Friday, January 16, 2009

Me and Jenna Jameson's unpaid intern

It can cost a lot to decorate a home. And after six months I’ve finally made it to the third of three rooms in my place. The bedroom.

I’m not talking about anything too serious, but my cliché urban loft motif just doesn’t match a hand-me-down floral bed spread.

We’ll just call it a bed makeover, and my bed, obviously of the female variety, was equivalent to a grandmother from the Great Plains. I’m going for something more Scarlet Johansson.

A trip to Ikea, the mecca of affordable and urban furnishings, yielded an adequate duvet cover and I headed home without even stopping for 50 cent ice cream cones or a plate of meatballs.

It’s a small room, and with a donated mirror-centric decoration hanging above my bed it seemed adequate. It wasn’t Scarlet, but it would do, and I ambled around in the evenings satisfied with the lady I would soon lie down with.

In my mind I was done, until my mom stopped by and said that a black bed skirt and sheet set would really make it my bed ‘POP.’

My sheets, although comfortable, were starting to look ragged, so I complied.

Black sheets have a stigma, but I figured if my mom, a deacon in our church, was suggesting them, then it couldn’t be too bad. I’d just be sure to stay away from satin, and I wouldn’t have anything to worry about.

Desperate for the ‘pop’ that I now felt I had been missing all along, I started a fervent internet search. I scoffed at the Playboy black satin sheets, clearly Jenna Jameson, and settled on a mysteriously low priced Egyptian cotton 600 thread count set.

They arrived a couple days later, and I eagerly opened them. From the packaging they looked about like what I wanted, when I put them on my bed I was horrified.

Scarlett had certainly eluded me, what’s worse, I’m now sleeping with Jenna’s unpaid intern.

I always included the bedroom in the tour of my place. Before I would prepare my guests by saying I haven’t gotten to my bedroom yet – now I just blush.

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