Style a bar is born

Hello my dear friends. I keep hearing from a few of you that you might have missed me…just a little. First off, I’m sorry and I’m also glad you noticed I was MIA. It has been a tough few months and I just hope you understand that I couldn’t get my head clear enough to be me. Do you know what I mean?

Anyways, I’m here and trying to get back on track…

Let’s start with a story about the little bar cart who couldn’t; couldn’t pull off the look, couldn’t maximize the space and couldn’t really function for our Margarita/Tequila shenanigan’s. In politeness to the gifted cart it really tried. But, one day I said as I was passing by it’s useless tininess “I’m breaking up with you and I’m completely over you. I’m looking for a replacement, a bigger, better and more badass you! Sorry, little guy…it’s off to the corner with you”.

I stick him in the corner and he looks like a tiny troll. Yes a troll…you know those ugly little squaty dolls with the funky hair. And then hmm, (light bulb moment…this entire corner needs to be turned into the bar).

So, hi-ho, hi-ho it’s off the antique stores I go. I’m buzzing all around looking for some sort of large substantial piece the can be transformed. Then alone in the corner leaning up against a bed I see the most stunning tray without a base. It doesn’t hit to me right away that this tray is my star, but I do know that it’s amazing and it’s also going to be mine.

The tray is not exactly free, but I make an executive decision to spend my birthday botox money on the tray because the tray will bring me longer pleasure than six months of botox that wares off and leaves me feeling bad about myself.

I part with my botox and head home with my tray. When I get in the house it takes me about two minutes to figure out this this tray is the star of my bar.

What happens next is a combination of complete destruction, demolition, paint, temper-tantrums, multiple trips to the hardware store, pounding shelves into the wall, patching holes from my frustration, repainting stripes again, returning stupid shelves, buying two more set’s, returning others and finally…Sunday comes and A BAR IS BORN. Whoosh, it was just like that!

DIY are not always a blast, but when it’s all said and done it’s makes life much more fun. Ta-dah, how do you like me now? Smooches!