Extreme Home Makeover: PART ONE.

Lately I've been dealing with the uncontrollable urge to make some changes. It's part of my mid-life crises, I  know it is. (That's the rational part of me talking.) Maybe it's psychological, or hormonal, whatever. I like to think of it as cosmic. The planets are lined up all weird, and their combined gravitational force is messing with my chakra. (Just kidding, I don't even know what a chakra is. Or if that's even how you spell it.) I get this constant feeling that I'm standing in the middle of a stagnant pond, up to my shins in murky water, hands on hips, staring at my surroundings saying to myself, "Well, this sucks. Now what do I do?" It is an itch that simply must be scratched.

I have to do something, but what? First, I changed my hair. And I love it, but it wasn't quite enough. So, it's TIME TO REDECORATE MY HOUSE! Not the main parts, but the bedrooms. And bathrooms. I HATE my bedroom. Which is really sad, because I think that a person's bedroom should be the place they most desire to be. When I was a kid, I loved spending time in my room. I loved being surrounded by my own things, listening to music or reading my books. It was the only space I could truly say was my own. My corner of the universe. Nowadays, my bedroom sucks. It's dark and dusty, and so incredibly beige that I want to gag. I have put my time and effort into the parts of the house that other people see, it seems that it has finally caught up with me. My bedroom is gross. ALL the bedrooms are gross! They need to be painted, two out of three need new carpet, and the guest rooms have become more like storage rooms for my unending collection of Crap That Has No Home. One of the "guest bedrooms" doesn't even actually contain a bed. (Yeah. I know.) And I don't even want to TALK about the bathrooms. Broken curtain rod, halfway-stripped wallpaper, wiggly towel bars...*shudder*.

I always have a problem getting started on projects like this. In my mind it seems like such a massive undertaking that I become overwhelmed at the mere thought and inevitably decide to scratch the entire thing. But it seems that here, in Mid-Life Crisis mode, accomplishing things is extremely therapeutic. Last week, I officially started redecorating Guest Bedroom #1. I took some art that I'd purchased to Michael's and ordered a custom frame. Then I went to TJ Maxx looking for a new shower curtain, but instead I came out with two throw pillows and a (rather ridiculous) accent chair. I think once you've committed to a piece of furniture like a periwinkle blue chenille corner chair, you're pretty much bound by invisible self-contract to proceed with project. So, proceed I will.

Project #1: Painting the Guest Room
In my 32 years, I have not painted so much as a fence post. How hard can it be? I know people that paint their own walls, and it seems to be no problem for them to do it, so why can't I? And according to the encouraging smiles of the Home Depot employees on television, anyone can do it with the proper tools. (Right?) I have a full can of leftover paint from a couple of years ago, when we had the main areas of our house professionally painted. I have no clue how long paint lasts, but I figure I'll be able to tell if it's still good when I open the can. (Right?) So I picked myself up and went to Home Depot. A more terrifying store, I have never seen. It's basically a floor-to-ceiling nightmare of items I cannot identify, or have only a vague idea of their intended use. I marched purposefully over to the paint section and stared up and down the giant wall of paint supplies, hoping I appear to be a person who knows exactly what they're looking for.  I figure I'll need a couple of brushes, a roller, and a paint tray. No problem. (Right?) There are about a million to choose from, and seeing as how I have absolutely no clue what kind I should get, I finally settle on a set that comes with a couple of rollers, a small brush, and a reusable tray. They range in price from ten to twenty dollars, so I finally grab a cheap one and an expensive one, and ask an employee what the difference is. After all, they're the experts. (Right?) Without looking up, he points to the more expensive of the two sets. "That one's better." Oh. Ok then. Feeling too stupid to inquire with the "expert" about any actual paint, (as Project #2 will involve Painting the Bathroom), I grab my supplies and head to the checkout. The clerk smiled at me, "Have fun!" she said cheerfully. RIGHT.

Today, I started painting. Without a real plan of attack, I taped around the window and the baseboards, and as an afterthought, along the ceiling. I took off the outlet covers and the light switch cover, and took down the curtain rod. I figure I'll start with one wall, and see what happens. Rather than take all of the furniture out of the room, I shoved it all to one side, and piled stuff on the bed. I cranked up some music, and started shaking up my two-year-old can of paint. As I cracked off the lid, the paint appeared to be in usable condition, so I stirred it up, and dove in.

Guess what? PAINTING IS HARD. My arm got tired immediately, as I was trying so hard to paint clean lines around the window and along the floor. The fumes were a bit stifling, and I was working up a sweat, so I cracked a window and continued on. Once I got out the big roller and started covering larger areas of the wall at once, I was pleased to see how quickly I made progress, and was happily thinking, "This isn't so bad." Then I took a step back. What had appeared to be a solid, even coat of paint looked patchy and amateur. My attempts to even out the thin spots seemed to make them worse. The paint got slightly darker as it dried, so when I tried to touch up a spot or two, the fresh paint appeared a different color, and I couldn't tell if I'd fixed the problem or made it worse. In addition to that, I was moving along much faster than I thought I would, and was faced with the problem that I'd only taped half the room, and there was a ton of furniture that would need to be moved if I were to keep going, and I really had nowhere to put it. Plus, I apparently SUCK at painting, so should I even continue? What's the point if it's gong to look like crap, and I'll have to pay someone to paint over it anyway? Finally, I made the obvious choice. I called my mommy.

She advised me to seal up the roller with plastic wrap, put the lid back on the paint, and she will be over in the morning to help. God bless her! I only have half a can of paint left, so she'll review my work and help me paint the remaining walls. If we run out of paint, or if the patchiness of my work cannot be fixed, there's always Plan B. *ominous music*....Wallpaper.