Since we're on the house, I think it's time for me to address this phobia that I've developed. It's packing.
In November, I packed up a ton of crap (since we were supposed to be moving in around last Christmas). All my books, save for the three that I was reading, all the living room knicknacks, a lot of nonessential kitchen gear, like extra pots, pans, serving dishes, etc, winter clothes, summer clothes, clothes that have gotten to be too big for us, a bunch of Alden's toys... Just, a ton of random crap, right? Thinking we were only going to be without these things for a month, tops.
It's almost August. 8 months have gone by, that I've been without that stuff. No biggie, nonessential, right? Well, it's that time again, I'm afraid. I know, deep in my heart that I should start packing again, so we can just hustle over there. We could be living there in three weeks. It could also take another 5 months. We're relying on unreliable people, we have a lot of inspections to go through still, and shoot, I might wind up strangling the plumber, and we all know what a pain in the ass it is, to find a new guy, mid job.
I know I should pack, and be optimistic. I'm not going to, though. Not till I have the Code of Occupancy in my hand (or at least processing). Optimism has gotten me nowhere.
7.30.2004
Small Victory
Remember the progress/no progress entry? Well, unbeknownst to me, the boss (Joe) walked around the house, last night, checking up on what his guys did (for 3 days worth of work. They were supposed to be there for 3 days. 6 hours, remember.) And was horrified. He found the beer cans in the trash, knows we don't drink that shit. He found the cigarette butts on the floor in the living room (which even I missed), and he found that the majority of the work was uncompleted.
He fired the two guys responsible. We thought he just took them off the job, but, turns out, he fired them. He pulled his best guy (whom I really like, this dude named Peto) from a high $$ job, and will having him complete the work, solo. Peto is gonna work every day, till the job is done.
It's about goddamned time things started looking up. It's about goddamned time Joe got his shit together and started acting like a business man.
He fired the two guys responsible. We thought he just took them off the job, but, turns out, he fired them. He pulled his best guy (whom I really like, this dude named Peto) from a high $$ job, and will having him complete the work, solo. Peto is gonna work every day, till the job is done.
It's about goddamned time things started looking up. It's about goddamned time Joe got his shit together and started acting like a business man.
7.28.2004
Some before and after shots
I've been bitching a lot about the house. Here's some pictures to throw it all in relativity. Every single room was smoke damaged. The kitchen, dining room, some bedroom, and front of the utility room was actually burned.
The entire heating system was replaced, central AC was added. Brand new plumbing and electrical, as well. Everything was ripped out and replaced. The only original stuff is some of the floors, and most of the outside shell. The roof was ripped down to the rafters, and replaced, along with the burnt rafters. The whole covered porch was replaced. Lots of behind the scenes work, too, like sagging floors had to be jacked up and joisted, a good deal of mason work, etc.
The interior changed a little, too, like the utility room, the stairs were replaced, and modified, there was a front porch, which was replaced by a front hall, and my son's bedroom. The upstairs was half attic, a huuuuge closet, and a tiny bedroom. We ripped out the walls, moved them way back, and got rid of the giant closet, trimming it to a svelte 2 ft wide. Changed it into a loft, with the bedroom door at the foot of the steps. One of the best features of the bedroom is the 4 ft. windows on opposing walls, turning it into an airy, sunny lofty room with a semi-view.
The covered porch-before After the fire, before the work got started.
Kitchen-before I wish I had a better panorama shot of the inside of the kitchen.
Kitchen-today No countertops, sink, stove, or fridge yet. Somehow Pookie managed to get her ass in the shot, too.
Utility room-before
front of utility room-before This was a long hall/laundry room thing that you had to walk through to get into the bathroom. We moved walls, and divided the area up, so the kitchen flows smoothly into the bathroom, and all the laundry stuff is hidden away.
utility area-today We moved the door to the middle of the kitchen wall, and changed the one long corridor into two rooms, essentially. One that leads into the bathroom/laundry room, and one laundry room. Freezer, hot water heater, and laundry stuff is hidden, and the furnace has moved into the attic. That was one of the major wall-moving renovations.
Bathroom before *shudder* The funny thing is, it was ALMOST that filthy, before the house burned.
Bathroom today Well, just the vanity, and sink. I'm so proud of the vanity and sink. Since the bathroom isn't a true 5', and the vanity was, we had to cut out a section of wall (after everything was freshly sheet rocked, heh). It slid in there, like buttah, though, and is perfect.
