My-Space

So I'm addicted to myspace, facebook, linkedin, etc. It goes hand and hand with my addiction to reality tv. I like to watch the world, as it is, with all of its flaws and beauty, good and bad.

With as much as I like the truth in everything and everyone else, when it comes to MY space, I'm not so truthful.

I laughed with my friend Keith a year or so ago when they were coming over to our place and I said, "ok well I need about a half hour to make my apartment look like you think it looks all of the time." This means, tidy up, clean up, throw things in the oven, dishwasher, dryer or closet that I don't have time to put in its proper place, light a candle, lint roll the furniture make sure the guest bath has t.p. and sit on the sofa and open that book (I've been meaning to start) in the middle so it looks like this is my daily life.

Maybe its because I was raised by a family who liked to entertain, a mother who always made me pick up before the cleaning lady came, and two grandmothers whos homes were always perfect, smelled like cookies, fresh flowers, detergent, crystal light and pecans. (It's an odd but perfect aroma.) One grandmother always had the guest bathroom toilet paper folded into a triangle and one always had either gardening gloves, a sun hat or an apron on.

Regardless, it's very important to me that when I have guests in my home, they are not greeted by the day to day chaos in which we live. They are instead greeted with a tidy, organized home, well dressed and groomed hosts, well behaved and trained pets, and loads of natural light.

Um...anyone who knows me is laughing right about now.

Because the reality is, my side of the room is always cleaner than my bfs, the floors will never be that clean, my dog will probably jump up on you, you'll know the smell is only from the bath and body works plug in, there are always nose and paw prints on the windows, clutter on the coffee table and crap on the dryer. Pretty much the only thing that meets my standards is the guest bathroom.

I tease my bf by telling him the reason I always like to have people over is because thats the only time that the house is clean!

I wish I could chill out and relax and let you see me the way I truly am. Because, afterall, I'm inviting you into MY space, MY home...not a catalog. Maybe one day I'll live up to my own expectations, or maybe I'll let you see the real me. Either would be an accomplishment