It’s been two weeks since your Dandy last updated you on the goings-on in his head.  I knew things were getting bad when the paparazzi stopped blinding me with their flashes & screaming questions like, “Is it true that you’re romantically involved with James Franco?!” as I tried to dart into Trader Joe’s for a value-sized chunk of brie & crackers.  Ok, not crackers…those almonds that are dipped in dark chocolate & rolled in turbinado sugar & sea salt.  Don’t judge me.  If you’ve ever had them, you realize perfectly well what I’m talking about.  At $3.99 a pop, I could easily deplete my 401K by buying them in bulk (pallets).

Again, I digress.  I’m sorry that I’ve been absent for so long & that you have had to suffer through the cancellation of Smash sans my southern comfort.  Or, Southern Comfort. Life is funny sometimes.  It can throw you curve balls that, as a former fat kid, have no way to prepare for, so you just stand in front of them.  Your Dandy is not immune.  I tell you this to (a) explain my absence and (b) get to the point of this installment before you move on to the next Lady Gaga cover on YouTube.  When these types of things happen to me, I process my feelings as any good Dandy would:

  1. I eat my feelings.  They are delicious; they taste like almonds dipped in dark chocolate & rolled in raw sugar & sea salt.
  2. I watch a LOT of Charmed on Netflix.  I have always felt that I was the Piper in my coven.  Ok, not so much a coven as a loosely-connected group of queens that I can count on for martinis & karaoke.  You know who you are.  (Side note: I would really like to be able to blow things up with my hands.  But, I suppose I’ll have to settle for throwing things instead.)
  3. I shop online for a sports car.  I waiver between a 350Z & a Boxster.  Then, I talk myself out of it, after considering the amount of money I have spent on almonds.  One has to be practical.
  4. I channel all of my thoughts in the most productive way possible: by obsessing about my lack of control in hurtful situations.  Or over The Situation.  And focus on what I can control.  Then shit gets really real.  And I start planning projects for the house.
  5. With my OCD raging at this point, I obsess over seemingly minor details that wouldn’t bother most people.  I fixate on things like the medicine cabinet being messy.  Who cares?  Your Dandy does.  It’s not Martha-Effing-Stewart organized, so I end up turning off Charmed at 2AM when I’m already exhausted & get to work.  By 3AM, the medicine cabinet has been re-organized & three other small projects have been accomplished.

So, here is what I have learned in the process (and what almost led to be call this post “OCD & Me”): that I can leverage this (hopefully) mild hang-up to my advantage.  Let’s be serious, I’m not having to count how many times I flip on & off a lightswitch or obsessively washing my hands until they bleed.  For me, this manifests as a need to organize & clean.  Great! I can finally make headway on projects that I have put off, like finishing painting in the kitchen, reorganizing medicine cabinets, linen closets, closets & dresser drawers.  I can make this house the home I have envisioned (I even considered chanting for the dream house, as Edina Monsoon teaches, but I have such a problem with our society’s extreme tolerance of yoga pants as casual wear, that I decided it would drive me too crazy).

Finally, here is my point: embrace your quirks.  They make you special & beautiful.  Where this journey will take me or what I will learn from it, I have no idea.  But, I’m open to it.  And, by the end of it, I will have a home that would make Martha Stewart jealous.  If she were open to buying homes in transitional neighborhoods…

Some of my latest obsessions:

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It was incredibly important that night that the products be rearranged & faced out…

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It was also of paramount concern that shelves be adjusted for uniformity & that the MOP Mixed Greens shampoo I bought online be easily accessible…

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The Herman Miller chair got moved to the bedroom. It belongs here…

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I had to hit up the new TJ Maxx in Midtown for new pillows & West Elm for a throw to protect the sofa since the dogs can’t seem to stay off of it. I think I understand what parents feel like when they reach their threshold & decide to send their disobedient children to military school. (Please pay special attention to how this throw echoes the color palette of the white walls & black Nate Berkus curtains. That was, of course, no accident).

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I had to find a use for this crate. So,now it stores towels that I totally realize the kittens will probably just sleep on.

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The silver tray on top of the dresser had to be reorganized to provide a landing zone for the things that random homes, like the shoehorn that I think is so cool (but never use), the mercury glass candle holder, the glass milk jug that I keep change in & the glass rooster that I picked up in Key West.

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A closeup for your viewing pleasure…

I once heard the phrase, “she’s so OCD that she can pick fly shit out of pepper”.  Y’all stay tuned to see if I spiral down that path.  It’s bound to make for good blogging.

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