Nesting

I thoroughly planned to hate all of man-friend's belongings and decorating style. I even plotted out how to get rid of it all discretely, but ironically enough, 'twas I with all the junk.

So. Much. Pink.

Also a lot of floral.

At least I'm consistent?

Man-friend went on a trip the day after we moved in, and I worked all weekend. In between work and assembling Ikea parts, I've run myself ragged trying to nest in this apartment, but have spent more time at TJ Maxx and Target scouting glamorous accessories like door mats, than I have just getting to know the new space.

What makes a house (or apartment in this case) a home? At what point do you stop feeling like a hoarder and give up on coordinated towels?

Turns out that the minute he returned from a weekend in the woods, we sat on the couch together and it instantly felt like it was finally ours. Towels and rugs be damned, this time, with him it what makes it all worth it. 

Wish I would've watched that after-school special before the weekend-- I'd have gotten more sleep. 

Regardless, I'm already completely smitten with Saint Paul. The smell of leaves, the quiet winding streets, and the sweet elegance that comes from seeing streets lined with historic mansions is enough to fill my tank with joy.

It's hardly been a week but I think with the dude back, and delivery Chinese food already on speed dial, I'm going to start feeling like this place is my home sooner than I think.