Got an old bathroom?

Or worse, one that was “updated” but never quite finished?

This bathroom was one of those – a project that never quite made it to the finish line.

I’ll admit – this one is mine, a project I decided I HAD to do when I was pregnant with my youngest son who is now 5.

The Old Home and The Nesting Homeowner

It was one of the worst cases of nesting on record, or so the story book says.

Picture Texas in June-ish, and an avid DIY’er who was 7 months pregnant and HATED the downstairs bathroom. It was seriously ugly – wallpaper form the 1980s, a cultured marble sink, an old water-damaged cabinet and brown and gold sheet vinyl on the floor.

Oh, and ew, salmon-colored plastic knobs on the cabinet door and drawers.

Topping it off was a brass pendant fixture with a long, swagged metal chain.

Faux Finishing an Older Bathroom

I had recently taken a class in Faux Finishing from Lu Goodwin Mark, the owner of the Austin School of Faux Finishes.

Emboldened, I attacked my vintage-1982 home with gusto.

I ripped out the counter and cabinet, dragging the hacked-up pieces out to the front porch on my butt, which made the task easier on my old back and bulging belly.

I peeled off the wallpaper, and had it re-textured with a nice smooth finish on which to apply the new finish.

A tiling contractor removed the old vinyl flooring and prepared it for a new pebble-tile floor, found for the rock-bottom price of $10 per square foot on eBay (including FREE shipping!).

And no, no men other than the ones I paid to help me dared get anywhere *near* this project lest they get roped in and put to work at all hours of the day and night.

Applying the Final Touches on the Bathroom Remodeling

Once the floor was in and the walls were ready, I hand-troweled an expensive italian plaster on the walls, embedding layers of $50-per-quart metallic faux-finishing products between the layers. The final coat was a hand-rubbed metallic finish the left lovely pools of sparkly gold in the texture of the walls.

It was, in my humble opinion, a masterpiece.

It was a near-exact replica of the walls in the Opal Divine’s restaurant off South Congress in Austin. Except, of course, the restaurant had huge amounts of wall space and a bigger budget and the other decor to pull it off.

And, unfortunately, my little old bathroom had none of that.

Edge-Grain Mesquite

Soonly, though, I acquired a gorgeous piece of edge-grain mesquite and used it as a counter, luring my neighbors over to help me run it through the table saw in the driveway to cut it to just the right size.

A plumber installed a vessel sink – long before vessel sinks were so common – and burned through 5 DeWalt batteries cutting the hole for the drain because the mesquite was so unforgiving.

Another day, squatting on my haunches in the garage, I used my brand-new grinder to cut 2″ square pieces of slate tile to fit as a backsplash. Then lovingly finished them with grout that matched the pale yellow of the walls.

My faithful seamstress dis-assembled a Target shower curtain in red paisley and re-assembled it into an ultrasuede-edged shower curtain with 5-inch long fringe and matching shades for the bathroom and adjacent bedroom.

Texas Tuscan

With those custom-sewn pieces in place, my Texas-Tuscan Bathroom was complete!

And, oh, man oh man, was it UGLY.

So ugly, even my most faithful of friends couldn’t say anything nice. One did me the favor of taking the window treatments away, far far away, under the guise of giving them to a friend in need.

The rest just didn’t go near it, perhaps for fear that it would suck them into DIY-hell and make them do the same thing to their own bathroom that needed to be updated.

I used it whiile the baby was a newborn, then closed off that part of the house, since the space was really just more than we really needed as a family and I didn’t want to have to keep it clean.

Bad DIY Style Can Be Contagious

A few years later, I tried to “match” the adjacent bedroom to the colors, but not the style, and ended up with what one long-time friend dubbed “The Ronald McDonald Room”.

The curtains from that round had yellow gingham on the top, red ultrasuede on the bottom and a nice fat band of chocolate rick rack seperating the two.

And yes, I actually paid someone to make them for me.

They now hang at the top of another friend’s stairs, and look just marvelous with her red couch and less-busy decor.

Fixing the Badly-Updated Bathroom

Finally, the time came when this bathroom could no longer be ignored.

The venetian-plastered walls and mesquite counter and horribly-installed slate backsplash HAD TO GO. So did the old tile in the shower – tile that was in great shape but oh-so-vintage-1982.

