becky haycox

Month: April 2012

  • bathroom redesign 03

    [want to read from the beginning about my bathroom redesign? then click this post!]

    steam

    Things that confound and confuse me during this endless bathroom redesign:

    • How do I wear a mask without my glasses fogging up?
    • Why is the pouring of the paint from the can to the tray the most awkward, messy, lame experience? Why hasn’t this been troubleshot generations ago?

    Things I’m grateful for:

    • The dumpster at my place of work
    • My amazing friends, Jeanie and Carla — the “handy friends” mentioned throughout this process. They are clever, experienced, patient, and kind. And have lots of tools!
    • The hot dog stand outside of the home improvement store; often, it’s the only way I can motivate myself to spend yet more time and money in that godforsaken place.

    Untitled

    Go and get some grout and then you can have a meaty treat.

    Remember when I complained about how messy painting was? Tiling a floor is like painting, except instead of paint everywhere you have a sticky, mortar-like adhesive everywhere that must be quickly wiped off. And instead of a simple plan (prep, paint) there are complexities (cutting tiles to fit weird spaces) and complications (tiles break instead of being cut, weird angles, NEVER enough tile bought).

    adhesive on my feet

    Adhesive treats on my feets!

    This stuff gets everywhere. Everywhere.

    Bathroom redesign -- the floor

    Laying out, trying to minimize weird angles to cut. Not a good idea to step on the tiles in this state. Crack!

    Bathroom redesign -- the floor

    Scoring/cutting device decided to break tile instead. Crack! Getting closer to another trip to the home improvement store!

    It’s not like it’s the most complex task in the world, but it’s just so chaotic, chaos with a ticking clock. Jeanie did a very good job of keeping me moving, keeping me from going catatonic and/or loony.

    Bathroom redesign -- the floor

    And then, just like that, it starting looking like this.

    Bathroom redesign -- the floor

    I know, right? Just like my most beautiful dream.

    Oh, but so not done. We’ve got odd-size tile cutting, more adhesive, then grout, then caulk.. then.. then..

    Bathroom redesign -- the floor

    I think I’ve decided to keep the toilet out of the room and just do my business in this hole.

    Then of course there’s the matter of my prison shower. But I may have a solution: as long as I don’t ever open my eyes when facing north while in my bathroom, I’m totally cool. Let’s go with that.

    Update: and here we sit, broken hearted. There’s been a delay in progress, due to Jeanie and a rhinovirus colliding hard. Two-week delay, at least! Here’s hoping that we can get grouty soon!

    Master Timeline (new and improved)

    1. Remove hardware and buy replacement hardware (knobs, TP  holder, hook, curtain rod, towel rod, switchplate, shelves)
    2. Paint drawers and cabinets, walls
    3. Replace hardware  (knobs, TP  holder, hook, curtain rod, towel rod, switchplate, shelves)
    4. Rip up carpeting, assess what kind of prep floor needs for tiling (handy friends will help)
    5. Remove toilet (handy friends will help)
    6. Purchase last round of expensive crap for the floor (adhesive, threshold, seal, grout)
    7. Tile floor (handy friends will lend tools and set me started)
    8. Touch up drawers, seal
    9. Grout tile
    10. Install baseboards
    11. Install new toilet (again with the handy friends)
    12. Seal tile
    13. Buy material, make curtains
    14. Artwork and decor
    15. Figure out an affordable way to make shower stall look better (replace glass only?)
    16. Have shower stall power cleaned (hire expert — they use acid!)

    Previous bathroom posts:

     

  • straight shot

    straight shot

    I am heading to Phoenix, Arizona tomorrow in order to visit a couple friends and to check out the Phoenix Improv Festival. I’m flying out and driving back. Why? Thank to a hot tip from the Boyf, Hertz is offering $5/day rental cars if you’re traveling from Phoenix to California these days.

