New writing desk!

I promise to talk about less domestic things at some point, but I'm still in that critical nesting-the-place-up mode.  And I just bought a desk!  Now, I did have a writing desk in my old place.  It was also my breakfast nook, dining room table and chopping block.  It served its purposes well.  It had been in my family's home as a kitchen work surface, then I adopted it when I lived in Chico (way back in '96-'99) and used it as a dining room table.  Then it lived in my kind, former roommate's family's barn for a few years while I was away at Seminary, and she kindly gifted it back, complete with little mouse teeth nibble marks when I moved into San Francisco.  That table and I had history.  I wrote a memoir of all the homes I'd lived in on it, all of my MFA papers were written there, and the novel that I finished earlier this year was entirely drafted and re-crafted there.  And given my proclivity to inanimate object loyalty (see The Blue Armchair), I felt bad about how much I wanted to part with it.  But the move was the perfect excuse.

Right before I hauled it off to Goodwill, I penned my last words on it.  Directly on it.  I wrote "Thank you for the words" on its underside as my final act of gratitude.

Of course, I was writing from under the table, so it looks a bit like a five-year-old serial killer scribbled it.  

See, I just really wanted a desk that was a...desk.  Not a kitchen table, not an eating surface, but a tried and true, dedicated writing space, preferably one with drawers so I could hide the many things that feel like clutter but serve my purposes so very well.

I looked around at a number of adorable antique/used/consignment furniture stores (way out of my price range, and seriously who needs a $6,000 desk???).  I looked online at the usual places (CB2, West Elm, Amazon even) and realized any desk I could order online looked like it was meant for merely decorative purposes, or worse, an office cubicle.  That's when I decided I really wanted a desk that was formerly loved, had stood the test of time and had a bit of story to it.  Enter Craigslist.

It took a few weeks of looking and emailing, but I finally found one today.  And it was one of the most pleasant Craigslist experiences I've ever had: everyone was available, on time, Zipcar had a car I could use, Dan helped me load it, and most of all, it's super stinking cute, and cost me a mere $50.

It's Tiffany blue, per the former owner's taste.  I too am a freak for Tiffany blue, but might have to repaint it a brickier orange color at some point if it ends up living in the front room, just to blend with the strange apocalyptic fireplace and red-brown furniture.  That's okay, I'm a freak for a brickier orange color too.

(note the worn down parts that reveal the former owner's tendency to lean to the side while typing on her laptop)

Delighted am I!  I can't wait to sit at it and pull a pen out of the drawer to script a story.  Or browse online for a similarly adorable chair.