No Blaise: Redecorating

Being an overly weird child is what led to my creative tendencies as an adult. Or, at least I’d like to think so.

Whatever stage of childhood weirdness I was going through manifested itself best in my bedroom. I’ve had my wall covered with magazine cut-outs, home-made paintings, and other interesting decorative choices.

At one point my friends and I each drew what we thought a smurf looked like and hung our creations on my wall so as to properly present them to our public.

In high school, Justin Timberlake and Ashton Kutcher watched over me as I slept in the same bed my mother had slept in as a child. By child I’m referring to the ages three-ten – at twenty-one my feet now hang off the end. My mother finds this charming and continues to remind me that I “have the best mattress in the entire house.”

See what I’m saying?

In the four years I’ve been away at school, my room has been under the creative control of my mother — a woman my sister and I sometimes consider signing up for “What Not to Wear”.

When my sister had an exchange student from Prague stay with my family last year, my mother sprang into action preparing my room for her arrival.

The decorations she chose are as follows:

One Powerpuff girl doll nailed to the wall

One Obama campaign poster

Three random circular light fixtures strewn up in different parts of the room….

Those were her only choices.

The exchange student came and went, most likely now terrified of American culture. And the decorations remained for my enjoyment when I returned for Spring break.

Moving back for the summer and knowing I was about to spend three months in this room, I knew I needed to take the decorating into my own hands.

I removed the Powerpuff girl from the wall and it was soon being torn apart by my dog. Then I pretty much just took everything else and stuffed it into garbage bags. The doll couch and odd-trinket collection of my youth had to go.

Once I did all that, I realized my room still had that quirky feel I was trying to wash out.

Don’t get me wrong; I am a very quirky person. Just not in the way my room would lead you to believe.

My room — sigh….

There are just some things about my room I’ll never be able to change.

Like it being shaped like a barn.

Or the lime-green walls. A color my mother decided to paint it years ago while I was gone for a week at sleep-away camp.

Surprise!

By No Blaise

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