Behold the beautiful green couch which of course was out of stock so I had to order it online. I remain hopeful that one day it will arrive.
In case you were wondering, the quintessential “grandma couch” from the 1970s was inspired by a renewed interest in prairie revival decor, and nostalgia for farm life. Avocado and gold were in. Patterned upholstery was in vogue. Advanced technology made the fabric virtually indestructible.
Loyal readers may have been expecting an in-depth discussion of my experiences with the tragi-comedy that is law school job recruiting, but recent events have reminded us that we should be careful about what we post on the internet. So, I’m gonna talk about couches instead.
If this law school thing doesn’t work out, perhaps I could turn this into a lifestyle blog, except for people who are cheap and lazy (ie me). I have advice on cleaning! And recipes. And also furniture purchases and home design. Seriously, I am so domestic–someone should hurry up and give me a TV show on HGTV already, which I could then translate into a mid-priced home goods line at Target. There would be lots of dinosaurs and succulents. It would be super trendy.
But wait, you inquire, what’s up with the couch? You’re thinking, “I thought you already had a couch. You didn’t move, did you?” There were indeed two couches in the apartment when I moved in. I hesitate to say I “owned” them, because, in truth, the provenance of the original couches was unknown: they had been present at least 3 roommates before me, handed down in the inimitable grad student fashion, born out of an equal mix of laziness and charitableness. You all know how I feel about Property Law–were the couches abandoned, mislaid, or lost? Unclear at this point, but it doesn’t really matter, because they are gone.
The loss of the couches began when my new roommate moved in. She had a beautiful brown fabric couch, mid-century modern. So now we had 3 couches. And the ideal number of couches for the dark cave which I inhabit is exactly 2. The beautiful brown couch unquestionably had to stay. And we could have just gotten rid of one of the hideous couches. But every time I saw the beautiful brown couch, I was hit with a wave of longing–the world was once again full of possibility, by which I mean couches that were not hideous and black floral-patterned and falling apart. If we were going to go through the whole process of couch removal, might as well do it right: with one fell swoop, the hideous couches could both be gone.
One of the great things about capitalism is that you can exchange money for goods and services. With the great power of the interwebs, I was able to find a company that would come and remove the couches for me. Was it way more money than it should have cost? You betcha. Was it awesome? Yes. They came on time, and within 30 minutes had hauled the hideous couches down the stairs (since they didn’t fit in the elevator) and put them in a truck, to be properly (and environmentally consciously!) disposed of. Those guys were great.
The next step in my quest was to go acquire a new couch. I’m a big fan of the interwebs, but the thing about furniture is that it’s nice to actually sit in it before you buy it. I had scoured the usual cheap furniture sources– Ikea, Target, and Cost Plus World Market. Wayfair I was skeptical of because they don’t have a physical store. I spend a lot of time on my couch, so wanted one that was comfortable. I seriously considered getting another Ektorp sofa, a modestly-priced, eminently practical model, which I had had in Madison, and which served me well. But I decided that if I was going to go through the trouble of removing my hideous old couches, I might as well spring for something stylish and impractical, because the whole purpose of this couch-buying endeavor was to get some aesthetic beauty back into my life. I narrowed it down to two options–one was sage green, the other a darker emerald. And luckily, Cost Plus World Market was having a sale on furniture, 30% off. Which made it easier to justify the purchase of a ridiculous green couch. And even luckier, my parents were also in town Labor Day Weekend. There was a good chance that not only a new couch, but a new, parentally-subsidized couch, would be on the horizon.
So off we went to World Market, which is in Oakland. And lo, there was my couch! And it was emerald green. And made of a faux-velvet material. With golden legs. 100% over the top and ridiculous and impractical AND ON SALE. Only trouble was, it was out of stock. I comforted myself by picking out some complementary throw pillows (because a thing about being in your mid-twenties is that you really get to appreciate some good throw pillows). After some wrangling with the store associates, we realized that it was unclear if, when, or how, someone was going to be able to sell us this couch. But thanks to the interwebs, we bought it online. It should come at some point in the near future. Will it actually arrive? Who knows. Will we be able to get it through the door? Not sure–I have seen 3 couches move in and out of the apartment in the past few weeks, so I have faith that it is possible. I am cautiously optimistic that some day soon this lovely new couch with the matching pillows arrive. I’m pretty sure it’s going to be life-changing.
In Case You Were Wondering. . . 
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