Living room/porch-before Ugh, these people loved paneling. That door is gone, that wall was moved 3 feet out, to enlarge that room, for my son's room. Instead of the front door being in the room now, there's a hallway. Essentially, we shaved 3 feet off the front of the room (for the hall), and widened it 3 feet.
From the middle of the living room-before This is sorta standing in the middle of the living room, looking towards the kitchen. You can see where the dining room used to be, and the utility room door. All gone. That dividing wall was yanked, and the stairs were all changed.
Living room today That's standing in the kitchen entry, looking out across the living room. The opposing wall is the boy's room.
living room, looking into the kitchen Same room, opposite angle, pardon the dust. You can see how the utility room was altered. This is right around the same spot that the before pic was taken, from the middle of the living room.
To be continued, because I'm gonna run over there and snap pics of the boy's room, front hall, stairs, loft, and more of the outside.
The entire heating system was replaced, central AC was added. Brand new plumbing and electrical, as well. Everything was ripped out and replaced. The only original stuff is some of the floors, and most of the outside shell. The roof was ripped down to the rafters, and replaced, along with the burnt rafters. The whole covered porch was replaced. Lots of behind the scenes work, too, like sagging floors had to be jacked up and joisted, a good deal of mason work, etc.
The interior changed a little, too, like the utility room, the stairs were replaced, and modified, there was a front porch, which was replaced by a front hall, and my son's bedroom. The upstairs was half attic, a huuuuge closet, and a tiny bedroom. We ripped out the walls, moved them way back, and got rid of the giant closet, trimming it to a svelte 2 ft wide. Changed it into a loft, with the bedroom door at the foot of the steps. One of the best features of the bedroom is the 4 ft. windows on opposing walls, turning it into an airy, sunny lofty room with a semi-view.
The covered porch-before After the fire, before the work got started.
Kitchen-before I wish I had a better panorama shot of the inside of the kitchen.
Kitchen-today No countertops, sink, stove, or fridge yet. Somehow Pookie managed to get her ass in the shot, too.
Utility room-before
front of utility room-before This was a long hall/laundry room thing that you had to walk through to get into the bathroom. We moved walls, and divided the area up, so the kitchen flows smoothly into the bathroom, and all the laundry stuff is hidden away.
utility area-today We moved the door to the middle of the kitchen wall, and changed the one long corridor into two rooms, essentially. One that leads into the bathroom/laundry room, and one laundry room. Freezer, hot water heater, and laundry stuff is hidden, and the furnace has moved into the attic. That was one of the major wall-moving renovations.
Bathroom before *shudder* The funny thing is, it was ALMOST that filthy, before the house burned.
Bathroom today Well, just the vanity, and sink. I'm so proud of the vanity and sink. Since the bathroom isn't a true 5', and the vanity was, we had to cut out a section of wall (after everything was freshly sheet rocked, heh). It slid in there, like buttah, though, and is perfect.
Living room/porch-before Ugh, these people loved paneling. That door is gone, that wall was moved 3 feet out, to enlarge that room, for my son's room. Instead of the front door being in the room now, there's a hallway. Essentially, we shaved 3 feet off the front of the room (for the hall), and widened it 3 feet.
From the middle of the living room-before This is sorta standing in the middle of the living room, looking towards the kitchen. You can see where the dining room used to be, and the utility room door. All gone. That dividing wall was yanked, and the stairs were all changed.
Living room today That's standing in the kitchen entry, looking out across the living room. The opposing wall is the boy's room.
living room, looking into the kitchen Same room, opposite angle, pardon the dust. You can see how the utility room was altered. This is right around the same spot that the before pic was taken, from the middle of the living room.
To be continued, because I'm gonna run over there and snap pics of the boy's room, front hall, stairs, loft, and more of the outside.
July
I've decided that July has got to go. Totally superfluous month. I decree that July will hereby be stricken from the calendar, in exchange for two Octobers. October is the best month of the year, we need at least twice the Octobery goodness. July sucks. Hot, sticky, nothing really going on. Now, I know what you're thinking, what about the 4th, what about my birthday, what about your anniversary!?
There's no holidays in August, so, we can just shuffle them all over to August. 2 months is enough for summer, I think. June is still fun, getting out of school, the cool late spring nights, etc. August is a good month for vacationing, getting ready to go back to school, enjoying the early harvests, and that slow, sleepy late summer feeling. July, well, meh. It's like summer purgatory.
