Terrible Decisions: Redrum edition

…and here’s what’s happening today.  This is after one coat of RedGard; there will be at least one more today and quite possibly two, depending on how well the second coat covers.  You’re not supposed to be able to see the letters on the cement board anymore and obviously the first coat didn’t manage that.

(The pictures are really blurry.  Don’t know why.)

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It was determined that this was to be my wife’s job, as I have never been good at painting in any context, and painting with something that had been described as “runny mayonnaise” did not seem like optimal conditions.  (For whatever it’s worth, the texture is more like pudding– less gloppy than mayo– and Bek says it’s been applying just like paint, only heavier.  She’s not been having any problems.)

Next step is tile, although technically once the RedGard is on the shower is fully usable.  God please don’t let me fuck up the tile.  That should be next weekend.

Terrible Decisions: Well, That Wasn’t So Hard

We made waaaaay too much mortar:

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But! Seams are mortared and taped and the one piece of cement board that looked a trifle crooked in one corner is fixed. Next step: Redgard!

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Presented more or less without comment, pt. 2

I feel like these two objects maybe do not need to be in the same room.  I, at least, do not ever need to use both of those things at the same time.  Maybe that’s what makes this place fine dining; I dunno.

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I… wait, what?

I’m not good on gender/sexuality issues, okay?  I admit it.  I’m trying to get better about this stuff but half the time just keeping track of the pronouns and the prefixes and the abbreviations is so fucking exhausting that I just try and default to “leave everyone the hell alone” and try not to worry about it beyond that.

But… okay, the author of this article is being a prat, right?  A word that I very carefully chose because as far as I can tell it’s gender-neutral while still being insulting?  I want to take real problems seriously but I don’t think you get to simultaneously complain that 1) you use the ladies’ room because you feel safe in there and 2) you are constantly assaulted in the ladies’ room because you don’t look like a lady.  Those shouldn’t both be true.  And apparently this person identifies as trans, but is biologically female and not looking to transition, which is the part where my lack of knowledge screws me up because I thought “trans” meant you were biologically female but wanted to present as male (or vice versa) which… once you’ve made the decision to go out of your house looking like a man, should mean “just use the damn men’s room, nobody makes fucking eye contact in there anyway?”  Right?  I think?

(Men do not talk to each other in the men’s room.  You could be a goddamned three-legged blue-skinned space alien with an echidna dick and so long as you didn’t try and peer over the damn stall dividers ain’t nobody gonna look at you.  This is known!)

Somebody help me out here and let me know what I’m missing.

(EDIT: relevant detail:  I have been a man with long hair, long enough and curly enough that I’ve been addressed as “ma’am” by people who weren’t approaching me from the right angle to see my beard.  Never had a single second of trouble with anyone in a men’s room.  I call bullshit on the “every long-haired male” line.)

On peeing: a brief, stupid anecdote

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And lo, it came to be that at the Answering of the Trivia, in the Land of the Snow People, I did after a Drynke of cool Water, feel the need to void my bladder.

Man thing: there are rules about urinals.  Some men– they are evil, and shunned by proper society– ignore these rules.  Most of us do not.  

I walked into the men’s room at the Fraternal Order of Police bingo hall to be greeted with the following:  four urinals, only the rightmost of which was guarded by the civilization-preserving little metal wall, and two stalls, one of which was a wheelchair accessible stall and was unoccupied.  The situation at the urinals was unacceptable; I went into the stall.

Now, let’s make this as clear as possible: I needed to pee.  

I discovered quickly that the reason that the door was hanging open was that the latch on the door was broken.  I could not, in fact, actually close the door and latch it.  I fiddled with it for a minute, pushed it shut, and figured “screw it” and went to pee.  Got as far as unzipping my pants.

And felt, rather than heard, the door slowly swinging open behind me.  And discovered something: while one would think that peeing in an enclosed area would be preferable to peeing at a urinal, particularly when said urinals are the unacceptable, barbarous bowl-stuck-to-the-wall type and not proper stand-up urinals, thus making only one of the four actually usable (the one with the privacy screen), it was in fact much much worse to be peeing in a stall where there was a very good chance that at any second someone could see the door, assume that it was unoccupied, and barge into the stall with me.  

I zipped up, left the stall, discovered that the single privacy-shielded urinal was available, and used that instead.

Feel free to revel in what a dumbass I am.(*)

(*) WordPress just corrected “dumbass,” which is a word that 1) is a word and 2) I use all the time, to “dumbs,” which is 1) not a word and 2) never used by anyone.  What the fuck?

