Behind The Red Door



I painted my basement door. Red. Bright Red. To be honest, Blood Red. Somehow I doubt this is what the Episcopalians or the Feng Shui folks had in mind.

I washed the door down because I it was filthy and I thought I heard something once about washing stuff down before you paint it is a good idea. I never had that idea before, but live and learn.

They failed to mention that you should wait for the surface to be entirely dry before proceeding should have waited. The first swipe with the roller made Freddy Kruger movies look like hygiene films.

So I took a moment, wiped the paint from my eyes, hair, clothing, walls, floor, cat and found a paintbrush. Poor paint brush. I started again. I was getting this stuff everywhere. I am an exuberant painter on my best days, but this crap was getting everywhere. Big deal, it’s washable right? I’ve got my Official Painting Outfit on and I have an old moving blanket down on the floor. It’s just the basement anyway, right?

This looks good! Wow! I feel the better chi (whatever, okay?) all ready flowing and it looks so cool!

Why isn’t it sticking the way it should? This is taking more coats then it should; I’ve never used exterior paint before, it must act different.

What is this shite? What did I buy?

$9 a gallon, on sale.

I bought Industrial Maintainance, Enamel Oil Gloss – OSHA Red!

We are in not American Standard anymore.

So I putter on. I finally finish. It looks good! So red, so shiny, so very kewl. I do the dance of the one less item on The To Do List and go outside to wash the brush and my hands off.

The brush gets very red. The ground gets red, my drive way gets red, there is blood in the streets and the drug dealing neighbors aren’t even cleaning out their cars My hands are covered in red. If someone drives by now, they’ll think I either killed someone or received an object lesson. It will not come off. Rubbing at it rubs it in. By now the nozzle on the hose is stained and I begin to count the number of things I touched leaving the house.

It looks like a very bloody moron with OCD had run rampant out of my house. Red finger prints everywhere. And the damn mess won’t come off.

Oh. God. I’ve turned into Lady Macbeth, as sponsored by Home Depot.

I throw away the brush.

I make my way back into the house and try to wash this shite off.

My sink is now pink. My hands are still covered with paint.

I take a shower and spend 15 minutes crouched on the floor of the tub with a loofa trying to get this shite off my hands.

My loofa is now pink. My hands are still covered with paint.

The loofa scrubbing hand is starting to be less In Cold Blood and more Little Women. Unfortunately, the scrubee hand still looks like a put it down the disposal. Yuck.
More scrubbing. My right hand is now almost as pink as the loofa, but it is marginally less bloody then before. More scrubbing.

Did you know that oil based paint can be removed with Turpentine? Quickly, painlessly, and with out loss of a layer of skin?

Live and fricken learn.



I turned my air conditioner on for the first time this weekend. In May! The beginning on May. It wasn’t for me, I can stand the heat. I did it for my little furry babies (Oh, add to the list of Things Daisy Has Eaten: 1 bra). So I turned on the A/C and all was good.

The basement was filling with water, but the furry babies were happy. I called the repair folks and as the A/C still works they told me to call the Non Emergency number. It is a very hot weekend. It will be much cooler this coming week. When I’m out of the house most of the time. The guy will fix it, for free, I’m demanding. I didn’t do it, dogger didn’t do it, their guy probably did it when he finally brought the right sized filter three months after the system was installed.

It’s so hot. Dogger talked me into turning the A/C back on so she can invite her dog friends over for a pool party in the basement. Carson Daily and the Hilton Whores will be here soon. They heard there was a hot, wet, topless bitch somewhere and they all wanted to be photographed with it. I hope they bring some catnip, Tex is working the door and he can be a real hard ass about dress code.