Rock the Shock, Home Decor for the Daring

It's time for deep purple hair, me thinks. I like to change it up a bit. They're temporary colours, and I love lots of colour in just about everything. Red is a favourite of mine, and only partially because it's the only colour that ferrets can see. It's bright, it's bold, and I like to think it's a lot like me. Still, red is limited since it's only one colour. I'm fascinated by prismatic effects, whether it's an oil spill in a puddle, light shining through cut crystal, or the back of a compact disc. I have plans for my home when I finally have it put up, and colour is something that will be involved.

Oddly, my tastes are really simple. I'm not into fussy fabric patterns and lots of knickknacks. I prefer very clean lines in the furniture itself. I love themes in decorating, though. I love belly dancing, which comes from all over the middle east and Egypt. I like to incorporate the feel of that into rooms, as well as Asian-style stuff. My daydreams for a house have been the same for a long time. Black Asian screen-style wall panelling, with red rice paper rather than white, dramatic black and red. Pool table in black with red felt. Open-concept moving into the kitchen area, which has modern black or stainless appliances - thank God they finally coated the stainless to almost eliminate finger-print smudging.

Home theatre and living area, with large pocket doors to close it off from the rest of the open-concept area when watching action movies in 9.1 surround, or whatever it will be by the time I finally get there. And floors that look like the 'rainbow bridge' at Asgard in the movie Thor, flashing, rippling lights and all. That part is probably a fantasy, since I'm still trying to work out how to do that. I mean, how would I change the bulbs when they eventually died? Sure, LED lasts a while, but not forever. I'm not replacing my floor for a burnt bulb.

Ah, now we come to the bedroom. A whole different world in here. Almost literally. The walls are reminiscent of the blocks used to build the pyramids. The bed is a giant four-poster with wooden canopy, built right in, up on a dais with a step - inside which I will store my shoes. I've designed the bed, actually. I've built furniture pieces before, and boy, when I build something it's damn hard to break it down after. Just ask anyone I know who's had to dismantle one of my projects later.

I'm not sure if I want a king-size bed. I'm 5'5" and not real big either, except for the chest region, so it's not a requirement for me, and a queen is tall enough for most men, assuming there comes a day when that's a concern. That's also assuming any man will want to live in this dream of mine. After all, there's got to be a bit of give and take, doesn't there? Back to the bed, though. The one I designed is plotted out as a queen-size, listing all the building materials I'll need for the project. The fabrics on the bed will be the only area in the room with real colour. Shades of India in jewel-toned purple, turquoise, red and gold. Just that one piece of flash and colour for the exotic, harem-like atmosphere, while leaving the rest of the room soothing, with the occasional hieroglyph patterning the walls on the stone-like surface.

Walk-in closet, despite the fact that I'm the farthest thing from being a clothes-horse. I couldn't care less if I wore anything other than pyjamas most days. Alas, that can not always be the case, so I'd prefer to keep the clothes in their own separate room where I can close the door on my sloppy nature. More shoe storage, too. I do like shoes. I'm ashamed to admit I'm very female there. I love buckle- and lace-up boots, the occasional hooker heels (both in boots and shoes), platform clogs, and pirate boots. I used to have a couple of really awesome pairs of cowboy boots, too, which I miss a great deal. My pant-legs went over the boots, though, not inside like the weird women you see in bars, line-dancing, and the men they call "Eastern Cowboys" in the west. Yes, it is said with much derision.

En suite bath is a must. I got used to having two bathrooms, and living in apartments has been a bit of a culture shock for me. Separate tub and shower, I think. Toilet partitioned off a bit from the counter to create the illusion of privacy. The partition I imagine will be acrylic block, internally lit. Another lighting thing I'm working out the details on. I will not be using natural stone in the bathroom, unless I intend to pay a cleaning lady for the rest of my life. If you've ever had to clean anything that was stone, you'll know why. Granite for counters and flooring is different. You treat the stone once a year, and you're done with it. Bathrooms are already a hideous place to clean.

Back in the bedroom, opposite the bed there is a vacuum-tube elevator that takes me to my office. It's not a loft, but close. Everything built-in in this room as well. With the exception of emergency ladder access, the only way in is through the elevator in my bedroom. The house's security system is kept here, in temperature-controlled cabinets for the server and other components. I have access to the system in every room of the house, all media is stored on the system, with no external access.

This will be where I spew my creative visions, so the room will be free of clutter and sound-proofed. Maybe I'll keep my Ludwig drum set up here. 9 pieces with double-bass and Zildjian cymbals. Maybe not, because a music room is a dream, too. I want another guitar, and a piano of some sort. As long as it has touch-sensitive keys and a full keyboard I'm happy there. Yeah, a room off the garage is better for that. Plenty of room for all the toys, then. A music room needs a computer these days for mixing down tracks.

And, yes, absolutely, a really good microphone. Some of you may know that I really can sing, but some have only heard me when I was drunk enough to get up in front of people - which is when I sound like a cat gargling a cannoli and can't remember any of the words. It's not a good sound,  except perhaps to a horny cat.

Maybe one day I will exhibit the courage to stand in front of a crowd of people and sing my heart and lungs out. As I get older I care less and less about making a fool out of myself when there's no emotional risk involved, so it's definitely possible. I've had someone giving me lots of encouragement recently, who has actually heard me sing without alcohol being a factor. Interestingly, he gives me a lot of encouragement with pretty much everything. There aren't many men you can say that about.

So many dreams, so little time. It doesn't matter. As long as I have the dreams, then everything is worthwhile. You know, yada yada, it's not the destination, it's the journey, blah, blah. Platitudes, but occasionally true. I'm sure everyone could detect the eye-roll in there.

You know, I have to wonder, if there is someone willing to share such dreams with me, or similar ones, how inclined he would be to do so once he learned my destination for today. Today is Doomsday for little man Pepper and his manly essence. He will be brought home little boy Pepper. I have no idea how long it will take to render him a eunuch. Poor baby. I actually hate having to do it, but there's no choice in the matter. I wonder if he will ever forgive me.