The Full Experience

Perhaps you remember our red wall.

No? Allow me to reintroduce you.

Yeah, that's the one.

That very red wall--one might even call it maroon--has rubbed me the wrong way for awhile now. It was slightly more than tolerated at Christmas for creating a lovely backdrop to our tiny tree.

Otherwise it was a dark corner of overbearing color, sucking the light--nay, the very soul--out of our otherwise kinda sweet house.

Why? Why a dark red flat paint for the one part of the house? The rest of the house's walls were delivered to us in unassuming shades of "eh". With an appropriate eggshell finish.

Gentle reader, allow me to tell you what you do about such a color monstrosity. Go instantly to your nearest Lowe's and buy everything you'll need to transform that wall into a delightful, gleaming beacon of Clark Household loveliness. Fall in love with the color swatch for the "Gold n' Sugar Cookie" paint finish--you know it will transform your morning coffee corner into the European Cafe you know it to be.

Then take it all home and let it sit around for 7 months.

This will, um, let you get ready for the painting process. Painting 2 square feet of wall can be an overwhelming process, and you don't want to just dive in without proper preparation.

Seven months of sitting around will just let you really get your DaVinci on.

Okay, fine, I was a lazy procrastinator. All kinds of busy and useful things happened around the house while I let that wall sit. A new year started. We got Osama Bin Laden. Brendon and his mom did everything from major plumbing work to installing ceiling fans...while I let that wall stay red.

Apparently my 7-month itch finally needed to be scratched. I busted out the trusty Sugar Cookie paint, the primer, that blue tape, and various drop cloths to protect my beloved distressed wood floors.

Let's just say that they are now further distressed. Sadly due to my ineptitude. I just didn't read the instructions on the Kilz primer. When I opened it up and it looked like a jar of natural peanut butter--with the oil separated on the top--I did exactly what I do with that peanut oil.

I poured it off.

So, um, it was a very long and challenging process to apply that primer. Several times I considered changing the roller for a spatula. I should have used a kitchen implement. It was like priming with cottage cheese.

And that oily stuff that had separated spilled a little on the drop cloths. Later I would find that it created fabulous Rorschach-style stains in my wood floors. Stupid drop cloths.

Luckily I had Pandora to keep me company, and at first my new Depeche Mode station gave me the energy that one can only get from an 80s movie-esque Painting My House Will Change My Life montage. Yeah, my shoulders ached and it was taking forever to apply that cheesy primer, but I was rocking out to bumpin' music only a Cassio can create.

I moved on to painting, hours later. And yeah, there was an actual curve to the learning curve. I stirred the Sugar Cookie can's contents and found it much easier to apply.

To my hair.

Once the process was finished (by then I'd nixed the idea of applying the gold finish...I couldn't feel my shoulders and I was concerned about how well the drop cloths were sticking to the floors) I tried to scrub the paint from my fingers.

As hard as that was, when I discovered I had a lot in my hair, I just cut it out.

Um, it was kind of a lot. And only later did I realize it was rather easy to wash out of my hair. Awesome. Now I have a haircut to match my Pandora station.

And frankly, Pandora, I don't appreciate your determination to prepare me for parenthood. Yeah, I tell you that I like Depeche Mode and you'll obediently play it for me.

And then you throw in a little U2; okay, yeah, I'll accept that. Suddenly a little...Coldplay? Will you listen to some Coldplay? Weeeell...yeah, I'll take it, but only because it's a fast song.

Then bam, you hit me with some stupid slow ballad by a really lame artist. What? No. Stop what I'm doing and stomp over to the computer. Thumbs down.

And the process repeats, like a little toddler testing a parent's boundaries. How far can I go before she hates the song enough to get up from what she's doing? How bad does the artist have to be for her to discipline me?

Argh. I'm not a mom yet, but thanks, Pandora, for giving me a little taste.

Anyway, back to the wall. I admit I was a bit disappointed in all the time I wasted on the prep work of taping and drop cloth-ing. You already know that the drop cloth didn't serve much of a purpose. Well, neither did the tape. See, when you apply paint as thick as a dairy topping to your walls, large chunks of it will come off with your blue border tape.

So now I have peeling border pieces of Sugar Cookie blowing in the breeze of the air conditioner, revealing the primer and red layers underneath.

Whatever. I was too exhausted at that point to care. And I had gone into the whole thing with the mentality that it would be a learning process. I would make mistakes, and I would be okay with them.

Hm. It seems that I created my Euro Cafe after all. My mistakes gave me a funky new haircut, stained floors, and peeling paint...so European. So I say that I did it on purpose, to create the full experience of being at a little sidewalk table in Spain. Muy bien!