The Economics of Furniture Assemblage
One day, I will be upper-middle class enough, and live in an area urban enough to buy furniture that is delivered to my abode in one single piece. That day is not yet here, unfortunately. Until then (and it may well be a long, long time), I'll soldier on, buying shit that looks pretty on the internet and comes to me in flat boxes, the prettiness of which renders me amnesiac about the horrors of making what is flat and in boxes three dimensional and architecturally sound, if not always a direct match for the picture. Such was my most recent purchase, whose assembly required these things:
19 pieces of wood
15 threaded long bolts
15 hex nuts
32 short screws
24 long screws
6 short bolts
6 lock washers
6 flat washers
1 screwdriver
1 electric screw driver
2 blankets (to protect the floors)
4 hours
1 sexual favor for husband
1 bottle of cabernet
15 songs of the 80's on an iPod playlist
6 "snap in place" hinges
1 bruised hand ("snap in" my ass)
5 very sincere prayers to Higher Power
approx. 27,582 vile curses
All of that, my friends, for this:
It may very well fit all of my sad neglected glassware, which has been sitting in the basement since I moved into Chez Fluff. It may also fit my grandmother's silver, which is---attention thieves!---wrapped in an old t-shirt in my closet. Best of all, it's the new home to the bar which will allow Senor Fluff and I to live out our most cherished Thin Man fantasies (which are legion).
It may be voodoo economics, but I've got to start somewhere.
19 pieces of wood
15 threaded long bolts
15 hex nuts
32 short screws
24 long screws
6 short bolts
6 lock washers
6 flat washers
1 screwdriver
1 electric screw driver
2 blankets (to protect the floors)
4 hours
1 sexual favor for husband
1 bottle of cabernet
15 songs of the 80's on an iPod playlist
6 "snap in place" hinges
1 bruised hand ("snap in" my ass)
5 very sincere prayers to Higher Power
approx. 27,582 vile curses
All of that, my friends, for this:
It may very well fit all of my sad neglected glassware, which has been sitting in the basement since I moved into Chez Fluff. It may also fit my grandmother's silver, which is---attention thieves!---wrapped in an old t-shirt in my closet. Best of all, it's the new home to the bar which will allow Senor Fluff and I to live out our most cherished Thin Man fantasies (which are legion).
It may be voodoo economics, but I've got to start somewhere.
Labels: nesting
posted by kfluff at 7:19 PM
5 Comments:
Oh, but it's soooo pretty. Can I inhabit your Thin Man fantasies with you? I'll be Asta.
Ve-ry nice! I approve. And also want to play Nick and Nora drinking games.
BTW, you aren't going to that big lit conference in the city everyone leaves their hearts in, are you?
'Cause I'm thinkin' we could do some drinkin', and get together a blogger meetup.
Ash--You may, of course, be Asta. In fact, that's a much nicer nickname that "Ash", right?
Sis--come on down for N&N action! I'm not going to said conference, sadly, because I'd love to hang wit you! How about the conference to be held in post-Katrina land? You aren't headed there, are you?
I didn't even know they let wild and crazy rumpusers into that place anymore! Wasn't the MLA unable to have their convention there and had to move it at the last minute?
Sadly, no, I don't have any stuff to present that's like that nor money to travel. (I can stay at my parents' house --- god that sounds so college dropout slacker --- instead of get a hotel at that other place)
And I've got stuff in fall that will prevent me from going to that other nice place in the southwest.
Sigh. It was not meant to be --- we shall have to have a virtual drinking circle.
I'm getting the wine now.
I love that!
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