you can play the game / you can act out the part / but you know it wasn't written for you

I have to preface this by saying that Becca gave me permission to post it!

I had a dream last night that I went with Becca to her dad's house. From all the stories I have heard, I must have a low opinion of her dad. There were four children under the age of two, the place was a pigsty, and there was nothing to eat. I relayed this to Becca this morning, who responded "that's pretty accurate," with a laugh. The only difference was that I felt like I was in a mobile home, sort of like the one my grandmother used to have at Myrtle Beach. And Becca's dad definitely doesn't live in a mobile home.

Anyway. That was my weird dream. If you are a member of Becca's family, don't kill me. :)

The older I get, the more I like to people watch. One of my favorite things about big cities like New York is that you can walk down quiet streets and look into people's homes. I know that sounds creepy and stalker-ish, but bear with me. Sometimes they'll be getting ready for dinner, or working on the computer, or walking out the door. Sometimes they're not even home, and in that case, I just look at how they've decorated.

Lately, I have been wanting my own house. not for the permanence of it, or for the tax benefits, or for the yard...but for the decoration potential. I want to paint my walls and have perfect spaces for my knick-knacks. Much of the time, I people watch and look in windows simply because I love seeing what people do with the space they live in. It's a rare occurance in Houston for me to do anything like that, especially living in an apartment complex. But last night as I was walking back from the mailbox in the dark, I saw an apartment that was brightly lit, blinds still open. One room had a pink glow, another was light blue. I wondered if they were using colored light bulbs or something to make everything look so calm and pretty. In any case, it all looked so inviting that I walked out-of-the-way to get a closer look.

And then it hit me. They painted their walls! Painted! They did that thing that the complex management told me a year ago that I couldn't do!

That's it. I'm painting. I can't decide whether to ask permission first or not. If I ask and they say no, then I'm knowingly violating something, which is probably not the best idea. But if I do it without asking... I need to find the copy of my lease so I can look and see if it says anything specific. I'm willing to lose my security deposit, or at the least, paint the walls back when I'm done. I just want to paint. I can't really explain it, but I want to paint!

So now I'm trying to think of colors. Maybe a yellow for the living room. Hmm. We shall see!