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2000-02-11

The walls of my office at work are completely bare. I've never been one

for decorating offices. At my last job we switched offices with ridiculous

frequency (in my eight years there I think I had six), so that's part of it, but not all of it. I feel as though I should bring things to put it, it would make it less dreary, more inviting, but I resist.

Today this woman who's good friends with the Pontificating Big Boss (PBB)

and has worked here since the beginning came by and for the second time, nagged me about not

having things on my walls. "It looks like you just got here, or you're

planning to leave," she said. "It looks like you don't love us."

Well, you know, I don't. And now I feel even less inclined to bring

anything in. I hate these fucking windowless offices. All the friends of the PBB have

been here forever so have windows. I don't really aspire to join their

ranks.

But my disinclination to decorate my office shouldn't surprise any of you, considering my disinclination to decorate this site. Am I austere or just lazy? Probably a bit of both. But once in a while I get inspired. Do you like this background? I scanned my favorite scarf. It's a silk-rayon velvet, one side this checkerboard pattern, the green more vivid than the scan indicates, the other solid black. It's very warm and luxurious.

*

Last night an architect aquaintance of B's came by to consult with us about converting our enormous unfinished attic into livable space. We've been hanging out up there when weather permits, using the rickety pull-down ladder. We're considering building a proper staircase and insulating and wiring and putting some kind of heating/cooling solution in place.

The architect thought the space showed great promise (apparently he gets lots of people wanting to finish really dinky attics and was surprised to see ours truly warrants it). He could only give the most ballpark ideas about construction costs, and B with his carpentry and cabinetmaking experience could do much of it himself, but it still looks like it's gonna cost more than we were thinking, maybe more than we want or are able want to spend. So, we'll see.

But it was nice to have someone who knows houses come in and exclaim over how cool ours is. It's really solid, built in 1940, and has a quiet charm. Buying it is one of the smarter things I've done.

You know, I really hesitated to buy a house on my own. I would certainly have preferred to buy my first house with a mate. But five years back I had no assurance a mate would ever materialize, and I was sick of looking to every guy I met wondering "Are you the ticket to my future?"

So I bought it, and was happy and sad and lonely about it. I thought owning a house would make me less attractive to men -- and it might have done so for certain kinds of men, the kind who need you to need them. But for the right kind of guy for me -- for B -- it made me more attractive. One day B was talking to the dogs and said "Your mom picked out such a good house for us!"

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