The $2500-ish budget permitted for new texture on the walls, new paint, new good-quality porcelain tile in the shower, plumbing work, new faucets and a new mirror. It did not, however, cover the cost of the new granite counter, so I traded a bunch of camping gear and garage shelving in lieu of the $500-ish that the counter and sink woud have cost.

The current version of this bathroom draws you right in and makes you want hang out. Or, at least it makes my kids want to hang out since I have to keep chasing them out of the space.

The paint on the wall is Benjamin Moore “Tranquility” in Aura Matte. The granite backsplash is 6-inches tall – about 2-inches taller than typical backsplashes and meant we could avoid introducing new materials into the space. The river rock flooring still rocks – it is simply fabulous on the feet.

Everything in this space is now either brand-new, or new in the last 5 years, except for the tub which is original. The crown molding is timeless, so are the 2-panel smooth-skin doors and 5-inch baseboards, all painted in Benjamin Moore Satin Impervo oil in Cloud White – a gorgeously lustrous paint that dries silky smooth and durable.

If you’ve done something like I did – sometimes you have to just suck it up and re-do it. You’ll get back some usable space in your home, and can re-earn your reputation as the DIY style-maven for your neighborhood (or at least you can *think* you are!)

You see those beautiful Texas Bulls in this photo?

Yeah, me neither.

They were lounging in the sunshine near the road on this glorious Texas day. We zipped through an intersection, saw them and turned around to snap a few pics. This is why I sometimes accompany my husband on his appraisal trips – because we can get waaaay out into the Texas country side and often find some excellent farm animals willing to pose for the camera.

Not these bulls, or chickens, really.

As soon as they saw me coming, they skedaddled to the other side of the fence, and stayed there, completely out of reach.

A few minutes later, a guy in a big truck came and hauled them away, off to McDade, Texas.

So much for that.

Do You remember the last character you listened to?

You know, someone with long, colorful stories to tell?

Have you been tempted to rush on by, and forget that sometimes, underneath an unimposing facade, there are interesting stories to uncover?

The Impatient Person

I am a rusher.

Impatient, busy, a pacer. I don’t like to sit still, unless, of course, I’m hammering on the computer keyboard, and then I’m not actually still – I’m hammering on the keyboard.

But the other day, I got stuck waiting. Waiting at a metal warehouse for some metal to get cut for one of Orlando’s projects.

I paced a bit. Looked at stuff on my iPhone (but hate to type on it), and wandered down the street to see if there was anything more interesting to look at than the giant shiny metal building that houses Westbrook Metals in Austin.

Then I came back and watched. Watched the guys working the metal cutting machines.

Watched them load and unload trucks from architectural firms, plumbers, builders.

What You Don’t Notice When You’re Rushing Around Doing Important Things

I watched a guy, covered in blue work clothes, cigarette dangling, while he adjusted the settings to cut a complicated order on a big, gritty machine.I wanted to get closer.

Would I get chased out if I stepped into their work area? Would it distract them?

I fetched my camera from the car. It’s a big honking thing, with a huge lens by today’s standards. It is not a point-and-shoot.

I crept closer. Snapped a few. Looked around. Crept a little closer. Took a few of some rusty things. Oh, how rusty things are so lovely. Industrial Art, made from stuff like this, has so many stories to tell.

Getting Into the Grit

After a while, I was deep in the bowels of the warehouse, all but ignored by the men working to get the orders out.

I found an old machine, covered in metal shavings, with a patina that only comes from years of hard service.

As I leaned in for the shot, the warehouse manager popped up by my side. He was confused – why would that machine be worth taking a picture of? I showed him some of the shots – and still he was unimpressed. With his permission, I went looking for more stuff to pass the time, stuff to entertain me later, at 2am when I can’t sleep.

Another warehouse veteran stopped to chat.

Told me some war stories of really big orders, of years in the business, of how HOT it gets in the summer in a metal warehouse, machines humming, trucks idling outside, the sun glinting off the metal roof and sides of the building.

The camera draws them in.

He gave me a lot to think about.

Sometimes The Best Stories Can’t Be Told

And then, as I turned to leave, I spotted this guy.

Slid under a heavy metal sawhorse, just out of sight, but just within reach. Years of hard work had worn him down, covered him with age and wrinkles and stooped him a bit over.

If he could talk, can you imagine the stores he would be able to share?

A few weeks ago, I had carefully lined up a handful of promising listings for my clients. We were mid-way through the tour when we stopped by a new listing – one I hadn’t seen before. As per my usual habit, I entered first and was opening up rooms and turning on lights so my clients could take a good look.

