How deep is your red?

Errata: for those of you who haven't checked the dragon*con website lately, Godhead and Voltaire have been added to the lineup. I'm pleased. I've never managed to catch any of Voltaire's legendarily-funny dragon*con shows, so hopefully I'll be able to make time to see him this year. Godhead is fantastic to crew for. They're respectful and friendly to tech staff, and just a genuine pleasure to work with. I'm with Jody on this one; I wouldn't be surprised if they're a Saturday headliner, and I certainly would be happy with the choice if they were.

I am now on day 3000 of bathroom-painting. While all scientific evidence indicates that I'm on the first leg of painting a Möbius strip, I continue to persist. After a day of searching, I realized this morning that I had actually dropped the itty-bitty towel-bar-holding screw into an interdimensional time warp.

I convinced it to come back this morning. I quickly put the towel bar back up before it could change its mind.

Day 3000 of painting was also the most disturbing of the lot so far. Balancing a ladder in a tub and a domesticat on the ladder with a paint can in her hand is a recipe that just begged, soufflé-like, for disaster. So far, all disasters have been averted. As long as you don't count that nice long finger-shaped smear of blue paint in the bathtub a disaster. It'll come off with a bit of scrubbing, anyway. (Sotto voce to Jeff: it's not permanent, I swear!)

Day 3001 will involve my least favorite chore of this project: sweeping up the nasty bits of ex-wallpaper, confining the entropy to garbage bags, and making the room habitable again. The cats have filed a complaint with the Feline Board requesting clarification on why their room has been turned into a mess of old wallpaper, painting implements, and general disorder.

Every time they walk into the guest bathroom to eat, they glare at me. I expect retribution forthwith.

After entropy is contained, I hope to move the shower curtains back from the guest bedroom, where they're currently living. They've been getting awful chummy with those sweaters I bought a few weeks ago. Honestly, those shower curtains really don't need to be spending the night in there unchaperoned. Who knows what those naughty sweaters will do when I'm not around to keep an eye on their licentious behavior?

With that, I must tackle the other task hanging over my head: the refrigerator. We can hear muffled protest marches from behind the door, which does not bode well. We've apparently left food in there so long that they've completed the move from autonomous unicellular organisms to a collective system of government, and the government's been in charge so long that they've got protesters.

From what we can tell, they're yelling something about it being wrong to go to war with the organisms from the nearby stove. Those radical cold-dwelling youth think their elders' plan to conquer the heat-loving organisms from the stove is wrong. Something about freedom and justice for all, no matter what your temperature preference is.

Sad, really. I've let the fridge go for so long that my food has a better governmental system than the one I'm living in out here. Perhaps I should move into my own refrigerator. It would save the problem of figuring out how to paint the master bathroom.

"Not so hard," you say? Surprise! Between ignoring the howls of protest from the felines and the howls of protest coming from the suburban neighborhoods in the fridge, I tiptoed off to Home Despot to purchase sundry goods and items. (I have no idea how the paint chips came home with me, really, Jeff!)

I was lucky today; I found a clueful paint-section employee who reminded me that red paint requires many, many coats to achiveve the desired redness. Supposedly, red paint has a serious transparency issue, and it can take up to five or six coats to achieve the originally-intended color. With a tinted primer coat, rumor has it that only about two coats will be required.

Fewer coats, and that lovely "Cherry Cobbler" color from Behr you were looking at looks like a newly-strangled pink. Not good. Perhaps this guest bathroom project will take a little longer than I originally expected.

Tomorrow: war on all fronts. Down with entropy! Down with autocratic systems of refrigerator government! Up with figuring out how to paint behind toilets! Up with making the cats accept their new room! Up with scrubbing all the blue out of the crevices of my nails!

Well, a girl can hope, anyway.

Current music: Voltaire, "Sexy Data Tango." Its tone explains much about this post. If you want to hear it for yourself, go to Pick 'Banned On Vulcan' from under 'Music,' and scroll down to the bottom of the page. Grab your own copy there. Not for those incapable of laughing at Star Trek or those under 18. Offer void in some areas. Check your warranty for details.

No, I'm not above riffing on Jonatha Brooke's song titles for entry titles. I have no idea why you'd think otherwise!


Three-Quarter Ale has also been added to the D*Con roster. They'll be playing Thursday night and are well worth catching.

Too. Many. Paint. FUMES!

Loved the Voltaire tracks. Very funny indeed!