Patched hole in the bathroom

Wow, how did Thanksgiving get here so fast? Suddenly, the dog is shivering every time we go outside, TV has gotten more appealing than venturing out for movies, and, oh yeah, my family is freaking here! 

Actually, they are just in the metro area. I am blessed to have an aunt and uncle nearby who have much more sleeping space than I do. But tomorrow my dad, stepmom and grandma will see my condo for the first time since I started messing with it.

And, of course, it isn’t finished. The biggest project that I didn’t complete is painting the trim white. Two months ago, when I cavalierly decided to start painting all of the baseboards and moldings, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I got about 60 percent through that project.

I did manage to patch the hole in the bathroom, where the previous light was affixed to the wall, and that was a proud moment. I searched around the Internet until I found this video, ignored the part about only using the first technique for tiny holes, and hit the hardware store. So far, I have covered the hole with mesh tape and covered that with vinyl putty. As soon as I finish writing this, I will sand it and paint it. I think (hope!) that the hard part is over.

I’m not going to deny that I am behind on my lofty home-improvement goals. I have a long list of things I planned to have finished by now, and there they are, still looking at me and saying things like, “Yeah, hi, this wall color is still ugly” and “Hey, look, I’m still that broken, splintered floor problem.”

Overall, though, I am pretty proud of myself. The guest room is 90 percent painted and needs only about two more hours of work, tops. The color is “Winter Storm,” which is the same color on the walls in my bedroom. It took me eons to find one color I liked—who has time to start that process over again? The light in the two rooms made a big difference in the color, though. My bedroom looks blue-ish, but the same color looks perfectly gray in the guest room. I love it.

In the bathroom, I finally had a medicine cabinet installed. I can hide my toothpaste! Also, I had the bathroom light replaced—twice! The first time, the handyman installed it with the light shades pointing upwards. This is apparently what the instructions called for, but it wasn’t what was pictured on the Web site I ordered it from (and it wasn’t pretty), so I paid him to come back and flip it over.

I am totally on the handyman train these days. Even though that job was done twice, it was very affordable. Handymen are much cheaper than contractors, and are often more flexible with their time. I am pretty sure that the guy who is helping me now doesn’t have a bunch of super-fancy extras, like, um, certifications, bonding, and insurance. Honestly, though, I could not be less worried about it.

A confession: It has not been that long since I received a gift “from Santa.” And, depending on attendance levels at family holiday dinners, I am still occasionally seated at the kids’ table. I’m 30 years old.

I make this confession to illustrate the incongruity in my mind with the fact that I am hosting Thanksgiving this year. My condo will be filled to the max with one branch of my family tree, and there will be a turkey in my new oven and a buffet on my new bar. I am thrilled to have one major event to cap off all the work I have done over the last several months, but wow, the pressure is on to make this apartment shine!

This week was big in fixer-upper land: Despite being swamped at work and feeling generally blah about starting a new project, I purchased my first bathroom-related item.

It wasn’t easy. When you aren’t excited about renovating, spending money on home improvement feels like getting socks and underwear for Christmas.

So nobody was more surprised than I was at the thrill I felt when ripping open that box. It wasn’t even a fancy or unique purchase, but it somehow got me back to the level of excitement I needed to get this process moving again. As I described in a previous post, I have a system for creating a design, and with the help of my new-found enthusiasm, I got to it.

That first purchase was the medicine cabinet. I think it may be the very definition boring, but I went with it for two reasons. First, I like that it doesn’t stick out from the wall. Even among recessed cabinets, many jut out to show off fancy design elements. Secondly, unlike my first choice, it was not out of stock.

The second purchase was the light fixture. Are you noticing a theme? Yes, they are both from Pottery Barn. I am tempted to lie and say I found them at a fabulous nearby antique shop or on Craigslist. Getting a bunch of fixtures from Pottery Barn does feel a little bit like selecting a tattoo design of a yin yang sign. But I gotta hand it to the old PB—I just liked their stuff best, and medicine cabinets and wall sconces aren’t really where I want to make a big statement. Not that I’m defensive or anything.

There is a show on HGTV (a minor addiction of mine) called “My House is Worth What?” Experts assess a  renovation and determine whether a homeowner’s $90,000 landscape project or $10,000 leather floors added to the home’s value. The point is to figure out how much equity homeowners have, so that they can get a loan to start a new project or trade up to a nicer place.

I was watching one of these programs when it dawned on me that I could have my own version of that show. So I called my real estate agent, who agreed to come by and play “Daphne’s Condo is Worth What?”

Confession: This is the blog post that I have dreaded the most. The truth is, I don’t want to tell you about all of the mistakes I have made in my bathroom. I suppose I should be glad that I confined most of my mistakes to the smallest room in the apartment, but it is also a room that is impossible to hide.

More painful than telling you about all of my bonehead errors, though, is actually revealing a photo of a hideous room that I have systematically uglified over the last year. That’s not to say I liked how it looked when I bought my place, but at least it was whole.

My first action as a homeowner was to yank the medicine cabinet off the wall. It was a clunky piece that stuck out several inches, and it was oddly matched with a wooden toilet seat, which I replaced with a white one. Where the medicine cabinet once hung, I put up a too-small mirror I happened to have. It was supposed to be temporary.

Then came my first foray into paint. I always fancied myself the kind of decorator who would go for bold and bright colors. As I poured over dozens of magazines, I couldn’t resist the trendy chocolate brown walls I saw everywhere. Then, in a misguided attempt to soften the look, I painted the ceiling pale pink.

The most time-consuming part of my renovation was not finding a contractor, creating a design plan, or even building the new kitchen. The part that slowed me down the most came down to one question: What do I want?

In most cases, homeowners are inspired to renovate by what they loathe about their current homes, not necessarily by their visions of the future. And although any of us can decide whether we love or hate a room when it’s in front of us, that’s a far cry from adding new cabinets, counters, paint, blacksplash and appliances to a blank canvas. Where do you begin?

First, I hit the decorating magazines, and I hit ‘em hard.  I probably spent hundreds of dollars amassing a library of what are basically picture books. Anytime I found something I liked, I tore it out. I didn’t analyze why I liked it, or which detail attracted me to the photo.

I did that with everything from furniture to bathroom soaps to paint colors to countertops. After I had a pretty tall stack of magazine clippings, I glued them into a photo album. The process felt fairly geeky, and I wouldn’t be admitting it to you now if there hadn’t been such a pay off in the end.

I grouped things in the album so, for example, I had a page of couches and a page of kitchens. After a while, themes became obvious. I found that I loved open shelves, white kitchens, natural wood, staggered-subway-tile backsplashes, tufted couches, and bright punches of color. I learned that white tiles that are also grouted white look like they belong in a grade school bathroom, and that I preferred almost any light to the overhead fixtures in most kitchens.