Sounds like a band name, doesn't it?
When mr. a-go-go and I picked up the application for the new apartment, we knew it involved a "No Paint" rule. Looking at the textured white walls I thought to myself, I can live with this. I even kinda thought it in a smug kind of way. Sure the walls were white and I'm used to color but how else is a girl to know if she is growing up if she can't accept a challenge such as white walls. I thought of it as a design challenge and I thought it would be easy to embrace. I mean, just look at all the pretty white walls you see on Decor8 and such. It was time, I thought to myself to channel the Swedish side of my genes and embrace those white, white walls.
Of course, once I announced the new digs, the first thing everyone, and I do mean EVERYONE, asked me was what color I was going to paint the walls (I know there are far too many commas there, ugh). And again I thought, wait till I show them how awesome I can be with white walls. Then, mr. a-go-go and I did the walk-through on the morning of the move in. Our landlords do not live locally so scheduling was a bit wonky there and we noticed that the white walls were not simply white walls but rather a conglomeration of white paint on happily textured walls. It seemed that our landlords did not afford the idea that they should repaint and we being nice and already a tad bit too demanding told them that while we thought the rainbow collection of whites and not-quite white spots that dilly-dallied all about the now spackled over holes was less than appealing, we would not ask them to repaint but we wanted to make note and well, makes LOTS of notes about the mottledness of it all. Nevermind all the other notes we took, man I hope they don't regret renting to us.
Now that we're moving in and choosing paint colors for furniture I have found that i am not of fan of the specific white that covers the walls in the bedroom. It may or may not be the same color in the rest of the tiny casa but having painted the bed a pastel jade that lends itself to a wee bit of blue I have found that the bedroom walls look a bit like cement. not quite white but not grey and rally not even blue. And if there were any more spackled bits, the walls could be considered polka-dotted.
Wow, can I whine just a little bit more? What I intend by writing this all down is how smug one can feel and how white is not white is not white. Also, man oh man am I just happy we have a place to call our own. We lucked out we did, even after the decade of being tenant spoiled in the old tiny casa we feel lucky and excited to begin this new adventure. The mottled walls are walls that hold up the roof over our heads and the whole kit and caboodle keeps us safe from the elements of our spoiled California weather. Sure we are neighbors with HWY 1 and our bathroom window looks into what could be considered a frat house and it seems a gopher has claimed the back would-be garden for its own but the paper lanterns are coming out and lights are being plugged in and once I learn how to light the darn Dixie there will be baked goods and home cooked meals to keep our bellies happy. Have I told you how lucky we are?