That Nick Olsen. Dang. He just blogged about this store Schoolhouse Electric Co. that has dozens of Art Deco shades I could get for my overhead lighting in the hallway. My pal who used to run the architectural salvage place in Seattle, Earthwise, ran off before she sent me the light fixtures we'd picked out. They look like the one above.

But now I have all these to choose from. Help!

Uh oh. I was looking at $2K retro fridges and ran into this $3,500 Northstar stove. The Germinatrix has one of their refrigerators with the freezer in the bottom. Anybody know anything about their stoves?

Okay, let's leave half-women and half-beasts alone for a minute and return to the kitchen. Here's what it looks like now.

First the ugly wide shots:

And built-in cabinets, which will stay:

A neighbor stripped his cabinet doors and said I could have them. Would you go that route or try to install new glass front cabinets or foofy curtains instead?

I plan to put a colorful SMEG (tee hee) or Big Chill refrigerator in that nook between cabinets. I think SMEG (gosh I can hardly say that) is Italian and likely to come in the right size. But I wonder if they work in the US. Anybody know?

Calling all people obsessed with antlers. Here's a painting by artist Drew Curtis from his series of women with antlers. I love how cartoon-y these are. The artist has a new comic coming out soon called "Urchin Row." From the few panels I've seen, I think he might be over antlerwomen, but maybe I could get him to do treewomen or something for my tree wall.

I walked out of this restaurant called Freeman's and ran into this discarded mini black refrigerator on its back. I had a mind to put a glass top on it and call it a table. Don't worry, I didn't do it...

I won't have a dishwasher--unless, of course, I find a paramour in the next few months--but I will have a nice, new (or old) apron front, farmhouse sink in my new kitchen. I'm sort of keen on this sort with the built-in dish-drain. But I also like the simple rectangular kind. People say you should look for a fireclay sink if you can afford it. I can't, but I'm looking. Anyway, President Bush's promised $800 refund has to go somewhere.


I had my heart set on a double sink so I could use one for dirty dishes and the other to wash. But Susan Serra says I ought to look at singles. What do you think?

I'm over Tommy Tunes. He might be annoying, but he's not dangerous. Another set of noisy pipes has me actually worried.

The radiators in my apartment have always made a clanking, hissing sound when they go on at 5 am. But in the past few weeks, they started making a god-awful moaning that sound like a bomb-about to go off. The place is either haunted or there's seriously something wrong with the valves. I'll have to set up the recorder to catch the sound for you, but for now you'll have to use your imagination.

I wish there were a Car Talk for your home. Since there's not, I'll ask you.

Qu'est-ce que c'est?

If you've ever lived in an apartment raise your hand. If you've ever had a conversation about the noise your neighbors make, raise your hand. Just as I suspected. Almost every last one of you. I suspect city dwellers such as myself spend a good portion of our waking (and sleeping) life thinking about our neighbors.

I grew up in the suburbs falling asleep to the sound of 18-wheelers on the interstate highway. It was soothing. You heard your neighbor's dog more than your neighbors in that neck of the woods. Then I moved to San Francisco where I had a teenager next door who was learning to play the saxophone... Even that was nice.

Now I have a musician in my vicinity again. This time it's a Broadway singer. He plays the piano and, well, sings. Sometimes the same phrase over and over and over again. "Oh, you mean Tommy Tunes" another neighbor says when I ask if he's heard this guy practicing late at night. Ah, Tommy Tunes. Sometimes I'm this close to losing it when Tommy plays. Like the time he ruined my concentration and I got creamed at Scrabble (never mind my opponent's uncanny ability to repeatedly get 40 points in one turn off several two-letter words).

I try to be Zen about it, but the singing is unpredictable. Sure it's a little quaint--where else but New York might one have such a neighbor. But it's also vaguely creepy--think Rear Window. And I can't exactly ask him to turn it down. What's a girl to do?

I'll do a little video about the process, but here's the final tree! Mielle signed it today too.

I do, as long as I have a clear shower curtain. Maybe I saw Psycho too many times. Anybody else get claustrophobic with an opaque curtain?

I hate it when I discover something cheap and entertaining that's just become extinct. Anyone know if anyone's still making the Groovetube? It's this great little device you put over your TV to turn it into a pretty Saturday Night Fever light box...

I was in Seattle for Thanksgiving and my pals at my mother's kitchen and notmartha told me I should read Gluten Free Girl. I was like, sheesh, I could never live without wheat. Two months later I was on Blogger where they were featuring the blog. Clicking on it, I expected to find another food blog. Instead I read Shauna's really, really, really long posts about meeting her husband online and how much she loves him. I found myself crying--it's my mother's fault I'm sentimental--and wondering, are we all susceptible to tales of romance?

What's this have to do with decorating my apartment? Nothing. And everything.

I have to deal with the kitchen in the next few months here. I've got a great sleuth on the vintage porcelain apron/farm sink, but if I did go new, what about this Domsjo one from IKEA. Kate F swears by it. It looks like this in Kate's kitchen.

I've been thinking of putting in a sink and a freestanding table/cutting board, a new floor, a new small refrigerator and that's it. Is it crazy not to do a built in countertop and backsplash? Is it crazy not to go with Kohler or some fancy brand? Any complaints about IKEA kitchens?

The Adventuress tells me muralists still put little birds and secret things in their work. Maybe Mielle will leave me a surprise. I think she should sign her work somewhere little--like Lily Pulitzer.

Day three: leaves and flowers on the tree. It's so Aubrey Beardsley. Just like I pictured it. (sotto voce Stevie Wonder: skyscrapers and everything!)

The last thing I need is seven years bad luck. So help me out here and tell me how I might go about hanging my really heavy mirrors. This one (which more than a few bar-frequenters have said they like on the floor right where it is) was up on a hook behind the sofa for months. Then one day I came home and it had fallen and was resting on the back of the sofa. Thankfully it hadn't fallen forward onto the glass coffee table. Please note Isaac's terrific hook the in the wall held, but the wire had come out of the back of the mirror. Now what am I supposed to do?

Mielle painted the trunk onto the wall today. It is perfect. Perfectly placed, perfectly painted. I'm so happy.

Something there is that doesn't love a window treatment. That something is called Scrappy in her dark apartment. But after hearing that some of my neighbors really could see into my house--the peeping toms!--and having my lack of shades blamed for my break-in by the nasty super and the nice police, I decided I had to get something to cover the living room windows. Propriety, how I loathe it.

So, over the break, Isaac hung shades in the living room--the same ones that I have in the bedroom. They cost about 30 dollars a piece at Bed Bath and Beyond. Now, before you go screaming that they don't match, please note that I am now thinking I will eventually paint the living room white again and paper one wall with the Ferm feather wallpaper. The window shades, which I can't bear to raise now that I've committed to them, remind me of palm frond fans and pick up the tree mural theme all by their lonesome. See? Oh, and they match the burlap shades for the tiny glass lamps.

We'll talk about the white elephant of a TV in the room another day.

I live in an Edward Gorey print. Or a Tim Burton movie. But just for a few days.

Mielle came today and projected the tree trunk and branches onto the wall and taped it off so she can start to paint on Friday. Djuna and Emma had fun trying to sit on the crinkly paper she used for preliminary branch stencils. I drank Bourbon in the living room and exchanged Facebook messages with an old college friend. Between shots, I, um, shot a little video of the process for everyone's edification. Look for it when the painting is complete.

The TV made it's way to the living room this weekend, thanks to Isaac. The bedroom won't look like this for long--Mielle starts to paint the tree mural tomorrow night. Stay tuned for photos of the process.