vituperation

Behold, the master bedroom as it was:

Mmmmm, puke-green.

Spidey’s watching out for crimes to prevent.

Did I ever mention that this room was actually the original dining room?

The previous owners filled in two doorways to make it a bedroom.
That’s why it’s sheetrocked (and the one wall in the front room is, too) instead of wood.

I had a decent idea about what I wanted to do with the room before Robyn even left. One evening last week I went to Lowe’s, spent about 45 minutes deciding on what I wanted, color-wise, and then sought out a female employee to get approval, as what I’d chosen was somewhat daring.

And feminine.

Really feminine.

The Lowe’s employee validated my color choice, then tried to convince me I need to do an accent wall of fake brick.

This did not raise my confidence levels in her decorating skills.

“The house is seventy five years old,” I said. “Most of the walls are tongue and groove pine. The ceilings are even wood.”

“And a faux brick wall would be really bold with that. It would stand out.”

“I can’t cover up seventy five year old pine with plastic brick. We like to keep things simple, but with nice bold colors.”

We went back and forth, with her trying to sell me on various panels to use as accents for what I’d selected, and it took me about ten minutes to get away from her.

I spent the next several days fretting about my decision for the room. I worried that Robyn would hate it and make me redo it. Or worse, that she’d hate it and not tell me, choosing instead to live a longsuffering life in a room that turned her stomach.

I wasn’t able to work on the room at all on Monday because I was getting over being sick. Oh, speaking of that, I’m 100% back to normal. Drinking coffee, eating all my meals, everything. On Tuesday, I set a record for the amount of things done in one afternoon. That day I: tore out all the old crown molding / coves / quarter round, painted the new crown molding twice (with time for the first coat to dry in between), completely primed the walls, removed the light fixture and hung a fan-light combo, then painted all the walls in my new choice.

I was the fucking man Tuesday.

The rest of the week was spent finishing all the molding and fretting about the way the room looked. I was absolutely in love with it, but I seemed to be one of the only ones. Sure, people told me it was pretty, but they didn’t seem to mean it. Not like with all the other colors. I realize colors are a personal choice, and that I only have to please one person with the room, but still, I was hoping for a little validation.

Last night, I posted some preliminary pictures on a message board I’m known to hang out on. I wanted opinions from people who don’t actually know me personally.

Boy.

A large number of people hated it. I got teased (which I started, by saying I needed to spend today working on the wood shed to get my testosterone levels back up after such a girly color), told I would be run out of town by my wife, and had it suggested that I try to redo the room before she got back. It would appear that the color of the room is either a “love it” or “hate it” thing. There’s no middle ground.

Me, I loved it. Love it. I felt — and feel — that this room is my greatest accomplishment in Smallville yet.

But only one person mattered.

“Close your eyes,” I said, standing with Robyn just inside the front door earlier this afternoon.

She did so.

I led her slowly through the house to the master bedroom, babbling each step of the way about where we were and what she needed to step around or over. Finally, we stood together in the master bedroom.

Showtime.

“Okay,” I said. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

“I hope you like it, but I’m scared you’ll hate it.”

“Me too. I want to like it.”

I took a deep breath.

“One…two…ready?”

“Ready.”

“Three.”

She opened her eyes and stared at the wall. Slowly, she turned all the way around, taking in the full effect of the room.

She said nothing.

I started to doubt myself, wondering if I’d really screwed the pooch on this one.

Robyn opened her mouth to speak.

Sorry for the dark pictures. My camera adjusts for the bright-ass light in the middle of the room.
The room is much brighter and lighter than it looks.

The top color is “silver smoke”; the bottom is “smoky grape”.

I love how the silver/gray of the top picks up the purple and ends up looking like a pale lilac.

And go Fred for NAILING the chair rail.
No that door hasn’t been painted yet.

“I LOVE IT!” she said.

Booyah.

Next time: a tale of the walkin’ dude.