Bring on the Dancing...
Eliza Dushku, Boy Meets Girl, A-ha!, Erasure and Kon Kan
Am thinking about Eliza Dushku and how, well, hot she looked in several swimsuits in a movie I recently saw on cable.
Am also listening to some eighties music right now. Y'see, my girlfriend and I are firmly rooted in the eighties. Plus, she has a married older brother who avidly collects eighties memorabilla.
Music! I begin to see from where my first conflicts with my future offspring will begin. Note to self: overdose kids with eighties music (my old man did something similar to me) so we can listen to music in the house without arguing. But I'm digressing.
It's All About Plaster
Am listening to eighties music and thinking about Eliza Dushku partly as a reward for finding a filler for cracked plaster. The plaster surface coating one pillar, supporting the second floor of my house, has broken away in ugly chunks. Before any sacred wallpaper can be applied to said pillar with impunity, the resultant scab had to be treated, else said sacred wallpaper would look, well, profane. I didn't want to pay some construction guy to do the job, so in typical male fashion, I went about fixing the thing myself.
Air hardening clay, I found, was too brittle when it dried. It too, fell away in ugly chunks-- all of the three times I tried to use it. The process took away seven hours of my day. I found out too late that I needed some sort of mold to use plater of paris with. I'd already bought a kilo of the stuff when I remembered that my years of experience with plaster equalled zip. I had no idea how to make a mold for vertical scabs. It occured to my sister that maybe using Vulca-seal might be a good idea. But the audacious idea had occured to her when all the hardware stores were closed This was hour eight.
Eureka... sort of
Hour ten. I wound up using paper. Newsprint to fill the scab and more newsprint to smooth out the bumps. It did occur to me that I had a bucketful of glue handy for some instant papier mache. Away went the scab, and on went the sacred wallpaper. Looks like I got to use that college education after all. That and lot of dead horses.
Now back to listening to Boy Meets Girl and daybreaming about Eliza Dushku...