Yesterday, the remnants of Hurricane Ike came through Indy, and it got pretty wild. No rain to speak of, but windy. I was up on a ladder trimming out my office (decided I hate the green, more on that later), and heard a couple zaps, then saw a white light, and then the power went out. It's localized at my neighbor's house--there' s a line down in his yard. Of course, I don't even think he knows about it because he's never home. But I called to report the outage several times yesterday, so I'm hoping that IPL gets its collective butt in gear and gets it fixed.
Have also discovered one more thing that spooks our big fraidy cat, Yogi. Just add it to the list:
- Motorcycles
- Sirens
- Car doors slamming
- FLASHLIGHTS
I painted the bathroom. I used the blue paint we put up in the bedroom on the main wall, and then did the rest in a tan color that matches the shades we put up in there. And I HATE IT. The color is far too close to the original baby poop brown that I was so crazy about covering up. Plus, there is nothing even remotely dramatic or even attractive about this color combination. What was I thinking??? I guess I do want to keep that blue wall up, but at this point, I'm totally open for suggestions. We kind of want to match the slate floor, I suppose, even though I hate that too and have big plans for ripping it up just as soon as possible. The good news is that the slate floor has pretty much every color imaginable. Except, you know, pretty ones.
And, as I mentioned before, I decided that I didn't like the green that I put up in my office (which was left over from the downstairs bathroom). So, when I was at the Sherwin Williams store the other day, I picked out Bunglehouse Blue. And even though I've only gotten the trimming out done, I think I'm really going to like it. Actually, I'd better like it. Because I've already spent too much time on a room that nobody even goes in (me included).
Eric spent a good deal of yesterday criticizing me. In some instances, it was called for, like when I dropped a mirror on the bathroom floor, shattering it into a thousand pieces (and no electricity to run a vacuum to pick up said pieces) and when I accidentally spilled hot candle wax on the living room rug.
*Seriously, this has got to be a hormonal thing, because about 20 days out of the month, I'm totally on my game. And the other 10 days, I'm a freaking SPAZ.
But in other instances, it just highlights to me how differently our brains work. In case you're just joining us, or have no first hand knowledge of me and the Big E, he is an architect and is thus totally anal-retentive, detail oriented, perfection-inclined. I am the opposite of that, and I also want/have to be the boss of everything. Lethal combination--it's like bleach and ammonia.
I view the first coat of paint as just that--the first coat. Thus, I give no shits as to how it looks or how even the coat is, given that I am just going to cover it up with another coat. Eric, however, goes nuts when he sees things like this. And says things like, "You're a terrible painter." And then I say things like, "Yes, I may be a terrible painter, but if I wasn't painting, you'd still be looking at baby poop brown walls because it takes you 3 weeks to do a 3 hour job." And so on and so forth... Anyway, we talked about this last night before we went to sleep, and basically determined that we're perfect for each other. Because even though we drive each other crazy on pretty much all home-improvement related topics, together, it's like we make one regular-person brain.
No comments:
Post a Comment