Although I am usually prepared for all sorts of unusual features, this one caught me by surprise.

I opened the Master Bathroom door and a GIANT, and I mean GIANT, black lab pounced on me – all 500 pounds of slobbering, wiggling, exhuberant happiness of a dog that is THRILLED that someone has stopped by to visit. Guard dog she was not. I squealed and jumped back and my 7-month pregnant client did the same, as did her husband, who she bumped into as she wheeled around to flee the room! AUGH!

After recovering from the initial shock, and realizing the dog was friendly, I tried to calm her down with words and petting, but finally wrapped my arms around her neck and kneeled on the floor beside her to give her the love she needed to calm down. She needed the big guns – my weight vs. hers, to anchor her to the floor to keep her from bounding into the next room after my clients who were back in the entry, ready to make a quick exit, if needed.

Ah, the adrenaline rush.

Yes, dogs are lovely, but not if you want prospective buyers to get a good look at your house. If I had to describe that house to someone now, the only thing I remember is that the door to the master bathhrom was on an angle, closed, and that the DOG WAS REALLY REALLY BIG.

We probably won’t be back.

It all began with a pan of smoking bacon grease.

A few weeks earlier, my soon-to-be ex had left a pan of bacon grease on a still-hot burner and in the ensuing chaos of the smoke-filled kitchen, the pan had caught on fire. The hot pan melted a part of the laminate counter near the stove and on this bright sunny day in June, with my soon-to-be ex in Pennsylvania for the summer, I stood contemplating the burn marks, and the attempted repair of the counter with a plastic paint (no, not by me).

My mind wandered between the messed-up counter and my job search, and scrolled through my to-do list for the day. What should I do today? I should get my career back on track after several years as a stay-at-home Mom. I should take some night-school classes to get current on a few topics. I should clean the garage. I should make a list of all the things that need to be fixed around the house and start fixing them.

And then I thought of a line from “Sex and the City” where Carrie wonders how much time women spend “should-ing all over ourselves”.

Should-ing All Over Ourselves
I realized I should do a lot of things that day, just like I’ve spent most of the days of my life doing the things I should do, whether I want to do them or not.

Instead, I ripped out the kitchen counters.

And so began another home remodeling project.

The Tale Behind the Tale

Let me give you some background.

My Northwest Austin kitchen was original – vintage 1982. Dark brown cabinets (but good quality), ivory laminate counters, and a seriously, seriously ugly vinyl floor. It was clean at best, but depressing at worst. In the summer of 2005, I needed to be surrounded by pretty, not ugly.

My kitchen remodel became a turning point, from doing what I should, to doing what I wanted, while still keeping in mind the needs of my family, and the realities of life and finances. Once upon a time I would have repaired the kitchen counter in the most practical of ways – by replacing it with another laminate and calling it done. Instead, I went FABULOUS, and re-did almost the entire kitchen.

By doing a lot of the work myself, and working hard on deals with vendors and tradesmen, I managed to get it done on a reasonable budget.

While working on the kitchen, I bonded with neighbors, sang a lot of songs at the top of my lungs, and learned a whole heck of a lot about the contrast between what looks easy on HGTV (all of it!) and what isn’t so easy when you’re doing it yourself at midnight and the caffeine is wearing off (most of it!).

Before: The Original Kitchen

Here are a few photos of the original kitchen:

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Taking the kitchen part, of course, was way easier than getting it back together. It would have helped if I had had a plan, but I didn’t. This was a spontaneous remodel. As a master planner of every little detail of everything I do (or anything anyone else does, for that matter), spontaneous is generally not part of my project vocabulary.

Some Times You Need a Plan, Sometimes You Don’t

Despite having no plan, I got lucky! So lucky!

A mom from my Girl Scout Troop gave me the name of a guy who had some guys who could come sand the cabinets and remove the rest of the counter (okay, it was a little harder than I had expected it to be, and the counter was integrated with the back splash, so that had to come out, too). After that, I kicked it into high gear – it was GAME ON!

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A salesman from a mesquite counter store called to say that a commercial customer had backed out of a big order, and would I be interested in some end-grain 2 ½” thick mesquite butcher block counters, at a discount? Why YES, I would! (So, he HAD taken me seriously when I said, “give me a call if you can ever offer a better price”!)

