Stick-less spot
Warning, this might be the biggest waste of time this blog has ever seen.
For those of you who loved the spaceship fan rant, I’ve got a new one for you. And for those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about, the spaceship fan rant represents can be defined broadly as a rant that has no roots in realistic complaints. You know, getting worked up over nothing. And I’m a little worked up.
This rant is about stick-less spots on my walls.
Spots that won’t let anything stick on them. Let me give you the background:
When I first moved into the apartment, I bought some thumbtacks and tried using them to hang the giant map of China I had purchased in Shanghai. No such luck, as the walls are made of sheetrock. So, I bought some packing tape and made those little loops, stuck them to the back of my beloved map and slapped that baby up on the wall. It’s been there every since, not having budged once. Then I bought several of those hooks with double stick tape on the back and used on to hang a scroll my father had painted for me.
I used more of the packing tape to put up the certificate from my completion of the Mandarin House program in Shanghai and even more of it to hang four small paintings my father had also sent me. Just the other day, I took the certificate down because it was starting to buckle. Even now, as I look up at where the certificate used to reside on my wall, I can see remains from the tape used to stick it up. In fact, when I pulled the certificate down, it pulled up some of the sheetrock – that’s how tough this tape is.
These are all examples of my walls being capable of retaining sticky material. I have sound proof that there are PARTS of my walls that are very stick-able. And it might be this proof which makes me all the more certain that I also have stick-less spots on my walls.
About two weeks ago, I decided that keeping the drawings from my drawing class in scattered piles on my floors, and moving them from pile to pile in the vain attempt to prove to myself that I had a SYSTEM, was just asking for water damage (sometimes the edges of my wall-to-wall carpet are moist or even growing small mushrooms). So I went and bought some of those hooks with the idea that I’d hang the drawings on a sort of laundry line along the wall above my bed. I couldn’t find any twine, string, rope, thread or any other long, stringy-like material for sale at the super market (which is a very odd experience in itself) so I fashioned my laundry line out of a red ribbon left over from Christmas and a red tie that was roped around one of the 5 gallon water bottles delivered to my door weeks ago. I placed one of the sad puppy hooks (there’s a picture of a hound dog puppy and the words “dog luck” on all of my hooks; they were the cheapest ones) on the wall, about four feet above the headboard of my bed and a foot to the left of the headboard. Then, I strung the laundry line and positioned the second hook up and above the right side of my headboard.
I think I’ll take the time now to describe the wall features as I see them now in the light of day. There is a considerable crack running from the ceiling to the headboard and probably all the way to the floor. This crack is probably the center point between the two hooks. Also, there is general lumpiness over by where the right-side hook was located. I use was because that is where the stick-less spot seems to be.
The hook lasted for all of an hour, I’d say. I was reading in bed when the laundry line and my four drawings came fluttering down on top of my head. So, I took out my trusty packing tape and…actually, that’s not true. I left the drawings and the laundry line down on the floor for about a week. All the while, the hook on the left side of the wall stayed put.
After my fever broke, I went on a massive cleaning attack of my room and tackled the stick-less spot again. This time I used the packing tape. I made a little fob on the end of the laundry line with packing tape and then taped the line up, over the spot where the hook had failed. I taped and taped like a mad woman. When I was finished, I surveyed my handiwork and it was atrocious. Tape over tape over tape over tape, but it looked like the right side of the line wasn’t going anywhere.
Last night, I awoke with a start as I heard the laundry line plummeting to it’s half-collapse. In fact, as I type this, it still hangs on one side from the sad puppy hook. Dog luck is right, I suppose. (Or is dog luck a shabby, luckless thing? Who knows?) Now, I hate being woken with a start. It is really bad for the heart, I’ve decided. I mean, I thought my heart was going to thump itself right on out of my body. Eventually, I passed out again, but I woke this morning with the memory of that startled awakening. I decided the stick-less spot couldn’t get away with this naughtiness without a fight so I’ve written about the problem and will spend the rest of the day brainstorming about how to dupe the stick-less spot. If I come up with something, I’ll certainly let you know.
