...Those who feel color, and those who do not. My husband is one of those people who doesn't feel color. In fact, I know, without him reading the previous sentence, that such a statement makes no sense to him.
But me. I feel color. Colors have the ability to make or break my mood. And it is easy to forget that other people don't feel this.
I bring this up because one of the times my husband and I moved, he had seen the house prior to us moving in, and I had not. He had told me the house needed a little bit of work, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. The house, I was told, had very good bones.
So we drive across five states, spending over half a day in the car, and we arrive at the 1909 farmhouse which we now own. It's dark, we are tired, it's been a long several days of the moving process.
We walk inside, and...
It's pure horror. The interior paint in several of the rooms is what I can only describe as crusty urine. It's overly yellow, with streaks of brown. We find a paint catalogue left on the kitchen counter for us. The color is a special order Eddie Bauer paint. And it was so special, they didn't just paint the walls with it, they painted the ceilings too.
And I realize, I am in a farmhouse where many, many people went crazy. There is no other reason one would maliciously coat every surface in this streaky color.
People went crazy here. I could feel it.
And I am immediately overwhelmed into tears. This, of course, makes my husband very uneasy, and we spend the night upstairs where there is not a single drop of Eddie Bauer paint.
The next day, an electrician comes to the house. He comes inside and declares the house to be rock solid and an awesome find. Another worker comes over and congratulates my husband on snapping up such an amazing house.
When they leave, I ask my husband if he thinks these contractors even noticed the fact the ceilings and walls were painted a crazy-inducing shade of bodily excrement. He tells me of course they didn't.
And I am left to wonder, did the previous painters of this house choose the color because they thought making their farmhouse look distressed would make it more fashionable? Or did they let their farmhouse fall into just enough disrepair that it actually became distressed, and therefore allegedly fashionable? And I say fashionable meaning cheugy without remorse.
And then I realize, either option resulted in the same thing - a very distressed house, where people might have told you they were living, and laughing, and loving, but really they were going totally mad.
We spent two days painting the ceilings. Fun fact, you can't do a single coat over crusty urine and think you've cleaned it all up. No it takes, gallons and gallons of white paint to erase it.
We spent several more days painting the walls, and finally, we eradicated all of the crusty urine from the house. We decided to go out for lunch to celebrate.
We got to a local cafe we'd been told was good. We ordered and found a table. We sat down and I realized, the walls were the same special order, Eddie Bauer, crusty urine as what I had just removed from my house with prejudice.
Maybe saying there are two types of people in this world isn't exact enough. Maybe, 99.9% of people find Eddie Bauer paints acceptable, and then there's me-the .1% who does not.