so much depends...
so much depends
upon
a red front
hallway
painted with satin
gloss
beside the white
carpet.
I won't apologize to the wonderful William Carlos Williams, perhaps my favorite poet, for that.
However.
Anyone who knows about the saga of my red walls (which I can't recall if I blogged about before, or i Trixie did, or if nobody did, but long story short, it's been going on since January and I have blistering red walls) will know I am candidate for the "Contractor Stories from Hell" Award. The first contractor, after sending out four crews who fucked up my walls, floors, carpets and disappeared, eventually took off, and the second contractor never came after we hired him to do the job. So we got another company (cold call) to come out and give an estimate on Friday.
Today is Wednesday.
My walls are almost completely painted. There is no more blistering. No more "You must have lived in a Superfund site, ma'am"s. No more "Did you have a meth lab in here last year?"s. No more "Was there human sacrifice during the cult church services in your living room?"s.
I am going to marry my painter. He doesn't speak a word of English. I don't care. He fixed my walls.
upon
a red front
hallway
painted with satin
gloss
beside the white
carpet.
I won't apologize to the wonderful William Carlos Williams, perhaps my favorite poet, for that.
However.
Anyone who knows about the saga of my red walls (which I can't recall if I blogged about before, or i Trixie did, or if nobody did, but long story short, it's been going on since January and I have blistering red walls) will know I am candidate for the "Contractor Stories from Hell" Award. The first contractor, after sending out four crews who fucked up my walls, floors, carpets and disappeared, eventually took off, and the second contractor never came after we hired him to do the job. So we got another company (cold call) to come out and give an estimate on Friday.
Today is Wednesday.
My walls are almost completely painted. There is no more blistering. No more "You must have lived in a Superfund site, ma'am"s. No more "Did you have a meth lab in here last year?"s. No more "Was there human sacrifice during the cult church services in your living room?"s.
I am going to marry my painter. He doesn't speak a word of English. I don't care. He fixed my walls.
posted by itgirl at 12:51 PM
2 Comments:
What color did you go with? Is it matching the color in the guest bedroom? Now that is a color that you can work with. Another question, is the bedroom closet still clean? What new shoes have you gotten from Neiman? There are some interesting ones out this season.
Yes the closet is CLEAN or so rumor has it. The real question is whether or not Man Who Lives in the House has completed her reward for cleaning the closet !
Itgirl - you can't marry your painter until after he finishes my house. Then we can have a 3-some of painting delight ;)
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