Don’t Believe All the Skype

Howdy all!

Thanks for your patience as I reacquaint myself  with blogland I took an inadvertent leave of absence after I left my camera at RyGuy’s.  I will for sure address that fateful day though I am the good majority of you read the racous recap over by Homegirl’s way. But for today I will be recounting my recent home improvement themed  Sunday with le Minn Twin since I left you all hanging with the FANTASTIC teaser pic on the previous post.

Childhood friend Brittania and I spent the balance of Saturday day volunteering with New York Cares, an organization that organizes service projects through out the five burroughs of NYC.  We got our Van Gogh on at P.S 19 a public grade school in Brooklyn by painting a decorative mural in the school yard.

Look how gorgeous that “1″ is. It really was a labor of love for Brittania and me.

The children ARE the future. . .

After some hot showers and dinner,  Brittania and I planned on reverting to childhood with a late viewing of “Where the Wild Things Are” and movie candy.  While we were standing in line with hipsters, and hipsters dressed as ‘Wild Things’ I received a text from Minn Twin asking if we could embark on part deux of le makeover; we had started on the closet and were making prodigious progress but he had requested we use my Martha Stewart skillz and makeover his cool Brooklyn abode. I was of course game.

While standing in line, I had agreed to meet him at his apartment bright and early Sunday morning to embark on our new project.

Come Sunday morning, tres early, he was probably a little unsure of my arrival time since I had agreed to show up at his apartment at an hour than can only be described as “ungodly.” On a Sunday no less.

To ensure my attendance he attempted to technologically lure me. . .

I guess it is a vast improvement from the Minn Twin text in this post.

But fear not! I arrived on time and cranky as hell to bear witness to Minn Twin being Minn Twin, as always. I guess it’s comforting to know that regardless of the hour, he will always be 79% OCD. He created an itemized list of all the painting supplies we would need to complete the un-daunting task of painting two rooms in a New York apartment.

As fastidious as he may be, Minn Twin made a glaring omission from our “to get” list. It’s a good thing I’m on board because this whole operation would have been a massive FAIL had I not remembered this highly important detail. . .

After one questionable bus ride we arrived at man mecca and manned with Minn Twin’s list and a full liter of caffeine I found the will to shop.

Who am I kidding I could be shot in the stomach and I would find the will to shop.

Minn Twin’s sensible roommate, Minn Twin, and I roamed up and down the pain aisles systematically checking things off the ever important list.

But not before he got mad at me for letting it get crinkled in my purse.

It’s just PAPER!!

This was just the first of many disagreements we would encounter.  . .

Eggshell vs Flat:

Flat wins.

Whether or not Minn Twin is the strongest man in the world?

Rest of the world wins.

Who’s caulk is bigger?

A draw.

This was just all the set up before the biggest argument of the day. Painbrushgate 2009. Minn Twin being the ever particular guy he is, with a penchant for the finer things in life wasting money thought it necessary to splurge on a paintbrush. I pragmatically disagreed by asking him when he was planning on starting his professional painting business and/or when his exhibition  at the Louvre was going to open. He was immune to my logic and decided to spend THIRTEEN of his hard earned banking dollars on a paintbrush. A paintbrush he would use ONCE.

I on the other hand attempted to offset his spendiness with some frugality.

Before he threatened to lock me in the spray paint cage and leave me there if I had even ONE THOUGHT of painting his hallowed walls with a $0.79 paintbrush. So we cut the difference and roommate bought a  more sensible $9.00 brush.

And there was the eternal battle of color. The whole reason I was lured out of my bed at 7am on a Sunday with no promise of brunch, was to pick a respectable, masculine, sophisticated color for the Minn Twin and his roommate. And in typical Minn Twin fashion, there was a whole lot of marinating over my decision of “Steeple Gray“

But finally he gave into the powers of the Asian and agreed.  Happily packed and purchased we headed back t his apartment to start the makeover process. But not before I surveyed the bedroom and spied this. . .

I was about to tell him that I have no idea why I was commissioned to help with this home project when clearly he has a wife hidden away somewhere since it appears that under his bed is a registry full of wedding gifts. But by the time I finally found him to ask him WTF a crock pot is doing under his bed I spied something even more worrisome.

Umm . . b’excuse me?

Minn Twin decided it was prudent to take inventory of all the items that were purchased and laid them out in the foyer for easy access. So after all this it was FINALLY time to start painting.

I could write tomes about Minn Twin’s fastidious paint “technique” a tiresome and grueling process that requires perfectly even, heavy handed vertical strokes with the roller only to be immediately followed with a slight pass of a ($13) paintbrush symmetrically done in panels all over the walls. But instead I will show you. . .

Four hours later. . .

37 hours later. . .

Nine Light Years Away . . .

Finally! Great Success! Famished and tired like a Nike factory worker, Minn Twin decided to make good on his promise and took me out to dinner at the charming French bistro across the street. So I changed out of my fancy painting outfit

And into some real clothes for some real food.

Minn Twin started the meal off with a celebratory bottle of Syrah and moved into a crazy delicious beef stew – a celebration on it’s own.

I had an unpictured hanger steak au poivre. And while typically I wouldn’t consider neither the Minn Twin or me as “dessert people” he was feeling a hankering for something sweet so we headed to his  nearest bodega to answer the call of his mostly dormant sweet tooth.

Personally my vote would have been for ice cream but nothing gets between the Minn Twin and his Entemanns.

Nothing also gets between the Minn Twin and his bodega worker’s bromance.

Not even a half pound of Alpine Lace Swiss.

One box of chocolate chip cookies later and a Tivo’d episode of Saturday Night Live Minn Twin uttered the best words I’ve ever heard him say. “It’s time for the weekly Skype session with my parents.”

Now, I have known the Minn Twin for about two and half years now and in that time I have heard amazing stories about his lovely Minnesota parents, both of whom were beloved grade school teachers. He lauds their kindness and regales me with hilarious anecdotes. Stories like the time they dressed up baloons in custom made t-shirts for a special “Twins Birthday Edition” Skype session.

**Please note the bowtie**

So when Minn Twin offered me the opportunity to sit in on the Skype session I nearly wet my balloon person pants. Imagine my joy when once his father signed on to the session . . . I saw this!

And this!

I know Mr. Minn Twin was a teacher, but I had no idea he was also a Broadway Star.

Or my personal favorite, a sheep!

And since Minn Twin misses his parents every day, they thought they would use the power of technology to transport them to our very backyard.

So after 16 hours of tireless painting, arguing, and arguing about painting.

one thing we could both agree on was clear. His parents really did live up to all the hype.

Happy Friday my lovelies!!!