Monday, June 30, 2008

There Have Been No Posts

Painting myself into a corner.

And for that I apologize. For I have made the unfortunate mistake of painting my apartment. If you’ve ever painted your apartment you understand because you know how painting sucks up all of your time and energy and savings account. You know how paint can be so expensive you’d swear it was culled from white truffles and the bone marrow of bald eagles. I’ve also got my windows thrown open because I’m paranoid that my parakeets -- tiny as they are -- will suffocate from all the paint fumes. This means that it is very very hot in my apartment. The drop cloths do nothing except guarantee that at some point I’ll step in a huge glob of paint, later forget myself and step off the cloth, tracking it all over my wooden floor or the bathroom tile. Then there's the fact that every time I walk past the paint trays I accidentally kick up some of Jesus and Stu’s feathers, which then float into the paint. So now I am literally nesting, pasting feathers directly onto my walls. I've gone to Home Depot four or five times, suffering a psychotic break trying to choose between absurdly titled hues like Soft Jazz and In Your Eyes (both real colors). I am saying things I never thought I’d say, like, “I know I said I wanted blue, but the blue is TOO BLUE. Too blue, I say!” Would it be so wrong to ask my super, Stefan, to finish the job and offer to let him rifle around in my underwear drawer for awhile as payment? Because that's where I'm at.


Anonymous said...

Letting the super rummage through your drawers and then letting him keep a thong would be payment enough.

And I'm currently watching Red Eye and you haven't been on in a while. Am I missing something about why you haven't been on in a while? You didn't get kicked off like Marsden did you?

MIke said...

I can sympathize. I painted my bedroom once under the delusion that one (little) room should take a about a day, maximum. I went out that morning and happily picked up a couple of gallons of antique white and all but skipped home thinking about how resourceful I was being doing it all by myself and not getting my dad involved (as I am wont to do with anything related to cars or apartments). At around 11:30 that night I stood in the middle of my not-eve-half painted bedroom eased my throbbing shoulders and seriously considered just moving.

Now when I see that commercial for Scotch Painting Tape (You know. The blue stuff.) I want to jump through into the television and scream to American not to fall for that spokeswoman's seductive lies. There are no such thing as 'sharp paint lines!' Sharp paint lines are the new WMDs!

Noelle Hancock said...

Mike, "seriously considering just moving"? I love it! Totally something I would do.

Anonymous, naw I was never a regular like Rachel Marsden. I just went on every now and again. And now that I don't have a permanent job, it's hard for them to bill me as an "expert." As Andy Levy told me the last time I saw him, "We don't really let unemployed people come on the show."

Anonymous said...

Can't blame the guy for rifling through your panty drawer. You are gorgeous!

But seriously, don't you have any male friends who could help you paint?

BCA said...

I saw that 'In Your Eyes' color at Home Depot, but I passed. If you read the fineprint on the label, it's made with Peter Gabriel's dead skin cells.