Big Ass Painting Woops

November 22, 2011

My Dad is one of those guys who can fix anything. Anything.

He rebuilds cars, he fixes boat engines, he paints, he remodels, he lays carpet, and I when I was a child, I kid you not, he put an addition on our house by himself. Literally, all by himself. There was no architect, there were no subcontractors. The only help he ever had was for one hour, when a few of friends came over to help him heft the ginormous supporting joist in exchange for a couple of Busch Beers.Other than that, the family room was built el-solo.

It's funny how life patterns itself, because I also have a husband who likes to do things all by himself. Such as hunt, fish, wipe, and sleep when he pisses me off.

They do say you marry your father!

My father was blessed with a daughter who happens to be a whole lot of fun, but also a sh$%-a$$-cluster-$%^& of a mess. Thanks to the Mormon religion, I'm not an alcoholic. And thanks to the pure Grace of God and a Southern friend who likes to pop by unexpectedly, I'm not a hoarder. But I will admit, every time I watch that show, I fell really really bad for those the hoarders are being wronged.

Because they are.

You can hear me desperately pleading with the TV waves. I'm like, "No, please, don't. Please let her keep the vintage jar of beans and the doll with no head. Please. They MEAN SOMETHING TO HER."

I also think my toothbrush has feelings.

Anyhoo, I'm a completely disorganized mess, and as such, I rarely finish a home-repair project beyond 90%. You can see 'em all over my house. Every room has a gem or two. And Jared's probably worse. Even if I do the first 90% of the project completely on my own, he refuses to participate in any portion of the final 10.

If I say, "Jared, I just ripped out this closet, re-sheetrocked, painted, stenciled, and showered it with pixie dust. Can you hang these hooks?" He'll go, "You got us into this mess, now you get us out of this mess. Where's my dog?"

Then I start hating him, and I consciously decide not the hang the hooks, because I want a constant reminder of how much he sucks ever time I try to hang my coat and it slumps to the ground.

(What's that? You need marriage advice? Call me!)

Anyhoo, my parents are rolling into town any minute, and I decided I absolutely had to complete two unfinished painting projects before my father sets eyes on my house and has to give himself a pep-talk about unconditional love. I had to:

1) Paint the ceiling in the mudroom, and

2) Paint the trim in the upstairs hallway.

The mudroom's done. It went fine. Actually, it's not done. There's a little hole in the wall, and it really needs a second coat of paint that it'll never get. See? Done. But the upstairs hallway? Let's just say it is, was, and will be the biggest painting oops of my entire time on this planet. And probably the eternities after.

This is the upstairs hallway. Not too long ago (in honor of Gracie's death if we're being perfectly honest), we put down new floors. Sweet old greyhound, she used to like to take long, giant pees up there just to remind us that she only kind of liked us. So, about forty-five minutes after she died, through my sobs, wails, and hyperventilation, I was like, "What's...sob, sob, cry...the budget...sob, sob, sob...for when I go...heave, heave, cry...floor shopping tomorrow?"

Very sad moment. Still tears me up just a splash.

So, we laid new floors, we replaced the trim, and we painted the walls. Only I was too cheap to buy brand new paint for such a small area, so I mixed some dark beige and some light beige and made just enough medium beige to cover the walls. And by the way, I know. It's a lot of beige.

So I painted the walls, and Jared put up the trim.

And it needed to be painted.

And two months later it still needed to be painted.

And one month later, when by dad was just about to visit, it still needed to be painted.

So I painted it.

But when I painted it, I got just a little bit of white paint on the wall. No biggie, I'd cover it up with my homemade medium beige.

So I did.

Except it wasn't beige. I'm apparently really stupid in dim places, because it was actually white. See?

I'm all out of my homemade beige. Well I wasn't out of homemade beige, but I was getting emotionally attached to the almost empty can, calling it 'Uncle' and stuff, so Jared threw it away. I never knew.

So my homemade color is gone, and I can't really waltz over to the paint store and go, "Whip me up one gallon of hocus-pocus medium beige," while I wiggle my fingers to make the scene look at magical.

