So this is definitely final countdown time. Three weeks till Hill gets back from Texas. (He called and wanted to know if I would look up gay bars in Amarillo fricking Texas online for him. The boy is not overendowed with common sense.) Friends have been consulted about power tools, blogs have been perused (interior designing! organic roof gardening! make your own chandelier out of nothing but tin cans and dental floss!) and plans have been made and made and remade. I have at least two sculptures waiting to be made when we have eveything put together, so I won't lack for things to do.

I probably won't end up stenciling this wonderful ornate penis pattern onto my bedroom floor. But let a girl dream, won't you?

Scared wouldn't be the right word to describe how I'm feeling about this. I'm uneasy and a little worried- especially about whether Hill and I can live together as well as work together, and whether or not we'll actually build everything we said we would. I can easily see us sitting in a filthy living room, picking building materials out of our food and bickering about who's turn it is to change the cardboard that we've used to patch the roof leaks. I do not want this scenario to happen.

But I am ready for this. Lord, I am ready. It's gotten to the point where I need space for myself as much as I need food every day- I feel the lack of it like a chronic ache that you learn to live with but wouldn't it be nice if you could get out of bed without making sure that your spine is aligned just so? I need to have a table I can fuck up if I want to, a kitchen I can cook whatever I want to in it, a work space I can spread out in with impunity- and without flatmates (god bless their souls) who'll give me the stinkeye if I do.

Meanwhile I'll go look at clothes that I would totally make if I had a decent sewing table/cloth stores in my vicinity. This is a lovely site for that and also this one. There might just be some sort of self-indulgent fashion post in the future, who knows? Stay tuned!