Last Sunday, on the heels of a very fun Saturday, Andrew and I went and painted pottery. Yes, this was before the mani-pedi I also suckered Andrew into. But we had a coupon, and when you have a coupon, is there really ANY excuse for not doing what you want to do? Nope. Didn’t think so. Also: I am spoiled.
Anyways, we set off to Petroglyph, the pottery painting studio a few blocks from our apartment. When we walked in, Andrew was a bit overwhelmed by all the options of what to paint. Coffee cups, teapots, plates, bowls, garden gnomes (nope, not kidding). I decided on a cute little wish jar (more on that later) and Andrew decided on a piggy bank to house our change, which we affectionately call the Fro-Yo Fund. We have a little bit of a fro-yo problem, and after looking at a bank statement in which we dropped more money than we care to mention on frozen yogurt, we have now gone to an “only with spare change” policy. Also, Andrew selected the piggy bank since it requires only one color. He’s adventurous, that one.
I decided to go for a striped theme, so spent some time taping up my jar.
Isn’t Andrew’s little tongue pokin’ out so cute? He’s so serious about his piggy!
I wish I could say that I had a perfect experience. I planned to write “wishes…dreams…hopes” on my jar, to make it extra cute. I’ve heard of people using these for little jars of prayers or hopes and was thinking I’d create something similar. When I went to write on it, I screwed it up BIG TIME. Blobs of black paint, unreadable words. Not cute.
So, I threw a little hissy fit. I teared up, got all frustrated when I tried to wipe it off and it turned half the pot black and wanted to just GO HOME. It wasn’t my most charming moment, that’s for sure. And really, who gets upset over a pot, in the middle of Petroglyph, surrounded by yuppie mom’s throwing a birthday party?
I’m a total freaking perfectionist, what can I say? Anyways, after some muffled cursing and choice words directed at Andrew, who called an attendant over to assist me, which only pissed me off more, I repainted half the pot. So there. Hrmph.
Here were our final results:
Despite some “drama”, I was reminded once again to just CHILL OUT and enjoy the process. It was a pretty fun day, and once again: whose boyfriend will go paint pottery with them? I’m a lucky gal.