the smell of my desperation has become a stench

Welcome to Armstrong Inn, part four

So. Do you guys want to see the final reveal of the guest room, or should I ramble like an idiot for a few paragraphs first? You want the idiot part? Aren’t there like 6,000 pages of that on this website already? No, 6,000 is not an exaggeration, I AM LONG-WINDED.

Seriously, this website has killed so many trees.

I don’t want to color your reaction to the room in any way, but I know there are going to be some questions about why we did this or that and can I tell you where I got something and can I please not ever do that again. IT’S LIKE I’M INSIDE YOUR BRAIN. I plan on answering all your questions in a final post that will include pictures and long-winded reasoning behind everything (so, if you do have questions, fire away in the comments, although if you are mean I’ll make fun of your hair). But for now, I just want to share the final product with you. Because I am a sharer. Except when it comes to French fries and if you even think about reaching over here I will smack your hand right off.

(Thank you Anna Beth [y’all need to sign up for her design camp] for all your hard work. I mean, ah know, right? Thank you, Jon, for the gorgeous cinematography and music. And many thanks to Tyrant for all the details you don’t see but were critical in bringing all this together. YOU WILL GROW TO LOVE THOSE LAMPS, HON.)

……..

This post is brought to you by IKEA and THIS IS THE OFFICIAL DISCLOSURE, WHAT UP, FTC!

Heather B. Armstrong

Hi. I’m Heather B. Armstrong, and this used to be called mommy blogging. But then they started calling it Influencer Marketing: hashtag ad, hashtag sponsored, hashtag you know you want me to slap your product on my kid and exploit her for millions and millions of dollars. That’s how this shit works. Now? Well… sit back, buckle up, and enjoy the ride.

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