i suck at painting. not artistic, pretty picture painting, although i have a feeling i could muck that up too, but your common interior wall painting. the kind of painting every other person in the whole world does on a slightly regular basis (every 5 years or so?), and oh so much better than me. i am suck-tastic at the painting, so suck-tastic that it’s like a paintball battle occurred as soon as i walked into the room and looked at the walls just to think about painting them.

alright, alright, i’m exaggerrating.

a little.

i have always been really good at coloring within the lines… all those hours during preschool and kindergarten really paid off… but i can’t for the life of me make the actual lines. specifically, i have ruined the ceiling because i can’t paint a steady line where the wall meets it. it’s such an obvious testimony to how absolutely i can’t do it right. i wouldn’t care if total strangers were going to see it, but the fact that it’s the boys’ room and all the mothers of their friends will be the ones seeing my egregious mess is completely embarassing. and then there is my father, perfectionist-painter-extraordinaire… i can’t hide it by drawing a curtain around it like i do to the bathtub since i “fixed” the chaulking. it’s just out there on that once-pristine white ceiling. (i suppose i could just call the blue splotches “clouds”.) and the other thing making it worse is that brian is awesome at the edging. so much better than me that i have designated him the top-of-the-wall edger for life, the same way i had to designate him invitation-maker for our wedding invitations even though it was my idea to make each one by hand. man, i hate being such a loser!!