Job done

Hello - I'm back! Not that I ever really went anywhere, mind, but I've kinda been neglecting everything because of my spontaneous decision on Sunday to begin painting my bathroom.

And guess what - it's done!

Hurrah!

Well, by 'done,' I mean actually mean that I've sloshed lashings and lashings of paint on the walls, and I don't think I can see any of the manky old lilac - of vile-ac, as I'd taken to calling it - that previously adorned them (I won't go on about former house-owner's taste in colours again, suffice to say that the bitch was colourblind. Or maybe just blind - in which case her dog deserves a kicking). Aaaaaaanyway, yes, the difficult bit is over. Here's a recap on what I've done:

Sunday: began prepping - clearing bathroom of manly toiletries, sanding woodwork, washing walls and woodwork, glossing woodwork (first coat).

Monday: first coat on walls, second coat on woodwork, first coat on ceiling. Partially distracted by Star Trek Nemesis on the telly.

Tuesday evening (because friggin' work took up the daytime): second coat on walls. Dismayed at persistancy of vile-ac to show through blossom white emulsion. Second coat on ceiling. Realization dawns that painting in an enclosed space and forgetting to open windows is not a good idea. I thought when you got high on paint fumes you were supposed to have hallucinations of dwarves and rainbows; all I got was a massive headache and a desire to lie down. Pissed off at the lack of dwarves and rainbows.

Wednesday evening: Still irked by lack of paint-induced hallucinations I take the evening off and trundle up town to see Pan's Labyrinth with former work pal Sarah at the Prince Charles Cinema. It's an odd place, with a bar named after Quentin Tarantino, and a cubicle in the gents named after Kevin Smith. The cinema itself dips in the middle for some bizarre reason, which actually helps aid viewing, particularly if a large-headed person sits in front of you. And it's only £4.50 to get in - bargain. Reminded that former work pal Sarah laughs at anything and everything; resolve to refer to her as the giggle-a-tron from now on. Pan's Labyrinth is very good, and I'm glad I got this belated chance to see it on the big screen. It's a curious blend of fantasy elements and a story set during the Spanish civil war, which is really rather brutal in places; it's also visually stunning, and intriguingly left to the viewer to decide for themselves if the fantasy elements actually took place, or were all in the main character's head. And, I should add, the sound effects are incredible - from the creaking of the bad guy's leather gloves to the noises the Faun makes when he moves. Never thought I'd say that about a movie. It sadly does not, however, feature the Lost Boys or Captain Hook, nor David Bowie as the Elf King as the title had led me to believe.

Return home and notice that I can *still* see splotches of vile-ac through the blossom white.

Thursday - oh, that'll be today! Daub paint over said splotches. Yes, I've spent this evening touching up my bathroom. It's funny how you can look at a perfectly white wall for several minutes and then start to see vile-ac showing through. Maybe this is a sign that the hallucinations are finally kicking in? Think I've covered them all, and quite frankly don't care if I haven't. I'm pretty sure I've slapped so much paint on the walls that the room is actually significantly smaller than it was on Sunday morning.

So there we have it. The painting work is complete. Now it's just down to hoovering the crap off the floor (not literally crap, I mean the painting debris), putting my manly toiletries back in place, and then sorting out the details - like a mirror, towel rails, a venitian blind for the window, and some lino for the floor in place of the mank-tastic carpet. I'm also thinking about putting a plant in there. I actually don't own any plants, and think one might look nice in there. Anyone know any that would like a steamy bathroom environment, and wouldn't wilt upon seeing me nekkid? I know bugger all about plants. Marcosy has already suggested a triffid, but I'd worry that would try to nibble on my ding-a-ling while I'm showering.