How to hang a mirror in 1489 steps!

After three weeks of attempting and procrastinating, I have, finally, hung the hallway mirror! Who would have thought that such a simple thing to become such an endeavor.

The journey began when the parents decided to paint the hallway. On condition of their return, I had requested the condo be repainted. Like any good painters, they removed all hangings from the walls prior to painting. Afterwards, the paint had to dry and cure so the hangings were left for a time. Time passed quickly, and before we knew it, it was time for them to return to Korea, leaving said hangings unhung. Assuring them that, as I was university educated and not completely unhandy with a hammer and screwdriver, I was more than capable of hanging up the hangings, Mom and Dad returned to Korea.

Being a procrastinator by nature, I left the hanging of The Mirror until a couple of days before Amy and Jaclyn were to arrive. Feeling that I should be prepared for their arrival, and have the house in tip-top order, I made my first endeavor to hang The Mirror. This endeavor ended in frustration. While the holes had been painted over, they were still visible. This cheered me greatly as it meant that I did not have to measure and fuss with the screw placement (or so I thought). With this taken care of, I next turned my attention to finding the correct screws to use. Considering the weight of The Mirror (I do believe that it is made out of leaded glass - it is excruciatingly heavy), I needed screws of sufficient width and length. Finding two longish screws I believed that I had everything in order. Screwing in the first screw was as easy as slicing butter with a hot knife (well maybe not that easy, but certainly easier then the next). The second screw proved to be past my strength. Yet I did not despair, for I knew that Dad had an electric screwdriver. But the screwdiver proved my undoing. I could not, for the life of me, determine how to change the tip. I tried and I tried. I thought that I understood how it was to loosen, but I could not loosen it. Tired, frustrated and more than a little annoyed that a piece of equipment could out-smart me, I attempted to screw in the nail a little over. This only resulted in increasing the size of the hole (no duh, I know, but I wasn't thinking clearly at this time). Now, not only was The Mirror not hung, but now I had a hole which was too big for a screw to hold the thing. I emailed Mom and Dad to gain instruction on how to loosen the screwdriver, and determine which screws to use (of which they promptly responded) and proceeded to procrastinate (I had an exam to study for after all).

Considering the size of the hole, I needed to fix it before I could even consider hanging the mirror. After about a week of procrastinating, I purchased the required polyfill, and the next day (pretty good for me), I filled the hole. Now of course, one must wait for the polyfill to dry before screwing anything into it. So I happily put off hanging The Mirror, until the next week.

Monday, September 12th, Amy asked what I was planning to do for the evening, and I admitted that the plan was to hang The Mirror. If ever you have a problem with procrastinating, tell someone that you plan to do the thing you are procrastinating, and when they ask about it, you'll feel guilty and, finally, get around to doing it. (This was Amy for me). So after cleaning the supper dishes, and checking my email, I finally dragged myself into the hall and prepared for battle. Armed with the knowledge of how to change the drill bit on the drill, I quickly measured the distance between the two hooks on the mirror and drilled two holes. I then screwed in the two screws (which I believed to be the ones required). Hoisting The Mirror (did I mention that the things weighs a tonne!), I attempted to hook the hooks onto the screws. After struggling for a couple of minutes, I requested help from a passing roommate (Jaclyn). With her supporting the mirror I attempted to line up the hooks, to no avail. Believing that perhaps the screws had been screwed in too far, I placed The Mirror on the floor, and unscrewed the screws a touch. Again I attempted to hook the hooks, after struggling for a few more minutes, I enlisted Jaclyn's help a second time, with me supporting the thing, and she directing. But again to no avail. Beginning to feel a bit frustrated, I placed The Mirror on the floor and stood staring at the screws, using my superior mental abilites to convince them to work. I tired a third time. This time, Amy passed by and offered her support. As I supported The Mirror (which seemed to grow heavier by the second), Amy directed. After a little bit, Amy asked if I had measured the distance between the hooks, to which I answered YES, but she shyly suggested that the distance was maybe not quite accurate, as one of the hooks appeared to miss the screw alltogether. At this point I switched positions with her to determine that she was indeed correct and my measuring abilities were sucky at best. In a moment of insanity, I drilled another hole right next to the first hole, which only succeeded in making the hole bigger resulting in the same problem as my first attempt (it was a moment of insanity . . . frustration does that to me). So I put The Mirror back on the floor, out of the way, put the drill and everything else away, and taking out the polyfill, filled the stupid hole for a second time.

Considering that I had to allow the polyfill to dry, I happily ignored The Mirror for the rest of the week. On Thursday night, Amy asked if I had any plans for the weekend, to which I replied "Hang The Mirror". I succeeded to ignore The Mirror, Friday night and all day Saturday, but as Sunday dawned I knew that I had to put up that Mirror, or die trying. I refused to allow a piece of furniture to defeat me (also I had told Amy that I was going to hang it, and my pride refused to allow that not to happen)!

So I began my third attempt. I decided that it would be best to make two new holes as I no longer trusted the previous holes being able to support anything. Measuring the distance between the hooks (three times), I carefully drilled two holes below the previous attempt. I then pounded in two screw support thingys (those plastic things which help support screws when they are drilled into drywall and not a 2x4), and drilled in my screws. Calling upon Rachel to help I attempted to hook The Mirror onto the screws. But it was not to be. It was as if The Mirror had decided that its residence on the floor was a much more comfortable existence than the wall, and it refused to catch the screws. I unscrewed the screws, believeing that maybe they were too far in, so the hooks could not catch. But even this seemed not to work. Frustration was mounting, but my pride was on the line. It appeared that one of the screws could catch the hook, but not the other. So unscrewing them I searched for a screw that more closely resembled the one that did catch. I found one screw which had the sharp edge which seemed to be required, but it was too thin and did not fit snuggly in the hole. I was beginning to believe that The Mirror would never hang, when I found it . . . The exact match to the good screw. With abated breath I screwed in the screws, called for Rachel, and hoisted The Mirror. The thing refused to catch, we wiggled one way than the other . . . until suddenly, Rachel cried that one screw had caught, but would the other. I had believed that they would both need to be caught at the same time to work (because of their size), and so it was with little faith that we attempted to wiggle the mirror back and forth. It was really kind of anti-climatic when the hook finally caught. It did it without much fanfare. I must admit, I was kind of hoping for trumpets or something of the like. The thing was hung! The wall was a mess - scrapped and scratched from attempting to catch the screws, and The Mirror was covered in figures, nose and forehead smudges, but it was hung. I thanked Rachel most graciously for her assistance, then went to gather paint and cleaner to cover the scratches and remove the smudges.

The next day as I was walking past The Mirror, I noticed that the stupid thing had gotten the better of me. Though it was hanging, it had the last laugh . . . for I had hung it crooked! But to tell the truth, I don't care. The thing is hung and that's good enough for me. If the fact that its crooked bothers you, just tilt your head and all will be well!