I’m pretty sure I mentioned months ago our decision to renovate my bathroom and bedroom. Things got a little off track what with R Man’s open heart surgery and my new found fascination with that video of the OK Go band where they do synchronized routines on treadmills, but now we’re cooking baby. Mostly we had to wait for Jose, the world’s greatest contractor, to work us into his schedule.
Jose did such a spectacular job on R Man’s bathroom two years ago that we never considered anyone else for this one. Mine is much simpler than R Man’s, where we tore out walls and moved plumbing. This time, I’m just ripping out (I love the verbs renovation allows you) the funky old cabinet and fake marble counter and the dull, dull, dull tiles around the tub. Also, I was determined to remove the cheesy vinyl sheet flooring which couldn’t have expressed “Discount Closeout Crap” more clearly if the dusty rose and baby blue swirls had actually spelled those words out.
The first day was the always thrilling demolition. I am not one of those queens who wants to hang around and watch, plus it’s too noisy. BLAMBLAMBLAMBLAM. We let Jose and his guy in and went off to work. When we got home, tile, floor, cabinet and hideous counter were all in a tidy little pile in the garage. Since then things have whizzed right along. Tasteful new downlights, the most gorgeous white marble tile ever and now, new paint, a beautiful rosy pink. Not that insipid pale pink, not harsh bubble gum, not the creepy shade of Barbie’s breast, oh no. This is like Jackie O’s delicate bits.
The bathroom is actually two separate rooms, one big one with the sink (that’s the pink room) and a smaller one with the tub and toilet, which I’ve painted a buttery cream to go with the bee-you-tiful jade, aqua, sapphire glass tiles around the tub.
Everyone always has plenty of horror stories about reno nightmares, but so far, we haven’t had anything like that. Jose is calm and sweet and very patient and never makes a big deal about how little we know about construction. Plus every day when we come home, we get to see the progress. It’s like being in our very own decorating show. We should be finished by this time next week, maybe even as soon as this weekend. Hoo hoo. I’m looking forward to it. R man is everything you could want from a boyfriend when it comes to sharing his bathroom, but I’m accustomed to my own space. And also, going downstairs to pee in the middle of the night, when I don’t want to wake R Man up, is a drag. Give me back my toilet, that’s what I say.