Le Studio.

You're wondering how the Studio looks?

Mom found lovely sheer curtains, for the windows. And what color are they? Beige. (You saw that coming, didn't you? Or, did you? Maybe you expected them to be a "fun" color? Or maybe they're all different colors? You weren't sure, were you?)

Then, Mom decided to get the wicker chaise lounge out of Nana's basement. In other words, Dad has to get it up the stairs, out of the house, and into his truck. Nana says, "oh, I'll clear a path, so he can get it around all of the stuff down there."

No. Of course not. When I say, "of course not", that means that Nana never got the chance. Dad saw that the thing had a cushion tied to it, so he hoisted it onto his back and shoulders, and dragged it up the stairs behind him.

So then? Mom decides to drag us all to Fortunoff for a new cushion. The one she liked came with a new chaise lounge, and they couldn't break up the set. The one Dad liked "looks like an awning" -- and those are her exact words. The one I liked didn't come in the right size. Fine. She picks out a cushion that we (Dad and I) don't like, but that we'll have to live with, for the sole reason that Mom's name is on the credit card.

So we finally get the wicker chaise lounge set up, with its new cushion. Dad sits down in it, to test it out. Cool, it's his chair. (The whole point of this chaise lounge was so he wouldn't have to sit on the floor when he read or did crossword puzzles.) Fine. So he gets up, and Mom sits down in it.

The very second she gets up, her beloved Django hops right into the chair and curls up dead center. She told me, flat out, "Don't you dare move my cat." Then, Boo fought him for it. They got tired of fighting; and Boo moved down and slept down at the foot.

I feel so very snubbed right now. And that, my friend, is not a happy feeling.