This is where things get boring. This is where you go check out Meg Cabot’s blog.

This weekend I got a bee in my bonnet and decided to paint my tiny guest bathroom. I’ve been under the weather forever, but I knew when that motivation to paint hit that things were getting back to normal. So Friday after school, I went to a few different places to get paint and got started.

Here’s what we’re working with.

It’s not awful, but the camera also doesn’t do the mud brown paint justice. And there’s sand in the paint. Overall, it’s a dark room that can bum a girl out when she’s trying to pee. And who wants to get up off the toilet needing Prozac? Not me. It was time for action.

I have a few projects going. I wanted to paint the bathroom, paint the old cabinet in there, change out the hardware, and test out some colors for my dining room/kitchen. All in one night. I also wanted to conquer the world, cure cancer, and straighten out Lindsay Lohan’s life.

I am easily distracted, so before I got to the bathroom painting, I got something to eat. Then I emailed a bit. Then I flipped through a J. Crew catalog. Then because I needed to get this bathroom done…I slapped some paint on the dining room wall. A little less than a year ago, I painted my dining room this nice trendy brown. Then I realized it was basically the same hue as my cabinets. And I couldn’t live with it. So three days later, I got some different paint. And I have hated it ever since. It makes me mad every time I look at it.

I think I want my kitchen/dining room to be this trendy mint blue-green. I’m seeing this color everywhere. Except I can’t find the exact shade I want. I found some options. I like to test my options on my best China.

I have a friend who pours salt all over her food when she is full so she won’t eat any more. (It makes me tear up every time. Especially when it’s Mexican food. Don’t dishonor the fajita.) I decided to take the same approach to my red-maroon-burgundy-supposed to be Chinese red like the Shogun bathroom-wall.

Now I have to paint. Because I just salted my fajitas.

To get to my bathroom, you have to walk through my living room. Where two couches sit.

Because one has been sitting for sale on Craig’s List for over a month. Turns out Craig’s List is not where you sell furniture. It’s where every lurking spammer and pervy creeper in existence gathers to wait for your email address. I’m happy to say I didn’t fall for it. After the first time. I’m also having a “couch cushion selection” dilemma, but I still can’t talk about that one without eating a Snickers bar.

Painting is like writing. It takes lots of prep work. I don’t like the prep work. I like the final ta-da! end result.

At this point I was supposed to be painting the cabinets.

But I just had to have a preview of the color. It’s like envisioning the finish line when you’re back at the one mile.

I’m a good painter. At least my end result is usually good. But as practiced as I am at this art, I rarely tackle it without some catastrophe. I’m just messy.

Being messy with black paint is kind of a whole new ball game. It’s a little more…permanent. This black paint somehow spread like chicken pox. I found some up my nose. Found some on my butt. And I don’t mean on my pants. That one is still a mystery.

While I didn’t get the new faucet installed or the new lighting, I did put in the new brushed bronze hardware. I smile every time I spin the Charmin on my new toilet paper roll. What I like about painting is, if all goes well, you have a new room in about a day. For those of us who don’t like long, drawn out projects, it’s perfect!

Paint job a success! Now I just need to learn how to install tile…

This weekend we also celebrated my sister-in-law’s birthday and went to a Mother’s Day tea at my grandmother’s nursing home. My grandma wheeled herself out of the tea right in the middle of it. My family took up two tables. We stayed and ate our chocolate covered strawberries while Grandma ran the halls. One old lady a few tables over got a phone call on her cell (as the social director was reading some lovely, inspiring stuff on mothers), and the woman went ahead and had her conversation. As loud as possible. The social director did read for an extended period of time. Another woman a few tables next to us started loudly dropping hints. “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!”  That morning I woke up with a renewed burden to be positive all day and not say a bad word about anyone. I thought my head was going to explode. I deserve a dang medal.

Then we finally corralled my grandma. (After we finished our cucumber sandwiches.)

Later that night was my sister-in-law’s birthday bash. This is my niece doing whirly spins in my mom’s living room.

Her shirt has a picture of a sunshine, a rain cloud, then a rainbow. She pointed to the sun and says, “This means suns.” She pointed to the rainbow and says, “This means a rainbow.” Then the rain cloud. “This means you can’t go outside and play.” She said this before asking me to “Un-inside-out her sleeve.”

This is the birthday girl.

In this picture she’s seeing for the first time that I dedicated So Over My Head to her.
I leaned over to my brother. “I dedicated a book to your wife. What did you do for her?”
Michael: “I gave her children.”

Hope you have a good week!
JEN

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