I keep calling Henry “My Little Saul Berenson” and he is not thrilled about it. [SHOUT OUT TO MY HOMELAND-WATCHING FRIEND(S).]
I finally got Henry to hang up the swag lamp that we bought on a really volatile day last July. We’re in the process of turning this one side of our bedroom into a painting nook so that I can stop standing at the kitchen sink when I paint because that’s where my “art studio” currently is. Fake artists have fake studios. It’s cool, though. My back enjoys being stooped.
And when I say we’re “in the process” I mean that I told Henry that’s what I want to do and can we please paint the wall and hang up pictures of all of my favorite bands? You know, for inspiration? OMG GREAT THANKS!
(He is still barking a hearty NO to my GOLD CEILING requests. He can just go fuck right off.)
Our Xmas tree is coming along nicely! I have tentatively named her Trudy. A few more coats and then she can be dressed in tinsel and lights. It might seem ridiculous, but having her in the house makes me feel like A PIECE OF ME HAS BEEN PUT IN PLACE. I have wanted this for nearly 20 years!
I’m glad that Henry goes along with all of my ideas and demands. EXCEPT FOR THE GOLD CEILING. God, he’s the worst.
HOW THE FUCK DID I MISS THIS POST?!?! Omg DYING. Henry and Saul!!!!!!!!!!!! The resemblance. OMG DYING DYING DYING.
You give me so much ammunition.