PAINT CHIPS, BACK ACHES, AND MIND-BOGGLING UGLINESS
I finally scrubbed the walls in my guest bathroom last week ... having ripped down some old wallpaper this past summer. Now, the real work begins. At some point in the 50s or 60s, someone (who really should have been shot) thought it would be peachy-keen to mix a pink tile surround, with a turquoise toilet, turquoise sink and various shades of pink ceramic tile. Well, I'm here to tell you that it's an assualt to the creative system!
I watch Nate Berkus on Oprah with awe. He makes it look so easy. He can waltz in, wave his magic decorator's wand, and all ugliness disappears. In it's place is a bathroom that I immediately want to move into and never leave.
So, I walk into Lowe's with a bit of excitement at the idea of finally toning down the HIDEOUS that permeates my guest bathroom. Then I look at the paint chip choices that are available to someone with a pink/turquoise combo in such a compact space, and my little creative high is deflated. All the paint chips that look like they might work are in the UGLY rows -- you know the ones. Those rows waaaaay up high on the paint chip display ... those colors you see in homes for sale that are 40 years overdue for a major home makeover!
As I move to reach for the UGLY chips, my lower back, which I've managed to reinjure (almost a year to the day I injured it last go-around) screams out in pain. Yeah, I think it has less to do with the injury and more to do with the fact that even my lower back recognizes the paint dilemma I am in.
I pick up as many paint samples as I can find, stuff them in my purse, and make my way home. Once home, I get tape and begin to tape every last one of the chips on my bathroom wall. I'm sure Nate NEVER does this. I'm sure the color speaks to him from the cracks and crevices of the walls, whispering sweetly its quaint name ... a name like WHIRLWIND, CORAL COCKLESHELLS, HUSHED ORCHIDS, YELLOW BLOSSOMS, or SUNDAY FLOWERS (all choices you can obtain via Dutch Boy Paints, by the way) ...
Nothing whispers to me when I walk into that pitiful little room. Wait! I think I hear an ever-so faint squeak ... just a second. I'm training my ear, listening carefully ... yes, I do hear something ... it's my walls, and they are moaning, "Help us! Release us from this mind-boggling ugliness!"
I watch Nate Berkus on Oprah with awe. He makes it look so easy. He can waltz in, wave his magic decorator's wand, and all ugliness disappears. In it's place is a bathroom that I immediately want to move into and never leave.
So, I walk into Lowe's with a bit of excitement at the idea of finally toning down the HIDEOUS that permeates my guest bathroom. Then I look at the paint chip choices that are available to someone with a pink/turquoise combo in such a compact space, and my little creative high is deflated. All the paint chips that look like they might work are in the UGLY rows -- you know the ones. Those rows waaaaay up high on the paint chip display ... those colors you see in homes for sale that are 40 years overdue for a major home makeover!
As I move to reach for the UGLY chips, my lower back, which I've managed to reinjure (almost a year to the day I injured it last go-around) screams out in pain. Yeah, I think it has less to do with the injury and more to do with the fact that even my lower back recognizes the paint dilemma I am in.
I pick up as many paint samples as I can find, stuff them in my purse, and make my way home. Once home, I get tape and begin to tape every last one of the chips on my bathroom wall. I'm sure Nate NEVER does this. I'm sure the color speaks to him from the cracks and crevices of the walls, whispering sweetly its quaint name ... a name like WHIRLWIND, CORAL COCKLESHELLS, HUSHED ORCHIDS, YELLOW BLOSSOMS, or SUNDAY FLOWERS (all choices you can obtain via Dutch Boy Paints, by the way) ...
Nothing whispers to me when I walk into that pitiful little room. Wait! I think I hear an ever-so faint squeak ... just a second. I'm training my ear, listening carefully ... yes, I do hear something ... it's my walls, and they are moaning, "Help us! Release us from this mind-boggling ugliness!"
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