I can't very well bring an entire wall and have it colored matched either.

My only alternative is to repaint the ENTIRE HALLWAY. And really, how long do you think that'll take?

I give it a year. I'm sorry Dad.

Bun Topples

November 16, 2011

So I suck at the everyday thankful posts. ARE YOU HONESTLY SURPRISED?!

I didn't think so.

The truth is, I'm thankful for a lot of things. Things like my mom, and my dad, and my kids who are so inappropriately cute that it's almost painful to look at them with the naked eye. Those kinds of things.

I'm also thankful for The Sister Wives (we have a new TV and how fracking cute/sweet/normal/crrrazy are they?), and that I passed the personal trainer certification test last Friday. Because holy shiz, that thing was hard. I'm not a science-minded kind of girl, so the fact that the direction your pelvis tilts is related to the strength of your hamstrings is attached to the flexibility of your lower back makes about as much sense to me as this sentence:

I sweater on top the next day's frosted bun topples minute.

Just imagine one-hundred-fifty of these sentences with a question mark at the end and four different choices. 

But somehow, by the Grace of God, the favors of my mother, and the gajillion tutorials from Jared, I passed. When that passing score popped up on the computer screen, I looked up at the proctor all teary-eyed and whispered, "I passed." She gave me a brief little should hug and said, "Congratulations. You'll be a great TSA agent."

I actually think it was the short, balding guy in the work boots who was taking the TSA agent test, which is fine--he looked more than innocent enough to pat me down.

And with that, I'll leave you with a random smattering of pictures from my memory card.

My friend Misty holding a cake:

One of my dearest friend Megan wearing a ball gown in a bowling alley:

Cutie kids on Halloween. That cowboy costume was one of the first-ever posts on this blog:

My Train for the Trot runners. I smell a lot of Thanksgiving Day PRs coming on:

And my pregnant friends Marcie and Nicole on Halloween. Actually, Marcie popped out an 11 pound 10 ounce baby yesterday:

Hope you're having a good Wednesday!

Thankful Day Three

November 3, 2011

Today I'm thankful that my biggest problems are:

1) I can't find my cell phone and it's out of batteries so I can't find it.
2) I can't find my keys to Jared's office.
3) I keep forgetting to return our Red Box movies, and I think I'm up to $8.

As far as problems go, those aren't really problems at all. I'm a hyper-disorganized, disgusting slob. Very grateful that that's the extent of it.

Thankful Day Two

November 2, 2011

Today I'm grateful for the Holiday Ham Hock Super Challenge.

What? You don't know what that is? This is news to you?

I'm just kidding. I made it up in a moment of insomnia last night, so it's news to me, too. Here's my graphic:

This is a facebook challenge open to every single member of the human race who has an internet connection. It's $15 to sign up, and half of all proceeds will go to the Dallas chapter of Back on My Feet. Why the Dallas Chapter? Because once upon a time, The Lawsons did Dallas! Remember?

There are three prizes up for grabs, and they're all the same. A free registation to any of Kennebec Valley Coaching's 2012 training groups, or a free month of individual coaching (in-person or online). You can win by a) running the most miles, b) losing the most poundage, or c) being the most enthusiastic exerciser and healthy eater.

If you're some kind of weirdo robot and you already run 100+ miles every December because you hate pie, then maybe this challenge isn't for you. It's more geared toward those of us who want to sleep with pie and have it's handsome, little pie babies. Or newish runners--it's perfect for them, too.

Sign-up's right over here. Starts the day after Thanksgiving and runs through January 1st.

Thankful to be able to organize these things. It's way too damn much fun.

Thankful Day One

November 1, 2011

Today, I'm thankful to have an attorney in the family. Smart as hell, this one:

Seriously, you should get a lawyer in your family, too.

Oh, and wait. You need a super well-priced, over-achieving, work-his-brains-out attorney who's lisenced in Maine and New Hampshire? I have his number.