    I guess cars get built up on Phoenix this time of year, not sure why. It’s much like the buildup of sunglasses at my office during winter/early spring. It’s sunny when I commute in the morning, but dark when I leave, so the shades get forgotten. I recently showed my friend Dave (much to his amusement) the unbelievable stash I unearthed from my desk — including two identical pairs (but I only bought one pair! are they replicating?)

    Untitled

    See? Perhaps something is similar with the cars. I don’t know. I don’t care. I just wanted to write a blog post. I miss having things to blog about, things that aren’t bathroom- or sad stuff- related.

    In other (sort of connected?) news, this week has been Project Becky Week. The stressful cloud under which I’ve been living has taken a toll on my self care, which I kind of knew, but didn’t realize the extent to which I’d slid. That is, until I saw a video of myself from late last year, with a new cut and color and looking very fit and dewy and rested and .. uuuhhh. So hairs have been removed and/or colored and/or chopped, adequate sleep has been obtained, laundry done, exfoliation completed, walks taken, etc. I’ve also reached out to an organization dedicated to caregiver support, Talked It Though with some friends (not to mention Wept Hard on Boyf’s Shoulder), and basically tried to get my mental ducks in gear. I know that’s not the right saying. Bear with me. Bears in gear? Bears in a row?

    in a row.

    IMG_2766

    So yeah. I’m not out of the woods yet, stress cloud speaking, but I am looking forward to being away, gawping at saguaros, clapping at some improv, squeezing friends. See you Monday.

  • two inspiring men

    Last night I watched, raptly, Absolute Wilson — the documentary about Robert Wilson, the singular artist. I hadn’t given him much thought lately (no fault of his), but the graceful clumsiness and gorgeous weirdness of his stage pieces felt so delicious and fresh and exciting to my weary eyes.

    As I continue to interact with humans whose brains are wired in an infinite variety of ways, I appreciate how he’s been to develop new languages (almost always non-verbal) with people that need other languages in which to express themselves (just like him). Fascinating and exciting.

    Click the pic at the top to read an interesting essay on Wilson.

    Onto the next inspiring gent. I’m a little late to “Caine’s Arcade,” as I tend to avoid anything that contains the concepts “viral” or “flash mob,” but it’s worth it, oh how it’s worth it. I mean, a kid who DIYs a game arcade out of cardboard, we can just stop there, that’s the coolest. The video is cute and there are tears commanded out of the watcher, but I also feel a little sad, and not just at the loneliness of a 9-year old, or the implied financial straits the family appears to be in. It’s the sadness at knowing that this kind of unbounded creativity is rare here in the US anymore. I remember DIYing my entire entertainment life when I was that age — building a clubhouse, using my dad’s typewriter to create a magazine, creating a circus, a play, an elaborate alternate persona. That was just how it was done, right? Or at least for neglected sort-of only children?

    I also cringe at the flash mob, the news team, the song written about the arcade. It’s the same way I feel about tourism — the desire to connect with something interesting is the very thing that can ruin it.

    But that’s just me, being a curmudgeon. Caine has a scholarship now, and presumably is unburdened by the bigger issues his sudden popularity brings up. To my tortured brain, at least.

    And instead of overanalyzing, I’ll just take away the extreme excitement — and incitement — I get by watch people create, create, create, because they have to.

  • bathroom redesign 02

    It is the end of the second weekend of bathroom shenanananigans (see part one here) and I am pleased at my progress, appalled at the time/mess/expense of this project, in awe at how very filthy I am, and a little curious as to when, exactly, it all will end.

    i'm not a neat freak, just a freak

    Did I mention there’s a toilet in my shower?

    Things I’ve learned so far:

    • Painting is exhausting, dirty, and time consuming. Prep work, the endless prep work, is the one thing that has brought me to tears (so far). More on that in a bit.
    • Until it’s over, I will be in a constant, continual loop from my home to the home improvement store then back again.
    • Bathroom cabinets can cost up to $4,500!

    Enough of that. How about some before pictures?

    before!

    Small, carpeted, not nice. Prison-like shower stall behind the door at left.

    before!

    Water wasting toilet, cheapo storage and accessories, disgusting carpet.

    before!

