Thursday, March 18, 2010
In a brilliant maneuver to pretend like I never promised to organize my school shelf and laundry cupboards, both of which have been bound and gagged indefinitely, I am posting our recent pick-me-ups instead.
As you may know, I despise our front bathroom, you know, the one everyone uses/judges? We've remodeled the master bath three times in 12 years, the most recent ending in Todd being swindled out of $1,800 and our still not having the door the guy stole. Not a surprising outcome considering the person who recommended him, but still. It's very modern, it's just ghetto. The front bathroom, which the crook was slated to remodel/ruin/steal next, is the epitome of manufactured home shame. Omg. The walls are decrepit, the fixtures are shit, the tub/shower are BEGGING the Baby Jesus to be replaced, and the white paint might just be primer. I don't know. I was pregnant when we bought it and my mother-in-law did the touch ups, and well, she's like 181, and has The Depression mentality, thus primer = white. The cherry on this cake-o-crap was when (someone) who required frequent mirror usage, sat on the counter and it broke off the wall. Obviously I went to great pains to convince this guest that it must have been a fluke, that people who weigh 250 lbs. sitting on flimsy counters is perfectly reasonable. Bah! For the record, it's not the 250 lbs. that I have an issue with, for I myself am in that ballpark, I just don't sit on people's iffy cabinets so I can preen . Finally, I reached my wits' end.
At the same time, I was about to strangle my closet with my bare hands, inasmuch as there was no way I was about to touch it at all. Seriously, I went to grab one box in which to wrap a gift, and narrowly avoided an avalanche. An avalanche of surreptitious crap, an avalanche of thrice-used tissue, and an avalanche of memories. Last weekend, armed with my fancy new label maker with 29 fonts, my daughter, and a group of friends, the closet was defeated by K.O. I scarcely had time to take a cleansing breath before a truck load of mostly shit was in a heap on my lap. I was faced with organizing childhood pictures and myriad belongings of my dad, who died a few years ago, which pained me more than I expected. Then I was forced to reduce my gift wrapping warehouse by 75%, which felt so good. I also tossed the entire bin of every letter/card I've ever received in the mail spanning my entire life, as well as gifts and lies that left room for real things. I wish I could post a 'before' picture, but I didn't really realize that they were starting. Still, gather 'round and enjoy their triumph:
And after piling on the bed to sleep like a bunch of puppies in the welping pit, these bad-ass broads woke up and did this. Everyone got in on it. My OCD went down at least 15%.
Todd and Reilly:
Reilly the ultimate task-master, and label maker figure-outer:
Moxie madness perfection-check:
Voila! Two hours later, minus the blinds I bought that were too big. (Additional pic forthcoming.)
New blinds are orgasmic. (Towel chic just wasn't working for me.)
I almost fainted upon discovering this little miracle. My blinds shall remain pure: