Saturday, May 21, 2011

The Hairy Blue Kitchen

My house has white walls.  Well, not really white.  They're more creamy tan.  Either way they're one of the standard base colors that the painters offered me when the house was being built.  I'm a wimp.  I'm a decorating, color coordinating wimp.  There is a reason for this and, as you know, the explanation is forthcoming.

My very first apartment was a dump; however, it had possibilities.  What I mean by this is that it was an old duplex in the heart of downtown Longbeach, California.  The prior tenants trashed the place and the owners felt that if I wanted to invest my own money and make it my little "domain", they were totally fine with it.  They lived miles away and never checked in unless there were serious problems with the property.

It was wonderful.  My older sister, her husband, and their babies rented the front house.  In time, my boyfriend and eventual first husband's friend rented the attached duplex next door.  It was like a perfect little happy commune and it was my first home away from home.  It had a common front yard where we could BBQ and a backyard to call my own.  The downside here is that we never had any money to invest in that little dump, so for the most part, it remained the dump that it was.  But it was our dump, damnit!

My current painting anxiety stems from this era of my life, having three cats, and not knowing the difference between flat and semi-gloss paint.  Some of you may have started guessing where this is going.  Also those damn samples in the stores.  What?!  They are never the same color that you expect them to be, EVER!

I had a beautiful old but tiny kitchen with built in cabinets.  My thought was that I wanted the walls to be very light blue with dark blue trim.  Even as I type this, it just sounds bad.  So my dear ex-husband stayed up an entire night painting before a party the following day.  What a good guy.  I woke up and almost screamed.  It was as if Circus Circus showed up and barfed in my kitchen.  There was nothing we could do about it.  I spent all of our money on that friggin paint.  Jeff did what I wanted.  God forbid if he questioned me (this was before I was diagnosed and medicated into the lovely lady I am today).  The only thing I thought to do was down a few Coronas, take a brush, and paint big ole blue daisies on my deep white bathtub.  If I also remember correctly, I painted a love note inside the medicine cabinet mirror too but that was for the next tenant to find.

Now for those of you who haven't guessed what the flat paint and three cats comment was about, one of my cats was a 24 pound, long hair tabby.  I have never been good at combing my pets (ok, so call the Humane Society already).  Anyway, at any given time of the day, one could see lazy hair fluffs floating around the duplex at their leisure.  Cooking grease on flat paint and hair fluffs are magnets.  My ex-husband, Jeff and I affectionately called our kitchen, the "Hairy Kitchen".  Disgusting!

All those years ago, it never once occurred to me why my mother didn't want to have dinner at our little apartment.  I get it now.

For all of you creative, beautiful people out there who have bright painted walls and walk into my cream colored house thinking I'm boring, please remember this story.  I will walk into a paint store eventually.  All in good time my friends.  All in good time.

1 comment:

Leigh Ann said...

I won't ever get into that paint store. It's off white in every room for me. I have painted borders in the kids' a chair-rail height. And there is one wall that has a wallpaper border on it. But that's it. I hang too much decor on my walls to warrant any wouldn't notice it anyway!
Oh, and the hairy walls in the kitchen...I think I would've taken ya'll out to eat instead! :)