Thursday, February 16, 2006

Tim Allen is my TV dad

Proving that the Black Cloud DOES follow me:

Did you know that (apparently) in the olden days (by which I mean.. from 1933 till...about five years ago) people did not know that you MUST sand and PRIME paint before applying a new color? And that they just glopped on multiple layers, one over the other like so much bad nail polish? Until their WINDOW-LESS, weak-fanned bathrooms had all the interesting contours and texture of a lightly stucco'd prison cell?

I didn't either, until this morning when I started sanding my bathroom down in preparation to paint. So far I have discovered the following colors under my current (white) paint:

-At least three coats of white/cream/whatever
-Deep ocher-y yellow - now keep in mind I have PEACH (ugly) tile. Blech.
-Lighter yellow - as above
-Pepto-Bismol pink
-a rather ugly shade of blue
-a very 50's green

The interesting thing is that as I sand down, the walls are beginning to take on a bit of a rainbow look. Who knows how much further it goes down? It could be that my bathroom really isn't only six by six - and maybe there was even, once a window, but they painted over it so much, it simply dissapeared. Well, a girl can dream, right?

Foolishly, I thought that a couple of layers of sandpaper (50 grit, followed by 100 grit) followed by a primer/paint/mildewcide/mold inhibitor all-in-one coat would do it. Now that I've started, equipped with the latest in sanding attire (tanktop, jeans, bare feet, a nasty cold/allergy?? thing) and perched myself precariously on the sink and toilet... I know better. After getting through the first few layers, look like I've been standing under a powdered sugar shower, or in a very fine snowstorm. I think my, ahem, gross-out alert: mucus, may be rainbow-colored in the near future.

This whole "re-do your bathroom yourself" thing is starting to have frightening undertones of Karens' bathroom story. Yeah, this one (read it, if you haven't)

  • In Which Karen Says the Most Embarassing Thing Ever:
  • I mean, I've been to the hardware store about eight times in the last few weeks, and I've just send S. over there, and have now sent him to our local As Seen on TV store for a natural-esque solution to breathing in Eau de Poisonous Fumes for the next couple of weeks. Every time I go, I get the "aw shucks, ma'm" song and dance from the guys who work there, or else the "Now what you want, liddle lady, is to tell your husband to take the Shov-vel and dig a hole about yeeeaaa deep.."

    Me: "Umm, I'll be doing all the digging, actually."

    Hardware Store Guy: "Well, now! You've got yourself a real go-getter, haven't you?" (comment directed towards S., who just nods, smiles, and rolls his eyes)

    Me: "Right, so I know I have to dig the footing eight inches deep, fill it with four inches of gravel, and than a 50-50 mix of sand and concrete, graded on a two-inch fall over six feet, away from the house, right?"

    H.S.G: stunned silence, gulp, "Ummm...yup."

    I have better luck in the paint department, where the guys understand shades of color and how different combonations must Go Together. Plus they were totally able to diagnose my bathroom as having accute Moisture Problems, and Water-Based Paint over Oil-Based Paint.

    So about Tim Allen: On Home Improvement (c'mon, you KNOW you watched it) he was always getting himself into trouble, one way or the other, with projects. Fortunately, he had Al to fix everything and make witty remarks (or fat mom jokes) to.

    Anyone? Beard and flannel shirt not required. I've got to go, I've got to go and
  • Ready-Strip my bathroom.

  • ________________________________________________________________

    (That means: "An hour and a half later" here)

    Again with the antics - turns out that good old S. bought a mere quart, not a gallon, of the stuff that I need. So I was able to do the ceiling and the 18 inches that reach to the wood (painted, natch) trim - but not the walls. Guess I'll be needing that sand paper after all. I'd take pictures of the green, gelatinous, snot-like stuff that is currently coating my ceiling, if only I could find it in myself to totally lose ALL my dignity by doing so. I spread it on, not with a "putty knife or paint brush" like the directions said, but with my (gloved) hands. So picture this: Air-filter thingy over mouth? Check. Hair up/askew? Check. Clear latex gloves secured at the wrists with blue tape? Check. Bare feet? Check. STRIP OF PACKING TAPE OVER EYES BECAUSE OF NO SAFETY GOGGLES? Check.

    Green goo and fumes all over the place? Check. Husband who comes home and complains because his bloody door, just adjoining the room, is open (so I could get the packing tape)? Check.

    And in "4 to 24 hours" (please heaven, NOT 24) it should turn white - which means I get to start scraping it off with a triangular-shaped razor and all above mentioned gear. Pray for me. I am short.


    the sightspeed guy said...

    Tim Allen would be proud.

    Anonymous said...

    ok meeps...please, if you do anymore scraping the paint while it is dry(read:NO STRIPPER ON IT)wear a dust mask..chances are that the bottom 4 layers are lead based...your too cute to die of lead poisoning.../grin...soo-GL with the rest of that project.../giggle

    Chiada said...

    "Anonymous" wanted me to edit his post to say /chuckle or /evil grin instead of /giggle. I pointed out that /giggle is more of a Girly Giggles type thing. Not at all appropriate, if ya know what I mean. Of course, I totally overlooked the flirtation bit of it. Oh, luv the clear masking take masquerading as goggles. I hand it to ya, you're one in a million, meepers! <3

    Meepers said...

    A. Nonymous... gotta love him, haven't you?

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