I started painting Booie's room yesterday. I put the first coat on the ceiling without a problem. No splatters or anything. I didn't even get paint on the ceiling fan.

The next part was priming the walls. She had done a number on them over the years--crayon markings, stickers, paint, makeup, sticky hands, glue, the poo from her poo-pig, and some unidentifiables. There had been mildew on a couple walls that didn't fully go away after two doses of remover (stupid wet fall), so I wanted to make sure that didn't seep through either. I shook the hell out of the can of primer, but that obviously wasn't good enough. When I started putting it on the wall, it ran like water, so I got a stirrer and stirred the hell out of it. I did it every time I poured more. It went well enough. Clean-up was a pain, since you have to use mineral spirits, but it got done.

All was well until I went to get a blanket out of Booie's room, so she could go sleep on the futon instead of inhaling primer fumes (what dreams that might cause!). I moved a storage unit which then slid and hit the box I had the can of primer on. The can fell off the box, and the pouring lid popped off the can, and half a can of primer poured onto the wood floor. I got the can up, so a whole can of primer wouldn't be on the floor, then ran to the hall closet and grabbed the oldest towel in there. We had still been using that set of towels, but oh well. One towel wasn't enough, but by then I was up to my elbows in primer, holding the towel in a type of makeshift corral, and keeping the bit of plastic dropcloth that managed to catch some of the primer from adding to the mess. John knew I'd spilled primer but didn't interupt his Magic Online game until I yelled for him. He got more older twoels from downstairs (newly washed, even), and I did what I could to keep the floor from being totally destroyed. There's a big area of white haze now, but it's not too awful. I was thinking about painting it anyway. Too bad there was still furniture in there, or I could have just spread the spill all out.

I cleaned myself up after that, practically bathing in mineral spirits. I'm sure that's nice and healthy. Better than being painted whie halfway up my arms. I still look kind of like I have a french manicure though, but my cuticles look pretty ragged. All that stuff isn't good for manicures, regardless of the white nails. I took a regular bath after my mineral spirit bath, using some of my fancy-pants Monoi de Tahiti oil so I would smell better. I still feel like my nasal passages got a coat of primer still today. That smell just doesn't seem to go away.

The second coat of paint went on the ceiling today without a hitch again. Hopefully I've had my big bad event of this painting session and all will go well from here on out. And maybe I'll be a little smarter from here on out.

Things I knew but didn't do:

• Keep paint and primer over a drop cloth at all times. Even if you think you're careful, you aren't.
  
• Don't set cans of primer on boxes or anything higher than the ground.
  
• If you set something on end, it will fall over, and it will knock over the worst thing it can when it does.
  
• If the pouring lid doesn't seem like it fits the can properly when you put it on, it doesn't, and it will pop off and/or leak at every opportunity.
  
• Put things away when you are done, or something very bad will happen.
  
• If something can go wrong, it will. Just plan on it.

This whole incident bothered me surprisingly little. Why does an ugly white blob on the nice hardwood floor not get me riled up but the shitty paint job of the previous owner does? If we ever move, maybe the next people will hate my messes. I think this one may just get covered with a carpet. So whoever is here next won't know about it until I'm gone. Heh. But the paint job will be superb.

---------------------------------------------

One Year Ago Today: