Wednesday, August 05, 2009

So basically, my mom and I got high

With all the drama surrounding my place and how it may or may not go up in flames at any moment, I've had a chance to think about where I would live if I could move anywhere. And what came back to me is that I really actually like my neighborhood. I just don't particularly enjoy the place that I'm living in (possible death by fire aside). I tried to figure out why that was the case, and all I could come up with was that it doesn't exactly let in a lot of light. THIS is because I pretty much always have the blinds closed. THAT is because I don't want people looking in my windows at all times and seeing how dead sexy I am in a robe and curlers. *

Anyway, I started to try to think about how I could somehow let the light in and yet still have some privacy. I wanted it to be removeable, easy to do (I'm not exactly handy), and something that didn't look horrible. So basically, I wanted what I have, only different.

The guy I'm dating gave me a great suggestion that he found online where you paint your windows with a glaze. I also had suggestions from a friend to add roman shades to the mix. I also have used that contact paper-ish stuff before, so I knew that that was an option.

So a couple of weeks ago when my mom came into town, I decided to have this be a project that we could work on together. We decided to go to Home Depot and consider all of our options. One kind guy suggested that I put up this black filament to have privacy. And I was all "Uh, yeah. That's an option, but I was kind of thinking of something prettier." So he suggested metallic sticky paper to put up on them. I thanked him for his time.

In the end, we ended up getting these cans of spraypaint that basically give the windows a "frosted" look. If I decided to remove this, all it would take is a vat of acetone. Easy peasy! I used to work in the paint department of an automobile factory so I know a thing or two about painting. I figured I had this in the bag.

It turns out I did not.

My mom being a school nurse who clearly cares about inhalents**, was VERY concerned about my inhaling the paint. So before we started I had to have the doors open, fans on, and then she would ask me to hold my breath. Like, I'm perched ON A LADDER trying to make the most even strokes of spraypaint ever and my mom is shouting "ARE YOU HOLDING YOUR BREATH? ANNE! ANNE! THERE IS NO WAY YOU'RE STILL HOLDING YOUR BREATH. COME OUTSIDE SO YOU CAN BREATHE!" All I'm saying is that my painting style did not end up being as good as I had thought. In addition, my mom would switch on the fans in the doorway of whatever room I was spraying to try to help move the air out. No amount of me telling her that that is actually sucking the spray towards her/me/the room would make her stop it. The cycle went like this: I switched the fan off, started spraying, she comes in and turns the fan on while helping me remember to hold my breath, I eventually go outside between coats to breathe and then go back inside to apply another coat and inevitably inhale the cloud of fumes that surround the window. Rinse. Repeat.

The result of the windows? I'm not sure.

Here is the same window with the same amount of paint on it - just at two different times of the day. You can see that at different times of the day it has more privacy than others.

I kind of do like it - because it allows for light to flood through my place and still gives me some privacy. It's much better than how I was living - which is with the blinds drawn feeling like I was in some sort of cave. Besides, if I'm going to live in a cave, then I'm going to have to become a full-time superhero. And that's just taxing at times.

*Alright, I don't wear either...and trust me, that's even scarier.
**And yet she smokes. (sigh)

1 comment:

rich said...

Your mom is such a buzz-kill. What’s the point of painting if you can’t get a little happy headed? Just kidding, I had friends on meth that thought huffing was stupid because it was so bad for you. I think you should leave the windows, bring on the robe and curlers, and practice saying “You kids get off my lawn!”