Cool As A Nuked Cuke

When I was younger, more immature and, let’s face it, just less in control of my emotions I was known to fly off the handle a time or two (or 100). I like to say that I was simply passionate. That I believed so strongly in right vs. wrong and fought things that I saw as an injustice with a sharp tongue. But in truth I was really just kind of an asshole. I blamed others whenever anything didn’t go exactly my way instead of ever turning that finger around to point at myself. I see this same behavior in some youngsters now (as well as Hollywood starlets, a surprisingly large number of corporate execs - I'm talking to you DONALD TRUMP - and assorted manchild-esque adults) and I find it deplorable and, yet, I know I used to be that much in denial myself. Ahhh … memories.

Of course now I’ve chilled out a bit. I’ve matured (a little anyway, let’s not get too crazy). I’ve found peace and happiness in life. I’ve acknowledged that it’s only me and my attitude and my actions that are responsible for my life. And really very little phases me and gets me riled up like it used to – at least not the little things anyway. I’m the proverbial cucumber that others say they are as cool as.

But God damn it did I lose my shit this week. And though it happens so very rarely in my life anymore, I did what most people do when they blow a fuse – I exploded all over the thing that is very nearest and dearest to me: GAR. (You always hurt the ones you love the most. See, I do it out of love baby. LOVE.)

I should note that last week was simply wretched. And I’m sure the fact that I also decided to pick this week as the time to definitively give up my serious caffeine addiction had nothing to do with my sour mood. NOTHING. AT. ALL. And I had to hobble around work one day with a broken shoe on one foot when the sole fell off … and my skirt flew up over my head in the parking lot and my whole office building got to see my naked thighs and my underpants that say “Sasstastic” across the rear end … and my current book club read is all feminist angst aimed at why men are the root of all evil, etc. etc. But let’s not make excuses here – I am responsible for my own actions … and my own actions led me to completely rip GAR’s head off, eat it for breakfast and then stomp on his heart for dessert.

Or I just got snarky with him a little and blamed him for something that (if I’m being honest here) is kind of his fault. But it felt MUCH more dramatic in my mind (like the time in high school I got in such a impassioned fight with my parents about why I do not believe the television program “America’s Funniest Home Videos” is even remotely funny that ended with me storming out of the house and “running away from home” … because this is how I used to roll when I got angry about something).

But let’s get to the point already, okay? Here’s what happened: Remember our labor intensive door refinishing project? Remember the hours we poured into making those old crappy doors look beautiful again? The blood (or at the very least, some paint splattered clothing)? The sweat? The tears? Well it all went down the drain when I realized that, despite all our best efforts, during the sanding process GAR had managed to also sand the glass in the door, irreparably damaging it with scratches. I hadn’t noticed before because the doors were so dusty from the sanding but now that they’re cleaned it’s clear that they’re ruined. I’M RUINED! Because, let’s face it, we spent weeks repairing those doors … and now we’re back at square one.

Now I know that as novice DIYers we’re apt to make some errors like this. Nonetheless I could help but not-so-calmly explain to GAR that he should have known that paper made out of SAND would scratch glass. But I digress … Let me take a moment to breathe … Settle down … And reach my happy place again. Ah yes, there it is – whew!

Okay, so how are we going to solve this little problem of ours? Well, we’re not. I mean, not unless you have any ideas. Please? I mean, I would love to hear them. LOVE. But until then there’s really only one thing we can do – pretend it never happened. It’s what’s best for our sanity really.

Instead GAR has thrust himself into a new DIY project that he also knows nothing about, is much more complicated than door refinishing and is once again, in our typical spirit of self-reliance, not even Googling directions on how to do properly because, of course, we can figure this out on our own – constructing wainscoting for the dining room. It’s a project that is well beyond our original scope of work for the house, is in no way necessary and generally requires the help of professional millworkers to accomplish (FunFact: My Dad was a millworker by trade for many years. Of course, GAR is starting this project this weekend and Dad will be in Michigan until January and is, therefore, of no help to us so it’s not so much of a “fun” fact as much as it’s just a “fact” that in no way assists us in getting this incredibly ambitious project completed) – what could possibly go wrong?

But damn, I do love me some nice wainscoting … so I’m just going to let him do it and see how this one plays out. And I’ll try to keep my temperature that of refrigerated produce from here on out.

Here's the look we're going for. I'll be sure to post photos of how it actually turns out.