Archive for January, 2011


Now I know why Van Gogh Went Crazy and Cut off his Own Ear

Do paint fumes kill brain cells?

All signs point to yes.

In my infinite wisdom, I decided that I would use a portion of my first real vacation of 2010 (from December 23rd to January 4, 2011)* to paint my new** condo. 

Why did I choose to paint it myself instead of hiring a painter?

a) I am a go-getter with moxie and energy to spare.

b)  I want to experience the pride that comes with engaging in a  DIY project (and anything involving a drill is still out of the question).

c)  I was gouged the last time I hired painters, but was so afraid that they would come back and break my legs with the illegal key copy they undoubtedly made that I agreed to their terms.

d)  I am a $%^&! moron.***

Armed with this logic, I pranced off to my local Canadian Tire to choose my weapons of mass destruction.   All of the walls would be painted a very trendy grey colour named “Veil”.  The accent walls would be painted a very warm and jaunty colour named “Bonnie Bell”.  One cab ride and a glass of red wine later, I was ready to attack.

Now, the first roll of the brush onto a stark white wall is always a bit of a shock.   But Bonnie turned out to be less of a burnt…something and a bit more…well…bright LEGO orange…than I thought.

It was now evening .  “I’ll paint the whole wall and see what it looks like in the morning”.

That night, when the clock struck midnight, I was visited by two ghosts.

"Naeeeeee!!! Ya canna paeeent a wall orrrrrange, ya wee chickeee!"

The ghosts of Colin and Justin roused me from my slumber, and dragged me out into the living room to look at what I had wrought.  

The wall was like the giant monolith from 2001, except that it was orange.

“What have I done, Colin and Justin?!?” I howled, “WHAT HAVE I DONE?!?”  I began sweating profusely.  “Is it too late for me?”

They pointed with cold, yet fabulously manicured hands at the receipt on the dining room table.

“Are you trying to tell me that I have to go back?  Back to the store?”

A paint chip lay next to the receipt.   I knew what I had to do.

The next morning, I trundled off to the Canadian Tire and bought a gallon of “Downing Street”.  Brick red, and very dignified.  Very Churchillian.

*  I am planning on taking my 2011 vacation on or about 2020.

**  Yes, I moved in at the end of April.  Keep in mind that it took me THREE YEARS from move in date to paint a previous condo.  This is relatively quick by comparison.

***  DING DING DING!  We have a winner.


It’s like being a lapsed Catholic, but worse

In 2010, you wrote 28 new posts.

Thanks, Stats Helper Monkeys, for pointing that out to me.

What the hell was I doing in 2010?  I wrote only 28 posts?

Was I curing cancer?  Recovering from cancer?  Building a house? Getting knocked up with triplets?  Appearing on Broadway?  Appearing in Playboy?  Marrying Hugh Hefner?

Well, no.

We think you did great!

That’s very kind, Monkeys, but I think it kinda sucks, actually.  I used to be able to knock out a solid 500 words daily* with no problem, and now…28 posts in 2011?

You haven’t blogged since 2004.

That is a much more honest assessment from a friend.   It’s been far too long.

You should always be writing.  You’re very talented.

Aw, that’s very sweet.  But it’s very time consuming.

To be honest, it’s easier to write when one’s life is a bit of a calamity.  It’s also easier to write when it’s done anonymously.  Lots of juicy, angsty material, and no danger of one’s mother finding out about that time you woke up on the floor of…well, never mind.

In 2010, calamity is a word that pretty much dropped out of my vocabulary.  The edges have smoothed off a little, the skin is a little thicker, and the fog has lifted enough to allow me to see a little farther down the road.  Writing about those things now makes me feel like a twelve-year old writing in a pink diary with a big, fluffy purple pen.  I’d like to think that I’ve matured since I started blogging in 2008, and the writing should reflect those changes.

It’s time to start writing about more interesting things, more often.  But like the rest of my out-of-shape muscles, the writing skills require some careful coaxing and stretching.

Happy 2011, everyone.  It’s going to be an interesting year.


* This includes drunken rambling.