Under the Rug (or not)

I started my new job tonight. One of the fun things about what I do to make a living is that I get to work inside people's houses. And being the naturally nosy person that I am, this is fun to me. You can really tell a lot about a person, and about their life and how they live, by looking inside their house. Often what you find will surprise you. We as humans, trying to look like we have it all together, are so obsessed with image that sometimes we sweep the strangest things up under the rug. Tonight, once again, reminded me of how stupid we are with the images we put up. It's truly pointless...

Last December I had my annual Christmas party at the apartment I lived in last school year. The day of the party, I can clearly remember going to Wal-Mart and buying curtains to hang between my living room and dining room. The reason? Because my dining room was (until the day I moved out actually) full of crap that had been thrown in there when I moved in. And I didn't want anyone to see it. I wanted my friends to think that my apartment was very neat and clean, and I wanted to look like I had it all together. Oh, the irony. Truthfully, every single one of my friends that know me at all know that I am not a neat person. Often my surroundings look quite a bit like the inside of my head. Everything is randomly placed, yet to me it is all right where it belongs. Organized messes, really. But to the outside person it probably looks like chaos. Blame it on my type b personality :)

The question is why did I try to hide who I really was? Especially from the people who knew me the best? Why do we feel like we have to have everything perfect when we have people over to our homes? Our homes tell about us. Our stuff (or lack thereof) tells about us. I have to admit, I am the most comfortable in homes that aren't very clean. I am comfortable with clutter, and I am comfortable with stuff. In these homes I feel like I don't have to put up a front, and I don't have to appear perfect. I can walk around barefoot, and I can put my feet up on the couch (or the coffee table). These places make me realize that we are all human, just the same, and none of us have it all together. It makes me more easily willing to show my weaknesses. I hope people feel like this when they come to my house.

I love that the people I started working for today didn't feel like they had to clean their house before I came over. There was dog hair on the carpet, and dishes in the sink. I got to kick off my shoes and play with Carson in the middle of the floor, and not have to worry about breaking anything or leaving fingerprints on the furniture. Our homes are for making memories, and no one will remember how shiny our hardwood floors were. I don't want to not have people over because I didn't do the dishes yesterday or clean the bathroom last week. It's more important to me that my friends have a good time here, and feel comfortable being who they are without having to stay on their toes. Emotions are affected by environment, and so is comfort level. Don't you agree? I want the environment I share to be known more as a warm one than a clean one.

Image isn't just for show when it comes to our homes either, but that is another blog for another day. I leave you with this image as food for thought: When Deana came home from work tonight, I couldn't help but giggle to myself as she walked in the door. She looked perfect. Her hair was perfect, her clothes were perfect, and she had accessorized just perfectly (she works in a very high-end salon off music row). She looked very out of place in her less than perfect house next to her less than perfect (and quite dirty, really) son. So how does she handle this situation? She plops down in the middle of the living room floor, takes off (and throws) her high-heeled boots into the kitchen, and proceeds to grab Carson by the ankles, throw him on the floor, and blow a raspberry into his neck. That's who Deana really is.

I only hope we can all one day be as real as our homes make us out to be. That dirt didn't start out under the rug, anyways. Let it be. Dirt has character. Show it off.


***Edit: Jenelle- I'm not really sure I've ever used parentheses so much. It make me think of you. And laugh. ***