A Transformation

I remember when I first saw my new bedroom in my new house. It was in short, a pink nightmare. Perfect for a preteen but hardly compatible for a college student. I envisioned the cathedral ceilings in shades of white and with white curtains and a black and white comforter that would be warm in the winter but cool in the summer. I envisioned my new room to be a fairytale bedroom that would be completely comforting and would not look as if Hannah Montana lives in it. The shade was atrocious; Shy Little Piglet plastered the walls.

Then I set about working on the room, watching my mom and sister paint and eventually painting the ceiling with a roller that would not lock when it was extended. I painted it two shades of gray: Thin Ice and Secret Passage from Olympic Paints. Suddenly, the room seemed calmer, more peaceful, and then I looked at it and said, "It looks like concrete!"

After I got over the initial shock of a concrete bedroom, I had to deal with the french windows and the broken blinds and the "Marey Christmas" written on the panes of glass in green crayola and the "C me write" scribbled on the back of the door in black Sharpie.

Suddenly I was in over my head. I still slept in the guest bedroom. I accepted the fact that my twin bed was now too small for Ringo and me. I bought a full-size duvet and begged for another full bed to go into my room. Then I still couldn't sleep in the room-the wooden blinds were broken and warped with moisture. The solution: a black curtain from Target and an Audrey Hepburn photograph.

Ringo likes it. I like it. It's not finished completely, but it's a start and I can sleep on 200 thread-count sheets.