But first, let me paint you a picture….

I got the interior-itch in my college days, along with my other ‘creative’ tendencies. Like a full grown alpha male that mark their territory, I started to define myself loud and proud (not by producing a specific-funky-smelling liquid excretory product of course).  Luckily I am blessed with pre-encrypted domestic divinity genes. The fashion altering, make up applying, and interior decorating intent came naturally without me really learning how. Unfortunately we do stuffs as differently as our personal taste. Oh, it’s the ever-brewing. Go smell and spell (cue: starts with a big ass T, Elvis sang this number in King Creole)

Come see the fruits and feats of my exploits in décor.

I couldn’t find decent enough pictures of all of my previous dwellings, guess I never really intended to actually show and tell. I wish I take more pics just to see how much things have changed and all...

Shameful as it was, here they are.....
 

Exhibit A, circa 2006-2007, or the Check My  Harley, it's Atomic 

Muscular and mannish on one pic , wearing a pallid face and weird asymmetrical what-was-I-thinking-hairdon’t on the other. Ewwwwh....

While my peers treat themselves with clothes/gadgets/shoes, I spent my very first salary on beddings (blame the gene)… Well, the landlady actually prepared the rented room complete with mattress and new sheet and all. But still, it just didn’t feel right.

Exhibit B, circa 2007-2008, or the oh-so-emo-satanist

Still clinging to the Red, Black, and White theme. The decision on painting the room red has cause me enough problems with the landlady. Found myself freaking furious and  left in a haste at the end. Looking back with my black candles, weird books, and weirder music, it was a wonder she didn't kick me out sooner.

(to be continued....)