Starting over

I'm not exactly starting from scratch here, but this whole business of d.i.v.o.r.c.e. means that I've got to go back into a stage of my life I've never exactly been thrilled about: material acquisition.

Seeing as I've got myself a nice small loft, albeit with big closets, I can't have all *that much* stuff. But there is a kitchen and there is a bathroom, and I've got pretty much got to start over on a lot of that business. I do have china for four, which is probably sufficient, but that's pretty much it.

So I've started shopping. I partially solved the kitchen problem by buying a set of Calphalon One pots and pans. And I've outfitted the bathroom. But then, there is ever so much more:

A bed. I already know what I'm going to do about the frame (that sleigh bed, or as S2 calls it, "a love sled"), but I absolutely *loathe* shopping for mattresses. It's like buying a used car. Cheesy salesmen, weird pitches and absolutely no way to tell one mattress from the next thanks to the fact that Sealy and Simmons and every other goddamned mattress manufacturer changes the name of the mattresses for its retailers so you can never actually compare price. *whining*

A desk and a chair for said desk. XGF has offered, however, to *trade* me the desk we currently have in exchange for $3,000. Too bad for her that I bought this desk just six months ago and recall paying about $250 for it. C'mon! I ain't be goot at math, but I's also ain't be stupid.

Some kind of tall and wide and highly functional -- yet beautiful and unusual (read: fuck Ikea) -- wall cabinet to house my TV, books and knicknackery-haberdachery-do. I expect I could be looking for this fo-evuh, given my -- oh, let's just call it what it is: bitchy -- attitude about simulacra.

Wine glasses and kitchen linens and silver wear and cooking utensils and knives and hot pads and cookie sheets or whatever the hell -- some kind of something or other for putting things in the oven anyway. ... Does it *sound* like I'm gonna learn how to cook? Yessa, massa. I *will* be taking care of myself this go-around, considering I cannot afford to hire a woman to cook for me like I did before I met XGF. ... Paging Williams-Sonoma, stat!

An area rug or two, plus a runner. Gotta do something to take the edge off the echo of the pup, Brogan, as he warns me about a crow on the roof of the house across the street.

Some kind of skinny entry hall table? (Maybe I already have that.)

A garbage can.

Shelving for the pantry and a closet. (If there were an Ikea nearby, I'd go for this stuff.)

Something to put my unmentionables in. (Isn't it funny how the word "unmentionable" actually goes about mentioning the unmentionable things anyway?)

And I *think* I might like to have one more arm chair. But maybe not.

It's hard to say what the space will be like once all this crap in in there. Clutter, I cannot stand. (And I have been living in a somewhat cluttered environment for years.) There must be openness and space and the feeling like I haven't gone and created a landfill. ... For all the stuff I need to buy, I'm beginning to wonder just what the hell it is I'm moving? Two chairs. And end table. A small cabinet. The dining table set. And several pieces of artwork.

Here's my opportunity to start living a little lighter. And what do I do? Go shopping! ... Really, if you want to know why ... I consider it my patriotic doody.