    Prison shower.

    before!

    Sad, filthy, horrible.

    disgusting carpeting IN THE BATHROOM

    As Apartment Therapy puts it “There are very few home décor choices to which we are absolutely one hundred percent opposed in every case, but wall-to-wall carpet in the bathroom is one of them.” PS, the white rug is hiding a huge hair dye stain.

    before!IMG_0238

    Huge, dumb, old drawers and counter. And disgusting carpet.

    The drawers got the treatment first.

    painted vanity, new hardware

    Better! But there is going to be hours of touch up.

    casualty -- painters tape sometimes does not work

    Like this. Painter’s tape sometimes does not work, sometimes it likes to rip off your paint.

    endless paint prep

    Wall paint prep begins after wall scrubdown (with TSP). Frustrating part of the process, this is where the overwhelmedness started.

    can't get it out

    Stupid screw stuck in wall and no way to get it out with the tools at hand. Deeply annoyed at the sloppiness of previous work and installation.

    ew

    Gross and crumbly. I kept discovering more and more cut corners, slapdash work, bad choices. The room is like a high-turnover rental unit.

    i took out the medicine cabinet, ew

    I took out the medicine chest (ew) but am putting it back, since, as I discovered, recessed medicine cabinets with any style at all are kill-me expensive.

    i get to use a crowbar!

    Trying to get the baseboards off pushed me over the edge. Tearily making a phone call to my handy friends, they reassured me and promised to come over the next day and lend a hand.

    Calmer, I proceeded to do the only 100% fun thing of this ordeal. I ripped out the carpet!

    carpet ripup

    Old, OLD linoleum underneath.

    goodbye lino

    Level subflooring under the lino. Score!

    The next day, my dear handy friends came over, ripped out the rest of the baseboards, pulled up the tackboard and lino, and removed the toilet. And then put it in my shower.

    carla and jeanie get destructo

    They were amazing. This would have been a very rocky and/or expensive phase if not for these fantastic friends.

    We made an plan to have one of the handy friends to come over on Wednesday and show me how to get started with the tiling.

    Tiling already! Indeed, the room is totally painted, with my very own paws. I’d take another picture, but seriously, these paws are sorer than they ever have been. So SO much spackling and sanding and prying and twisting and rolling and brushing. For those of you to whom a project like this is a no-brainer weekend trifle, I salute you with my gnarled hand. And then I ask you to come over and help me already.

    what have i gotten myself into

    Master Timeline (new and improved)

    1. Remove hardware and buy replacement hardware (knobs, TP  holder, hook, curtain rod, towel rod, switchplate, shelves)
    2. Paint drawers and cabinets, walls
    3. Replace hardware  (knobs, TP  holder, hook, curtain rod, towel rod, switchplate, shelves)
    4. Rip up carpeting, assess what kind of prep floor needs for tiling (handy friends will help)
    5. Remove toilet (handy friends will help)
    6. Purchase last round of expensive crap for the floor (adhesive, threshold, seal, grout)
    7. Tile floor (handy friends will lend tools and set me started)
    8. Touch up drawers, seal
    9. Grout tile
    10. Install baseboards
    11. Install new toilet (again with the handy friends)
    12. Seal tile
    13. Buy material, make curtains
    14. Artwork and decor
    15. Figure out an affordable way to make shower stall look better (replace glass only?)
    16. Have shower stall power cleaned (hire expert — they use acid!)

    Previous bathroom post:

  • best headline and soundbites ever, says the 11-year-old trapped in my brain

    robotfishfart

    Robot Records Fish Farts

    thanks to my friend stacy for posting this day-maker on facebook

  • bathroom redesign 01

    I’ve groused about my horrible bathroom in which I must bathe. Up till this point, I hadn’t done a lot except to grouse because I honestly didn’t know where to begin — I think “bathroom remodel” and immediately think “ten thousand dollars” or “nightmare for months” or “screwed by our contractor”.