The mesquite salesman gave me the name of an iron guy who could make the required support structure for the counter, to keep it from cracking under pressure, of say, a small child jumping up and down on the overhanging part. Not that I have any that would do that – do you?

The iron guy, Peter Rehme, of Rehme Custom Ironwork dropped by to give me a quote.

After giving him the tour, and a run down of what I was hoping he could build, he said (I kid you not), “Alison, I have to be honest with you. I don’t do jobs this small”. After staring at him for a few moments while I considered my options, I countered with a proposal that got us both what we wanted: iron work for me, some return on his investment of time for him. Two days later, Peter and his brother showed up with the counter support, a pot rack (!!), some decorative curly brackets, a shelf for over the stove, and a support structure for the new downstairs master bathroom counter (technically, I hadn’t even taken out the old one, YET). I knew that asking for the pot rack was probably pushing my luck, but sometimes we need what we need and I knew I needed a pot rack.

Peter’s iron art evolves from basic iron bars and iron plate, not from catalog parts.

I LOVE LOVE LOVE his sense of style, and his work is top-quality. To be fair, now that I have seen quite a bit of his work, my job really was small potatoes, but I am grateful he was still willing to work me into his schedule. Keep him in mind for when you’re planning your own remodeling project – his website has a great gallery of work, including staircases, enormous gates, and lots of truly custom pieces.

The counter price, by the way, didn’t include templating (making it fit), delivery or installation. It turned into one BIG JOB to coordinate all of the elements involved to get it installed. I love how it looks but I’d think twice about putting in another one, unless ALL of the necessary services were included in the price – caveat emptor!

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The Design Center of Austin

One completely unexpected joy of this project was discovering the Austin School of Faux Finishes, in the Design Center of Austin, at old Penn Field off South Congress. The owner of the Austin School of Faux Finishes, artist Lu Goodwin Mark, has a fantastic sense of color and style. Lu teaches classes on the art of fine finishes, for walls, woodwork, cabinet and floors, some faux and some real. I promptly signed up for her classes on European Plasters, plus one on glazes (taught by local master artist Pat Strong) and one on SkimStone, a product that looks like venetian plaster for the floor. After years of classes in hard science (Chemistry!), taking one just for the pleasure of learning a decorative skill was really really rewarding.

If you haven’t visited the Design Center of Austin, take an afternoon and go see what some local businesses have to offer. The buildings at Penn Field house a kitchen remodeling showroom with fantastic upper-end cabinetry (ALNO), a modern lighting store (Alexander Marchant), one that sells really cool bathroom fixtures and another that sells high-end cabinet and door hardware, including some you won’t find elsewhere around town. The Design Center is also home to Vintage Material and Supply Company, which reclaims and sells vintage timber and lumber, including old-growth long leaf pine, sinker pine, sinker cypress, and native Texas timbers.

The Design Center of Austin is located on South Congress, West of 35 and North of 290:

View Larger Map

I must tell you, once I discovered the Design Center, my eyes opened WIDE. Actually, I think I started hyperventilating. This place will greatly expand what you recognize is possible when designing, or re-designing your own home or offices. You don’t have to go high-end with everything to end up with a gorgeous space, but a few high-end touches can really change the entire look and feel of a room.

Get Your Art On

If you’ve ever thought about taking some art classes, just DO IT. You’ll never know how good you might be at something until you try. You might make some new friends, too!

From my SkimStone class, I had the skills necessary to refinish my concrete floors. SkimStone is a hybridized portland cement and goes down in thin layers with a decorative finish trowel. The floors have to be exceptionally smooth and clean and you have to work fast, but the end result is worth the effort, and if you do the work yourself, it is very economical (under $1.00 a square foot, or even cheaper if you really plan your product usage well). Most of the first floor in my house is now covered with SkimStone, with 2″ metallic slate tile edging instead of quarter-round. It is cold in the winter, like tile, but it is durable and when you get tired of it, you can cover it up with tile, wood, vinyl or carpet without having to take it back out.

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A Really Big Sink

After the complications of getting the mesquite counter installed, I thought the rest of the remodel would be smooth sailing. I was wrong. The hardest part of the kitchen turned out to be getting the sink in place. A sink! I desperately wanted a farmhouse-style sink and in 2005, these weren’t as readily available as they are in 2009. I called all over, shopped the web and finally found one – a HUGE one – for half the going rate, freight from somewhere in the midwest included in the price! Whoo hoo!

