Have any of you actually seen my floor? A friend once joked that it featured a mural of Halie Selassie and a lion, but in reality, it’s just forest green with some gigantic red Xs scattered here and there. Oh, and a red border around the perimeter.

I haven’t gotten around to painting the floor yet — I’m kind of sort of not looking forward to that task — but there’s still a load of things I ought to get accomplished to get my life a little bit more back on track. And by that I mean: I really need to get some dinnerware. I’ve been eating off of assorted leftover pieces — we’re talking the not-quite-full-sized plastic dinner plates with pink ice cream cones painted on them (thanks Mom) — since the full plate set went back to Brooklyn with its owner.

Since plates — and lamps, and blenders, and televisions — are more exciting than floor-painting, let us consider:

• The North Star china pattern from Salem China, ca. 1950
• The Moss Garland light — yeah, order an extra one for Björk while you’re at it
• Hot as fuck Francis Francis Espresso machine — the East Village coffee nation would lose business at an alarming rate
• If Kitchenaid is good enough for my mom, it’s good enough for me
• Vintage Pyrex

There’s more, but this list could get out of hand. I mean, I have pots and pans without lids that fit them — and only a few of those to begin with. I’ve got an anorexically thin DVD player, but no television, and since I blew all my cash on fancy speakers from the Stereo Exchange earlier this month, I’m not sure any of this stuff will be a reality any time soon.

But a girl can dream, right?