I haven't had a home cooked meal in over a week, and I am so sick of take out Chinese, delivery pizza, and take out Mexican, that I put it in gear yesterday to get that kitchen whipped into shape. Still, even though I finished painting the kitchen, we had Mexican again because it isn't Mark ready yet.
After. Even though it looks like the same cabinets, the lower ones are new.
I wrote about the cats
pooping in the front yard a while ago, and how much Chandler relishes those
delicious nuggets. One of my sisters suggested mothballs to keep the cats out
of the front yard, and although a friend of mine suggested mothballs were poisonous
to dogs, I tossed a few handfuls of them out there anyway. I'll just have to be
vigilant when I take the dogs out front. So anyway, here are the results of my
mothballed front yard experiment. Last night I went out to feed the cats and
they both were out front, strolling among the mothballs. They didn't seem the
least bit bothered by them. Then this morning when I took the dogs for a walk,
I opened the front door, and there was the neighbor's cat lounging among the
mothballs. She was laying out in the yard completely at ease while surrounded
by the chemical stench of mothballs. So now I have a front yard that the cats
are still pooping in, strewn with mothballs, and every time I open the front
door it smells like a crazy cat lady's closet.
I am in the final stage of my
kitchen remodel, the painting part. You might think painting is an easy job,
you would be wrong. Painting the kitchen involves first, the removal of mounds,
and mounds of Mark's kitchen gadgets, containers, and utensils. This is no easy
task. As of this moment the dining room table and chairs are all covered with
crap that I have removed from the kitchen. I then have to tape off all the
areas I do not want paint on, Spackle the holes in the wall where Mark had hung
everything from a cuckoo clock to a sack of pecans, and then sand down all the Spackle. There is a lot of Spackle because I have tried to cover the wall paper
border in preparation for painting over that crap. My biggest problem is that I
have to do this all alone. I have no help. No skinny, shopaholic, sidewalk
foreman helping me. Just me... and the dogs. Luckily it's hard to see the paint
on their mottled colored fur. It's not like when I was young, in my early
twenties, and people would throw painting parties. I can remember a number of
those. Some people supplied beer and pizza to entice friends to come and help, others
supplied pot and pizza, while the truly brilliant would give each guest one amphetamine
pill at the door and hand them a paint brush. You cannot entice people my age
to come over and help you paint. No amount of promised wine, vodka, or drugs,
which at our age would be Crestor, can get your old fart friends to come over
and spend a day painting your kitchen. Not even if they live with you.
I don't know who invented
wallpaper, but I hope that person is rotting in hell with the guy who invented Linoleum.
When Mark suggested wallpaper years ago, I was skeptical. He assured me that it
was a great idea and that he knew how to put wallpaper up. He didn't really,
but he put it up on the walls anyway. I found out how horrible it is to remove
wallpaper a few years later. Back when we were redoing our kitchen in 2001,
wallpaper borders along the top of the wall were very much in style. So as a
finishing touch, that is what Mark did. He put up a wallpaper border. Now,
thirteen years later, it is my job to remove that thing. "Don't
worry." Mark tells me, "I bought that new steam machine. It comes
with an attachment for removing wallpaper." There are two problems with
the steam machine. First of all, steam turns into water when it hits the wall. It then dribbles down onto everything that you do not want to get wet, including the dogs who think I have torn apart the kitchen for their amusement.
Secondly, it doesn't work. I tried and tried, but that wallpaper border would
not budge. So I got some of that Dif brand wallpaper remover. I did everything
in the instructions that I was told to do. I poked holes in the paper, sprayed
the Dif on the wall, and waited twenty minutes. It didn't work. After scraping
and scraping, all I got was a mess on the wall. I gave up on the Difand Googled "How to defeat wallpaper" to find out if there was another way. There is. I will paint over
that wallpaper border. According to Google I should cover the paper with a coating
of 'joint compound' (write your own joke here), sand it down, paint it with
primer, and then paint the room. When I advised Mark of my plans I got this, "Sigh, You never do things right.
It's going to look like shit." That
tells me that I'm doing the right thing.
I finished the kitchen back-splash
yesterday, but not without drama.
"What is that? You
missed a spot." said the man who doesn't do one single bit of the work.
"It's fine." I
"There's another spot
you missed. It needs more grout."
"I'm going to caulk it
later, you'll never see it. Now leave me alone."
never do things right. It's going to look like shit." said the man who
flirts with his own murder on a daily basis.
"GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE
GODDAMNED KITCHEN. LEAVE THE DAMN HOUSE NOW!" replied the man with anger
issues, which the other man knows about and for entertainment purposes screws with him constantly.
When I work on a home project
I have found that it is best that I'm all alone. Sure I could cut my fingers
off or electrocute myself and have nobody around to help me, but those are the
chances I'll take for the peace and quiet. Mark constantly checks on what I'm
doing and throws his two cents in as if I were a penny gumball machine. The
biggest problem is that Mark watches HGTV as filler between his favorite Bravo
television shows. HGTV fills his head with crazy ideas that he expects me to
fulfill. His latest is that he wants the living room painted. I just painted
the goddamned thing a couple of years ago.
"It isn't that hard to
paint the room. Besides, on The Property
Brothers they say you should never have 'specific' colors." said the
man who picked that 'specific' color and filled the living room with enough clutter to choke a hoarder. Hmmm...
choking, there's an idea.
I was sitting in my big
fluffy chair a couple of weeks back, watching The Strain on television, and
from behind me I heard this.
"What is that? Oh my
It was Mark screaming and
running out of the room. Mark cannot handle gory, scary, TV shows and he just
happened to wander by while one of the vampire beasts was feeding on some poor
schmuck. Between The Strain and The Walking Dead there must be a
shortage of stage blood in Hollywood, they use a lot of it. I am not above
feeling like Mark does about the gore. I just have to keep telling myself that
it's only a television show. Monday evening I started watching the latest
episode of The Walking Dead. It was pretty
intense when they dragged some of the people into a blood stained room, but
what I was looking at were some new characters in the show. I was thinking, 'Oh, there's a nice looking blond guy...'
and then they hit him in the head with a bat. I had forgotten one of the
cardinal rules of horror shows. If an unknown person is brought into a scene,
they will not survive very long. That was about ten minutes into the episode. I
turned it off. I had forgotten one of my cardinal rules about horror shows. I
never watch them at night, only in the daytime. I need those extra hours to
flush that crap out of my mind. Sure enough, I had some horrible dreams Monday
night and I'm not talking about the usual bad dreams that revolve around Mark.