On yesterday*, Bitchy Resting Face Alex came over and helped me paint. "Helped" is a curious term. I was totally Tom Sawyer in this scenario.
*When Marvin was a teacher, every Sunday night at 6:00 the phone would ring, back when people had phones in their house that would ring for all to hear, and it would be a recording from his principal. She had a PhD, yet she would say, "On Wednesday we'll have pizza day. On tomorrow, don't forget..."
On tomorrow. I like how my footnote is right at the top of this story.
Good gravy. I guess it's a Southern thing, saying "on tomorrow." But I digress. Hunh.
The room had formerly been a terrible beige that made me want to kill myself. Also, BRF Alex took this photo with HER phone, and I took the first one with MY phone. Enough said about our phones. The person who decorated this house before me--as in the last owner, the bitchy one from New York--had exactly my opposite taste. She was way into brass fixtures, and brownish everything. And faux marble countertops. You know me. I want everything to look like grandma's house in 1950.
Bitchy Resting Face Alex, who's half my age, had to tell me how to paint a room. Like, she said, "Get a flathead screwdriver and remove the faceplates."
Screwdriver? Faceplate?
So I did all that, although I had to use a knife and not a screwdriver and probably almost electrocuted my own self, and she taped everything off like it was a crime scene, like when they taped off Prince's dad's attempted suicide in Purple Rain. As you do.
Anyway, we brushed and we rolled and when she told me to use the roller slowly so as not to drip, I made a hilarious "slow your roll" joke. I also whipped out a "That's how I roll" room-stopper. I may even have said, "Let's roll." Basically I was Henny Youngman workin' that room. With a roller.
The hours rolled by, and although I still have to paint the whatever it's called, there, on the bottom, this room is mainly done. Poor BRF has to come back next weekend for Room Number 2. So to speak. What a shitty weekend. Bah.
The point is, after all was said and done and we stood in the doorway admiring our handywork, I realized.
It's exactly the same goddamn color as my living room.
Goddammit. And, okay, when the two photos are squished up next to each other, they're SLIGHTLY different, but let's admit it--I got a whole Blush and Bashful scenario going on in my house.
So. Yeah. Hell. It's a pretty blue, though. It's called Sleepy Blue. You know what I need now? Is, like, a guest bed and so on. So this isn't just a big empty room, like my soul.
Oh! And I almost forgot!
June's Coworkers' Senior Pictures
Nope. Not over it yet.