Pottery Barn Teen Dream: Don’t Ever Look Back

And…sort of in the words of Katy Perry…
You make me feel
Like I’m livin’ a
PB Teen dream
The way you taunt me with
What I can’t afford
I wanna charge it 
And never look back,
Don’t ever look back…
The PB Teen catalogue just arrived.
I need to tell you that this excites me.  Who says I’m too old?
I want to be adopted by a wealthy couple from the Hamptons.  Maybe The Barefoot Contessa. She doesn’t have  a kid.
I’m quiet. They’ll hardly know I’m there. I’ll stay in my wing of the house.
But it’s going to cost them a tidy sum.  I have taste. And that shizzle don’t grow on Christmas trees, yo.
I shall spend my days in this room.  On a bean bag chair…wrapped in a faux fur blanket…surfing the net.  The butler will throw a log on the fire and bring me a non-alcoholic Hot Toddy.  ’Cause I’m 15.
When I say this has got my name written all over it…I mean it’s got Taylor’s name written all over it.  But what a wonderful world we live in where absolutely everything has our initials or names on it!  Just in case we’re experiencing extremely early onset Alzheimer’s or we fell down and hit our head – soap opera style – and have amnesia.  Or we’re just that narcissistic.
A $179 faux fur sleeping bag – with a hood (to shield from those drafty Hamptons floors) is just the ticket for a sleep over.  It’s important to have two because perish the thought that a friend shows up with a crappy Princess Leia sleeping bag, thereby throwing off the entire design vision!  People have been unfriended for far less than faux fur faux pas.
Nothing says Merry Christmas like a love seat made of Yeti hide and a peace sign that even John Lennon wouldn’t have given a chance.
Personal ultimate game room!  Tabletop bliss at a cool grand a pop.  Must include the chalkboard, because how else to keep score in the most OCD manner possible?  Friends will laugh with me. Not at me. I’m sure of it!

I will, of course, require a bedroom rivaling that of a pre-pubescent hippie Ivanka Trump.  There must be a chandelier above the four poster bed in case Channing Tatum comes over.  I also adore an ocean view.  Visible from my headboard.

Finally…because I’ll be live blogging my awesome life of luxury, office space is a must.  I’ll need space for myself and my assistant.  Everybody in The Hamptons has an assistant.  I’ll gaze dreamily out toward the gorgeous landscape whilst I spin my web of witticism.  Perfect!
So…Ina? Geoffrey? What d’ya say?  You do have a Platinum card, right?
About Linda Roy

Linda is a writer/musician with a Peter Pan Petty complex, a guitar toting husband, two boys and pug dependency issues. She’s grateful that the word “snark” has been introduced into the vernacular since people just used to know her as “the chick with the bad attitude”.  She feels strangely akin to Larry David and will criticize your parallel parking abilities to prove it. She blogs at elleroy was here and fronts the Indie Americana band Jehova Waitresses.  She also writes at Lefty Pop and Funny Not Slutty. Connect with her on TwitterFacebook and Google+

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