For those of you who loved the spaceship fan rant, I’ve got a new one for you. And for those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about, the spaceship fan rant represents can be defined broadly as a rant that has no roots in realistic complaints. You know, getting worked up over nothing. And I’m a little worked up.
This rant is about stick-less spots on my walls.
Spots that won’t let anything stick on them. Let me give you the background:
When I first moved into the apartment, I bought some thumbtacks and tried using them to hang the giant map of China I had purchased in Shanghai. No such luck, as the walls are made of sheetrock. So, I bought some packing tape and made those little loops, stuck them to the back of my beloved map and slapped that baby up on the wall. It’s been there every since, not having budged once. Then I bought several of those hooks with double stick tape on the back and used on to hang a scroll my father had painted for me.
I used more of the packing tape to put up the certificate from my completion of the Mandarin House program in Shanghai and even more of it to hang four small paintings my father had also sent me. Just the other day, I took the certificate down because it was starting to buckle. Even now, as I look up at where the certificate used to reside on my wall, I can see remains from the tape used to stick it up. In fact, when I pulled the certificate down, it pulled up some of the sheetrock – that’s how tough this tape is.
These are all examples of my walls being capable of retaining sticky material. I have sound proof that there are PARTS of my walls that are very stick-able. And it might be this proof which makes me all the more certain that I also have stick-less spots on my walls.
About two weeks ago, I decided that keeping the drawings from my drawing class in scattered piles on my floors, and moving them from pile to pile in the vain attempt to prove to myself that I had a SYSTEM, was just asking for water damage (sometimes the edges of my wall-to-wall carpet are moist or even growing small mushrooms). So I went and bought some of those hooks with the idea that I’d hang the drawings on a sort of laundry line along the wall above my bed. I couldn’t find any twine, string, rope, thread or any other long, stringy-like material for sale at the super market (which is a very odd experience in itself) so I fashioned my laundry line out of a red ribbon left over from Christmas and a red tie that was roped around one of the 5 gallon water bottles delivered to my door weeks ago. I placed one of the sad puppy hooks (there’s a picture of a hound dog puppy and the words “dog luck” on all of my hooks; they were the cheapest ones) on the wall, about four feet above the headboard of my bed and a foot to the left of the headboard. Then, I strung the laundry line and positioned the second hook up and above the right side of my headboard.
I think I’ll take the time now to describe the wall features as I see them now in the light of day. There is a considerable crack running from the ceiling to the headboard and probably all the way to the floor. This crack is probably the center point between the two hooks. Also, there is general lumpiness over by where the right-side hook was located. I use was because that is where the stick-less spot seems to be.
The hook lasted for all of an hour, I’d say. I was reading in bed when the laundry line and my four drawings came fluttering down on top of my head. So, I took out my trusty packing tape and…actually, that’s not true. I left the drawings and the laundry line down on the floor for about a week. All the while, the hook on the left side of the wall stayed put.
After my fever broke, I went on a massive cleaning attack of my room and tackled the stick-less spot again. This time I used the packing tape. I made a little fob on the end of the laundry line with packing tape and then taped the line up, over the spot where the hook had failed. I taped and taped like a mad woman. When I was finished, I surveyed my handiwork and it was atrocious. Tape over tape over tape over tape, but it looked like the right side of the line wasn’t going anywhere.
Last night, I awoke with a start as I heard the laundry line plummeting to it’s half-collapse. In fact, as I type this, it still hangs on one side from the sad puppy hook. Dog luck is right, I suppose. (Or is dog luck a shabby, luckless thing? Who knows?) Now, I hate being woken with a start. It is really bad for the heart, I’ve decided. I mean, I thought my heart was going to thump itself right on out of my body. Eventually, I passed out again, but I woke this morning with the memory of that startled awakening. I decided the stick-less spot couldn’t get away with this naughtiness without a fight so I’ve written about the problem and will spend the rest of the day brainstorming about how to dupe the stick-less spot. If I come up with something, I’ll certainly let you know.