Unfortunately, the sink didn’t arrive on the scheduled day, and with the granite counter guys scheduled to arrive the next morning, I was pulling my hair out. I finally got hold of the carrier, located the sink on a loading dock in San Antonio and talked them into staying open just a little bit late so I could come fetch. One kind friend signed up for the ride (wouldn’t you?) and we drove down to San Antonio. When we got there I asked the one worker left if he could just “throw it in the back” of my wagon for me and he just smiled like I was nuts. It took a forklift to get it into my car and we drove like a low-rider all the way home.

[View with PicLens]

[View with PicLens]

After: An Old Kitchen, Updated

And, here are the final shots of the kitchen. If I can get it cleaned up again this week, I’ll take a few more, from some of the original spots for comparison!

[View with PicLens]

[View with PicLens]

Folks walking their dogs stopped to chat and watch me paint cabinet doors in the driveway (for the kitchen, after a class on faux painting). Others wanted to know what I was cutting up with the table saw on a bright sunny day (a new bathroom counter, mesquite, locally milled). Other days, it was the tarps outside covered with spray-painted silver metallic boards (a luggage shelf for the garage) that captured someone’s attention.

A few days before I met Frank, however, the scene was a little more dramatic.

Let me tell you a little of the back story of my home, to help you catch up.

My house, purchased in 2004, was vintage 1983. Brown. Gold. Swag-chained globe lights. Dark trim, dark paneling. Flat white walls and a pool-table-bar-light gone wrong in the upstairs gameroom. Although the home had been meticulously maintained, it was U.G.L.Y.

One day, deep in the throes of my need for distraction from my pending divorce, I woke up and realized the downstairs half bath counter and sink had to GO. NOW. The counter was a dark cultured marble that had been painted (painted!) white. The paint was chipping, the doors were warped, the knobs were PLASTIC.

I ripped it out. All of it, including the toilet. Why stop when you’re having fun? The drywall guy working on the walls in the kitchen was wise – he ignored the noise coming from that end of the house, even though it took me an hour to smash the counter into pieces small enough to get through the doorway. The cabinet was a little too heavy to pick up all by myself, so I dragged it, inch by inch, out the front door and on to the porch. YAY!

A few days later, I had ordered a new sink and a new faucet and when they arrived, I got down to the business of installing them. How hard can it be, I thought? I’m reasonably intelligent, and I have a Plumbing Book With Pictures and Illustrations! The new faucet was a wall-mounted one, a commercial style, with a swing arm. Very cool. The sink was a GIGANTIC surgeons plaster sink, which I intended to put to use as both a utility sink, bathroom sink and occasional toddler bathtub.

Let me tell you – shoulda woulda coulda. I shoulda ordered a normal faucet. I woulda ordered a normal sink. I coulda hired the plumber right away. Instead, I did it myself, and when I went out to the street to turn the water to the house back on, I inadvertently left the shut-off valve for the pipes open and as I came back in to the house, I could see – and hear – water shooting out of the bathroom door, flooding the bathroom, the hallway and part of the adjacent bedroom.

30 minutes and 30 bath towels later, thanks to several neighbors, I had the water mopped up, fans running to dry the spaces and one huge plumbing lesson under my belt: make sure the shut-off valve is actually shut-off before turning on the water. To this day, I can imagine what Kelley (across the street) might have thought when I came running out of the house to turn the water back off, wild-eyed, wild-haired and soaked to the bone.

Because I am not one to back down from a challenge, the water to my house was off for two days. Two Days. I went back and forth to Lowe’s and Home Depot, because I just couldn’t get the valves properly attached to the pipes – no matter what, they leaked. Finally, in desperation, I called Frank The Plumber, and in about an hour, he had it all back together.

Now, why is this story supposed to be empowering?

Although this adventure wasn’t at the beginning of my single-homeowner journey, it marked a turning point for me. I didn’t get these valves in correctly, but I did manage to get the next ones on right, and the ones after that. I learned how to operate a plumbing blow-torch, and why that particular job should be left to a pro. I learned that I CAN do a lot of things myself, but that it’s okay to call for help when you need it. With Frank’s permission, I examined his toolbox, and then acquired a lot of the basic tools of the trade for my own tool box, and learned how to fix most of my run-of-the-mill plumbing issues, so that I am not dependent on someone who may-or-may not be around to fix something at 10pm on a weekend. Last year, I even installed my own pedestal sink while waiting for another plumber who could never manage to show up on time. I even did that one in heels and a skirt because I didn’t actually intend to put in the sink, but was just doing what I could after work, before the plumber arrived, and then realized I could do it all myself! YAY!

