I'd Like to Thank Necessity

I promise to post the how-to for my Sigh painting next week. But first I need to graciously accept a blog award!

Getting a blog award like this is so fan-frickin-tastic, especially when it comes from a blogger whose blog I heart. Leslie, from Fabulously Flawed, sent me some blog love by passing on a Kreativ Blogger award! So you lucky ducks get to learn three new things about me (click here for my Stylish Blogger award acceptance post - thanks again, Amy!) Good golly. A few more of these and I will have absolutely nothing new to tell you.

Here are three tales from my creative past.

Story Number One
In high school, I hit my dad's van with my Dodge Colt (that Hubby & I painted ourselves - seriously) while backing out of our driveway. I knocked his taillight out. Panicked, I picked up all of the pieces and artfully arranged them around his van at his work place the next day which, not coincidentally, was my high school. Strange, it's like my parents thought I needed supervision. We had driven together that day, so I witnessed him examine the damage and curse teenage drivers, not guessing that the culprit was yours truly. When I told him the truth a few years ago he was crushed, but had to admire my creativity.

My partner in crime: Charlie

Story Number Two
This one is actually representative of the mad props that Hubby deserves. After a painfully bad haircut (think super, super wispy short hair), I took matters into my own hands. Hubby & I starting cutting my hair! At first the plan was to just grow out the horrid hatchet job, but then I started to dig the messy, choppy look and rocked DIY'd hair for years. Some days when my long hair gets caught in the blow-dryer, in the car door and then inside my purse when I zip it up too quickly, I think about handing Hubby the scissors.

You've been warned, hair.

Story Number Three
When my parents repainted their stucco home years ago my mom was looking at some baby-poo ochre-yellow paint swatches which, in hindsight, were gorgeous and muted. I convinced her (how, mom, how?) to paint the house school bus yellow instead. Why she took advice from a teen with a lime green car, I know not. Boy, was it bright. But, silver lining, when our house was egged (my dad's a high school teacher remember) the egg just blended right in. The house is now a striking pale grey with a cinnamon-y front door and crisp white trim.