I like to think that I'm defined by so much more than being a lesbian. In fact, I feel like I'm really not that gay (as far as stereotypical character traits). I mean, sure, I love watching football. And drinking beer. And most of the time I wear t-shirts and jeans. And I would totally get a pair of Doc Martins. And I love Ani Difranco and Indigo Girls and am probably going to Lilith Fair this summer (If they can get it together. I'm looking at you, McLachlan.) But, I mean, it's not like I wear flannel or anything, right?! Wait...
Anyway, I've been bursting with dyke-y-ness the past few days. Steph and I are moving to DC in a few weeks and I'm all like, "Oh hey, let's build a headboard for the bed! It'll totally be easy, I'll use my dad's tools at home." And Steph is like, "Sure!"
So I've been home for over a week and a half and of course I leave the big building project for the last few days (why wouldn't I?). I do some research online and, after discussing plans with Steph, I have a clear vision and plan set up. Of course, nothing has gone according to plan.
First, my dad and I went to Home Depot to get supplies. Can I say that I love hardware stores without being mocked? Well, whatever, I said it. We got a big piece of plywood and some 1x4 boards. My initial plan was to upholster the plywood and then create a frame from the boards. I took wood shop in high school, so I figured I was an old pro at carpenter-ing.
Issue #1: The plywood does not fit in the back of my dad's car. You would've thought we measured first? Hah, I laugh at the notion. So my dad has somewhere to be in like 45 minutes and both of us are trying to force a giant piece of plywood into the trunk. Fail. Finally, my dad is like, "Well, it is wedged in there pretty good. We can make it home on back roads." I'm understandably nervous, but I realize there is no other option at this point.
Yeah, that is how far the wood was sticking out. We had no bungy cord or rope or anything. I had visions of plywood flying into another car's windshield. Luckily, we made it. So we get home and I'm ask my dad where the table saw is.
Issue #2: There is no table saw. Now, I had been planning on cutting the boards at 45 degree angles so they could fit together (like a picture frame). This is clearly not an option anymore. But, hey, I'm flexible. I adapt the plan to just make straight cuts on the wood. It won't be exactly what I envisioned but that's okay.
The next morning my dad and I start to get ready to cut the wood. I am exhausted because I've been painting my parents' bathroom and haven't been sleeping enough.
Issue #3: I don't have the skill or patience to make straight cuts on the wood. So, I crankily freak out and actually swear profusely in front of my dad because the wood isn't perfectly straight. I storm away muttering, "Why the fuck would I do a project that is not going to even look good" when my dad is just trying to be nice and tells me it is fine. Listen, I'm not proud of my behavior. I apologized for being a bitch.
Luckily, my buddy Linds' boyfriend Jack has better tools than my dad. They graciously say they will help me out with the cuts the next day because I'm going to be over there anyway. Satisfied with this, I start thinking about how I'm going to fashion the frame out of the wood. I start bouncing ideas off of my dad.
Issue #4: "Oh," my dad says, "if you want to connect those boards like that, you'll need big clamps. I don't have any though." Of course not. So I decide that I'm going to just pre-drill the boards and the plywood so that they're perfectly positioned (although separate pieces). This way after I upholster the plywood, I can just screw the frame boards to the back.
::screeeeeeee:: (That is the sound of a tire screeching or a record scratching that happens in a movie trailer when a huge plot point is unveiled. Example: movie about a good looking, popular, rich high school guy. ::screeeeee:: All of a sudden, we find out his family lost all their money and now he has to work 3 jobs to keep his status at school. Or something.)
Anyway, I wrote all that over a year ago (hard to believe Steph and I have been living in DC for a year!)... and now I don't remember much of the rest of the misadventures that occurred while I was building the headboard. I do remember it was a pain in the ass at every step, though. Here are some photos:
Trying to make a frame out of boards...
Stained boards!
I apparently did not document upholstering the plywood with photographs... needless to say, it was a little harder than I thought.
Finished headboard! Ta da! For those of you keeping track of this sort of thing, I would guess we spent around $100 on this.
