Apartment Therapy

I am not sure if I should thank my friend Jessi for introducing me to the blog Apartment Therapy or if I should blame her for getting me hooked onto another blog with amazing decorating and cooking ideas. Either way, I have wasted away my entire morning and much of my afternoon searching through the site and I am now sufficiently jealous of anyone who:

1. Owns their own place, allowing them to have free reign over their decorating abilities. I am stuck adhering to apartment rules and temporary designs.

2. Lives in the suburbs and has SPACE. My 850 square foot apartment can’t hold all of my creative ideas, much less the products of those ideas and inspirations

3. Has more than a small desk and a sewing machine to create amazing works of art. I am still trying to figure out how to bring more “craft supplies” into the apartment without Matt noticing.

Here are a few of my favorite things from Apartment Therapy:

If only I had a garage with a work bench. Matt has it in his head that when we register for wedding gifts he is going to get all sorts of sweet tools. Considering that we live in NYC, and most likely will live there for at least 5-6 more years, I think tools and a workbench are out of the question! However, I am willing to let him register for them and store them for that length of time if he promises to make me this!

Honestly, who wouldn’t want an all pink kitchen? It would be like living in the Barbie Dream House!

This reminds me of the forts that Abby and I used to make out of blankets in our living room – only it is the grown-up version. I still think that I should move to Africa so I can justify hanging a mosquito next over my bed (which I did in middle school). In my mind, the more things you can do to make your bed resemble a cocoon, the better.

I can not imagine having this playhouse in my backyard. Not only is it bigger than my apartment, but it is in a tree! My father promised to build Abby and I a treehouse when we moved to our “new” house when I was 4 years old. My parents still live in that house, and there is still no treehouse. Adding to the list of things my dad promised but never delivered on: tire swing, sky light for Abby’s room and swimming pool… Ok, I don’t think he promised the last one, but Abby and I REALLY wanted a swimming pool (like we didn’t spend enough time swimming without one!) We found a solution to this problem by filling a huge plastic trashcan with water from the hose and “swim around” in it. The water never got above 65 degrees and you couldn’t do anything besides dunk your body. For some reason, we thought this was a good substitute for a pool (clearly Abby and I were very “special” growing up).

Anyway, I would like to cash in on my father’s promise of a treehouse. I have a nice spot picked out in Central Park, so Dad, whenever you are available please bring your tools to NYC and get started!

2 thoughts on “Apartment Therapy

  1. trash can dunking? sounds like something I should be doing this summer since I can’t afford a vacation. You Brethauer girls have the best ideas! (sarcasm)

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