The first of many oversights

wallpaper8Friday.  Alhamdollilah.

There’s apparently a sumbitch of a storm headed our way but I can’t get enough of a handle on it to determine how much bad weather we’re actually supposed to catch– while I’m usually not the type to get all yaah blaaah weather forecasters, dude, it really seems like this time none of my usual sources have any kind of common theory on how much snow my area is supposed to get; estimates range from one inch (effectively, none) to over a foot, which would mean that I wouldn’t have to go to OtherJob tomorrow.   And since I’ve spent most of this week avoiding work in general, another day where I didn’t have to do anything would be nice.

(Racks brain for a couple of minutes; comes up with zero entertaining anecdotes)

Oh, here’s a thing:  It took me way too long to realize this, but one important thing I left out of the big Terrible Decisions update last week?  Wallpaper.  There’s fuckin’ wallpaper everywhere in my bathroom, and that’s gotta come off, and by my reckoning that’s gotta come off first, before literally any other work of any kind happens.  So… this week, and starting this weekend, because I want that done before my two-week at-least-get-the-tub-done clock starts ticking over winter break.

At least it’s a really small bathroom.

I know nothing about wallpaper removal except that it is said to be terribly annoying.  As I firmly believe every single thing having anything to do with home improvement to be terribly annoying, I have no trouble whatsoever believing this.  So you’ve got that to look forward to this week, along with maybe a couple of 2013-listy sorts of things.

Just, uh, nothing interesting today.  That’s okay, right?  Please say you still love me.

SAY IT GODDAMMIT.

EDIT:  Just checked.  Traditional wallpaper.  Just… kill me.

Terrible decisions: interlude

Lowe’s wants $2000, sans material costs, to tile our bathroom, which has 37 square feet of floor space and less than 70 square feet of shower wall space. The entire budget for the bathroom is $2500, so… looks like I get to learn how to tile.

I can do this. Really. Honest.

While we were at Lowe’s today getting bad news, the boy was sort of misbehaving. Not really in any large way, just in that toddler “I want to do things that I find interesting, but are not compatible with my health or your desires” sort of way. He got a bit screechy about wanting to push “his cart” (he’s two; everything is his lately) in some direction other than toward the front door after we decided it was time to leave, and I made an Executive Daddy Decision, put my screeching son in the cart, and we took off, mildly embarrassed at the terrible sounds my poor, oppressed little boy was making.

Then we got to the front of the store, where there was a father with three little kids with him. Two boys: the oldest, maybe nine, then maybe a six or seven year old, and an infant of indeterminate gender in a stroller. All three were screaming and crying. The two older boys wanted candy, and were bawling at Daddy’s refusal to buy them candy, repeatedly insisting that he justify his non-purchasing-candy ways for them. The infant was also screaming, probably just because its brothers were.

My son isn’t old enough for me to have had to make any real decision about physically disciplining him yet. I am ambivalent about whether spanking an older child is ever a useful practice. I am certain that it is worse than useless with a two-year-old.

And I’m not sure whether I think this guy should have full-on slapped both of his kids in their faces for their stupid, embarrassing public display of bullshit or whether I respect him for his restraint. One way or another, he got out of the store without beating either of his spoiled-ass kids, although I can’t vouch for what happened when he got them back to the car.

“I forgive you,” I whispered into my son’s ear.

Maybe I don’t want him to get much older.

Terrible Decisions, Stage Four: Spendin’ Money

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And that’s our vanity, except six inches narrower than the one we bought. For some reason, I’m super excited about the vanity; I like the way the sink slopes gently downward into the basin rather than having straight up-and-down walls– although as soon as the boy learns how much fun splashing around in that sink is going to be I’m probably going to regret it. I am… working on the faucet. This is the thing that MLW and I have most disagreed on, I think– I’m completely in love with this kind of faucet and she hates it.

Also purchased: a matching mirror. We’re also going to get a cabinet but didn’t pick it up tonight because we’re not a hundred percent certain where we want to put it yet.

Tile dude was here yesterday; we should have the estimate on the tiling in the very near future. Whee!

In other news, I got two and a half inches of grading done tonight before deciding I was done grading. I’m sending home progress reports on Friday and I need to write an Algebra test tonight, too. Instead I will probably watch a couple of hours of MasterChef and then read a book. Like I said: Whee!