So if you’re ever wondering if you can do something, just remember, You Can Do It, Yes You Can!

Check out the photos!

[View with PicLens]

Resources:

The Austin School of Faux Finishes taught me how to do the SkimStone on the floor. The owner, Lu Goodwin Mark, is a great resource for all faux finishes, and real ones, too. The classes on plasters and glazes are very interesting and instructive.

The wall paint is Palladian Blue by Benjamin Moore. I patronize my local Benjamin Moore dealer, Hill Country Paint on Anderson Mill. Check out these other fabulous spaces that use Palladian Blue.

The Train Rack on the wall came from Restoration Hardware.

The faucet is from Chicago Faucets. Although I LOVE this faucet, I would never try to install one myself again – you really need a master plumber to get the spacing and anchoring right in the wall.

It’s almost 3am, and I know where my kids are – sleeping! And they probably know where Mom is – on the computer!

Check out the tons of new photos in the blog post about the Nine Sixty Nine Subdivision in East Austin. I added 22 photographs and showcased them using a WordPress Plugin called NextGen Gallery. This has been rattling around in the back of my mind for a few weeks, and tonight, when all was quiet, I knew it was time! Hope you enjoy the show – let me know!

This also the time of year when the neediest among us need our help the most. As the weather turns colder and the nights become longer, many people who have no place to call “home” depend on the generosity of strangers to keep their hope alive.

Can you help?

I’ve compiled a list of some of the local charities that provide extensive support services in our community. Please visit their websites and include time for them in your holiday plans this year.

The card pictured above is one made by my family and me to send to family and friends. My husband pounded in the “snaps” at the top. Our children punched out the leaves and square decoration for the bottom corner. We all sat around our big dining room table one evening earlier this week and put them all together. It was messy, and rowdy, and noisy and made my eyes fill with tears that so many other people are struggling for just the basics. Each card mailed also had a list of local charities that need support. I hope my friends will join us this year in serving the neediest among us. One day, some day, with our help, these people will also find their way HOME.

I’ve always believed that I was a fast learner – quick on the uptake I used to say.

Good thing, because “going into real estate” means drinking from the fire hose.

The information comes at you fast and furious, relentlessly trying to drown all but the most tenacious (voracious?). It is possible to ignore it, but that would be at the agent’s peril because one day, sooner than later, you’re going to need to either know the answer or need to know where to go to get the answer.

Title Companies Have a Lot of Good Information for Austin Realtors

Gobs of information can be had from Title Companies.

These companies provide extensive, frequent, detailed classes covering the ins and outs of the industry.

Officially, Title companies research a property’s title prior to its sale. The company looks for any liens or claims (which can hinder the transfer of the property) and works to fix any issues that are found. Title companies also supervise closing transactions to make sure that final money transfers between the parties are processed correctly – the buyers gain title to the house, the sellers gets their sale proceeds and everyone walks away from the table all squared up.

Title companies of course want the business that real estate agents bring to them, but because of the rules and regulations prescribed by the Texas Department of Insurance, the policies they offer are standardized.

The best ones, therefore differentiate themselves by good old fashioned customer service – by being responsive and efficient, which improves the chances a transaction will close on time, which is of course what everyone wants.

Be Quick on The Uptake, or Drown

How does this equate to drinking from the fire hose?

A few years ago, I attended a class offered by a title company with offices in my building. The class was on Social Media, and I expected it to be interesting, but kind of slow – you know, a power point presentation talk talk talk. Boy oh boy was I wrong. From the minute we sat down it was rat-a-tat-tat information delivered faster than I could absorb and process it. And it was ALL good stuff!! I walked out two hours later, exhausted but elated.

If you want to be in the know, check out Mashable, The Social Media Guide.

All you can drink, all day long, directly from the fire hose.

But I digress.

I shoulda woulda coulda done what I was born to do, but I didn’t. I didn’t follow my heart then, but I can sure as heck follow it now. And I am finally old enough to know that it is better to be a rookie real estate agent climbing a really steep learning curve than to be a seasoned project manager managing projects that make me want to crawl back into bed and sleep for a week.

So here I am, diving into the deep end, and I think I might take a few friends and friends-to-be into the deep end with me. I hope you’re ready because I am.