    But now it begins, with minimal budget and even less know-how. I will post progress intermittently, for my own memory’s sake and for the sake of the approximately zero people who read my blog who are interested in half-assing a bathroom makeover with a very small amount of resources.

    This house is going on the market as soon as the situation with the Elderly Relative changes dramatically, so it’s not a bad idea to freshen up the rooms as best I can. I have a suspicion that carpeted bathrooms, ginormous water-guzzling toilets, and decades of indifference (to paint, decor, or updating) are any kinds of selling points for the modern house-hunting retiree.

    “Freshening up” is about the best I can hope for; besides, I imagine that the new owners will probably want to do some wall-bustin’ renovations — the “master bathroom” is unbelievably small, and the general layout of the house could use some major rejiggering.

    I made a list of stuff that may be within my realm of possibility:

    • Rip out that nightmare carpeting and replace with tile
    • Replace that guzzling toilet
    • Rip out the disgusting shower stall — replace with new glass doors and wall tiling
    • Replace giant vanity and replace with smart little sink cabinet
    • Paint, paint, paint
    • Curtains, new hardware

    I put the word out to friends to see if there were any handy types that would be interested in helping me out, and got a couple bites. However, I was still at a loss as to how this thing happens. If I can’t rip out and replace the shower stall; so what were my options then? What comes first, the tiling or toilet replacement?

    Two fortuitous events occurred over the past couple weeks. First, my brother Pete passed through town. He used to be a contractor. I begged him to give me 10 minutes to look at the bathroom and make recommendations. He said that my list was on the right track — these changes would be the most aesthetically and financially appealing to buyers. However, the shower stall and vanity replacements were going to be prohibitive; he told me to grit my teeth and bear the horrible fake gold-flecked marble of the shower stall and vanity counter. So plan B for the shower: have the stall power cleaned, and replace the glass shower doors. Fair enough!

    The second fortuitous thing was a dinner with two very handy friends. They were full of info, offered to lend equipment, help on key components and the timing. Score! So here’s my updated list, now with a timeline:

    1. Remove hardware and buy replacement hardware
    2. Paint drawers and cabinets, walls
    3. Replace hardware
    4. Rip up carpeting, assess what kind of prep floor needs for tiling (handy friends will help)
    5. Remove toilet (handy friends will help)
    6. Tile floor (handy friends will lend tools and set me started)
    7. Install new toilet (again with the handy friends)
    8. Replace shower doors (hire expert?)
    9. Have shower stall power cleaned (hire expert — they use acid!)

    With timeframe and plan in place, I got to have a little bit of fun..

    …pinning the hell out of interesting ideas on Pinterest…

    bathroom sturf

    …making lots of notes and measurements (just like a grownup!) and picking out swatches …

    Untitled

    … and taking a mass of before pictures (to come!)

    Now that this Man Has A Plan, it has become extra-unbearable, this horrible bathroom. Not only because I’ve begun some prep work and painting, so there’s heaps of disorganization everywhere, but the two things that have always been deep irritants (carpeting and shower stall) have started feeling on the level of living nightmare. When I’m confined and showering in this corroded stall surrounded with cheap wavy glass shot through with a wire grid, I can almost hear a warden shriek “your two minutes are up, jailbird!”

    PS: New numbers just in. Oh holy heck how do THEY get away with charging so much to redesign a shower stall? Prices start at $650?

  • get it straight, america!

    get it straight, america

  • grim

    Things are extremely hard over here. My friend is working hard fighting her illness, but it’s advancing. Those of us involved in her care are scrambling to try to get the next steps planned and provide maximum support and comfort. Without a crystal ball, the next hours, weeks, months are a big blank question mark.

    Stressful, mundane, oddly beautiful, wretched, irritating, deeply scary. All of that, plus an infinite quantity of everything else.

    The small group of friends that are the support system are in it for the duration. We are in a circle, arms locked, leaning into it, towards it. It’s death, but it’s also life. Burning, glorious, fearful in its magnitude — this unblinking confrontation grows our capacity to love, to understand.

    But I can’t contemplate this vastness. It’s survival mode, baby. And so we go.