Panic and friendship

Long post - bear with me.

The painters are making progress.

And I am only just post-meltdown.

The foyer/family room/stairway - the main part of the house - is too pink. I was going for a khaki color, and when I look at that paint chip I sill see the color I wanted. On the walls, however, I see an almost dusty rose. It was to match a color in the family room area rug (the rug is orange, red, gold, brown, and tan - looks great with our persimmon/orange couch/chair). And I think it does. But for the walls, it is too pink.

I thought I could live with it, thought it would grow on me, that once the pictures were on the wall, it would all work.

Then I saw the kitchen: too orange. And the top half of the dining room: too pink. And my main house walls? Still too pink. Panic is setting in.

I had that pit in my stomach, and I couldn't imagine that it would go away. I was going to have to live with my regret, day after day after day - right in my face. Gary came home at 11.30 last night and as he got into bed mentioned the paint colors.

Stop, I said. I can't talk about it. I couldn't sleep; I lay awake, pondering what to do. And I was exhausted.

This morning, I made up my mind: Redo the foyer/family room/stair well. They haven't done the living room, upstairs hallways, or computer area. So I only have to pay to have part of it redone. And the dining room main color (burgundy) will go above the chair rail as well.

So, step one was to visit my neighbor - she and I had talked about paint colors, so I went over to ask her advice. Compared my color swatches to her walls, and found my solution. Talked to the lead guy, and we're good - he even gave me a deal on having it redone. Nice guy.

Then I came home, peeked in the bedroom and - gasp - didn't like the color on the bedroom walls. I told the guys to stop, that I was changing to a different color. I told them to go ahead with the master bath. (Are you sure, they asked? Tee hee - fair enough!!)

So now I am feeling better. But I sill needed a little therapy - I needed to talk to a friend.

I love my husband. He's a great guy, and he's generally fun to do things with. We have a great time together. But when I really need to talk, I'll be honest: I do not go to him. I turn to my girlfriends. They know how to listen, when to give advice, when to support me, when to constructively criticize. We're women - we know these things.

Unfortunately for me, at this point in my life, my girlfriends are, without exception, long-distance. But it's OK - calls on the mobile are free, and we have plenty of long distance built into our home phone. So I can always call to chat. These days, the people I think to call first come from many different part of my life: Tammy goes waaayy back to grade school (fourth grade, to be exact); Peter and I have been friends since freshman year of college (I know, he's not a girl, but he's still a great friend, and always fun to chat with); Helen, my "kindred spirit" friend with whom I have almost too much in common sometimes (it can be scary); and JoAnn, my bowling/Mah Jongg/inside Lafayette friend - she and I totallly crack one another up with keen obervations on life in the shadow of Purdue.

Today, I called Tammy. I hope hope hoped she'd be home and, lucky me, she was. We haven't talked on the phone for a while, but we're in touch - blog comments, short e-mails back and forth on this and that. But you know? She is one of those people who, when we get on the phone, it feels as if we just talked yesterday. She knows waaaay too much about me, but she never, ever brings up embarrassing memories or reminds me of what a geek I used to be. She doesn't make me feel guilty for the times when I was a bad friend, nor does she try hard to sound superior in her decisions or lifestyle that may not exactly mirror my own. She doesn't try to pass herself as more sophisticated than she is, or sound phony, and she is not judgmental (unless she should be - you know, when we talk about people we never liked in high school. Which we usually don't do - frankly, we have better things to discuss).

Today, she was calm and patient and helped me work through the final moments of my paint crisis. With a great deal of humor. It's funny that I used to call her to discuss clothes and boys and homework and extracirricular activities; today I called and we discussed our home improvement projects. We had to hang up all too soon.

Now I am home, all relaxed, as I watch my walls transform to the colors I had in mind. I am reflecting on how lucky I am to have the friends I have - and for those whom I did not mention, you're in my thoughts, too.

Thanks, Tammy. For being there for me, then and now. For listening. For being you.