That’s fucking hilarious.

My grandmother (paternal) had “nice furniture” like that. Then she died and my family moved in and all of her nice stuff is covered with old papers and computer innards, compliments of my parents and brother. She had wonderful taste, though, and when I move out into my own apartment I think I will attempt to bring along her “davenport” (a green designer sofa with lotuses printed all over it). Considering that nobody ever uses it, preferring instead to clear papers off the same chairs they dump the papers on whenever they want to sit down, I hopefully will not have to put up too much of a fight for it.

I will, however, have to put up a fight if I want the chandelier in the dining room (stained-glass and shaped like a lotus)—despite the fact that nobody ever uses that either. And I know I will not succeed in getting the four-by-six-foot oil-on-canvas landscape that sits above the green davenport, but that’s fine because I can paint my own.

Best of all, however? Candles. My mother will not let me burn them at home, let alone incense, so I take them over to my friend’s house to use them, however the other day one of her small siblings got into her room, found her matches, and went around burning small holes in things, so her parents confiscated all the candles. Including mine. So I will be very happy to have all the candles I want, davenport or no davenport.

ok, first was “man, cat eyes always freak me out in pictures”
second was “that is a nice chair. I want one. I wonder if I can find something like that for under 100.”

Men notice the sex, women notice the furniture.

Wait a minute, am I on a feminist blog againt? Dammit!