Here we are downtown, buying electrical items. You can't just search around for the thing you want, unfortunately; you have to ask for it. Describe it somehow. In French. Which, even if you're a very good French speaker (which Eric is), you still might not know the word for 'dimmer,' or 'switchplate.'
We also found the paint store! Well, let's go! Make this white-walled house a home! So,the guy says, you buy this here bucket of white paint, and then you buy the pigments you want and just mix it up! To which I said, ha ha ha ha ah ha haha. We had to mix our own paints in 8th grade art class, and I specifically remember each time ending up with this hideous brown puke color. It's hard! The man seemed to notice our doubtfuul expressions. He said, "For example, if you want grey, you just add some black tint." Oh! (Funny thing is, he told my friend Amber the same thing.)
We did mix our own colors and came up with a very pretty taupe. Then we pained the room. Two hours later, all the paint had been absorbed into the wall and disappeared. Undaunted (well, okay a little daunted), we applied a second coat. Same thing. The cleaning lady came to work on Monday and I said, "Look! We painted the room!" She looked, looked at me, was quiet for a second, and then said, "Are you sure?"
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