Here's to the rest of summer flying the hell by, and fall getting here asap. Three cheers for September.
There's no holidays in August, so, we can just shuffle them all over to August. 2 months is enough for summer, I think. June is still fun, getting out of school, the cool late spring nights, etc. August is a good month for vacationing, getting ready to go back to school, enjoying the early harvests, and that slow, sleepy late summer feeling. July, well, meh. It's like summer purgatory.
Here's to the rest of summer flying the hell by, and fall getting here asap. Three cheers for September.
No progress, whatsoever
The guys were there for 6 hours, yesterday. Two things were done. The cabinets were lifted to the ceiling, and the bottom ones were readjusted, so as to be centered. That's it. Six hours.
Ok, well, to be fair, they did more than that. They drank four beers, and stunk the house up with cigarette smoke and Lysol.
Ok, well, to be fair, they did more than that. They drank four beers, and stunk the house up with cigarette smoke and Lysol.
7.27.2004
Progress
Joe's crew is back working next door. For the first time since we had them removed from the property, by the cops. So, progress is happening, again, and that's good. What pisses me off about it, though, is that they were supposed to come last week. The mister was supposed to take a day off, and babysit them in the house, so they didn't steal any more stuff or fuck more shit up. Because that's what they do.
I only allowed them to come back and finish the job, with the stipulation that he would oversee the work. I can't, because I would like nothing more than to pop my thumbs through Joe's eyes. Joe mostly feels the same way about me, and I'm afraid the two of us on the same job would get violent.
So, I backed down, I relented about letting them finish the job, and now my only point of compromise has been ignored. People wonder why I stopped fucking caring about the house, all together. I walked off the job, and is it any wonder why? No one took me serious. No one honors their word. No one does things the way I specify. From missing inspection dates, to not returning phone calls, to blatantly disregarding blueprints, to, well, attempting to kick my ass physically, I simply can't take it anymore.
People who I thought were doing well have dropped the ball. I've been trying to get a hold of the plumber (a former close friend of mine, yes, former, the unreliable fuck) for two months. For every 15 or so times I call him, I get one return call, and a promise that he's gonna be there on a certain day. That day comes and goes, I call 15 more times, he makes lame excuses, sets a new day, wash rinse repeat. He has roughly 3 hours of work left to do. The mister has done everything he knows how to do, so far, there's just a few more little things for the plumber to do, with his special plumber tools. Hell, I bet if we had the tools, we could do that shit.
This project has shown me the nasty underbelly of humanity. Sounds dramatic, I know. Lying, theiving, drug addicted, unreliable, disrespectful, alcoholic, misogynist assholes, the lot of them. At this advanced stage, even the 'good' ones, have made my shit list.
I only allowed them to come back and finish the job, with the stipulation that he would oversee the work. I can't, because I would like nothing more than to pop my thumbs through Joe's eyes. Joe mostly feels the same way about me, and I'm afraid the two of us on the same job would get violent.
So, I backed down, I relented about letting them finish the job, and now my only point of compromise has been ignored. People wonder why I stopped fucking caring about the house, all together. I walked off the job, and is it any wonder why? No one took me serious. No one honors their word. No one does things the way I specify. From missing inspection dates, to not returning phone calls, to blatantly disregarding blueprints, to, well, attempting to kick my ass physically, I simply can't take it anymore.
People who I thought were doing well have dropped the ball. I've been trying to get a hold of the plumber (a former close friend of mine, yes, former, the unreliable fuck) for two months. For every 15 or so times I call him, I get one return call, and a promise that he's gonna be there on a certain day. That day comes and goes, I call 15 more times, he makes lame excuses, sets a new day, wash rinse repeat. He has roughly 3 hours of work left to do. The mister has done everything he knows how to do, so far, there's just a few more little things for the plumber to do, with his special plumber tools. Hell, I bet if we had the tools, we could do that shit.
This project has shown me the nasty underbelly of humanity. Sounds dramatic, I know. Lying, theiving, drug addicted, unreliable, disrespectful, alcoholic, misogynist assholes, the lot of them. At this advanced stage, even the 'good' ones, have made my shit list.
7.26.2004
Wrong Coast
I'm starting to believe it, even. So, I've homogenized my little group of eFriends (who are starting to mean more to me, then some people I know irl, but that's another entry, I think). But, they're all on the west coast. Which means, when I'm free to talk (my early morning and afternoon) they're all sleeping. When I should be sleeping (like, after midnight here) their parties are just getting started, or they just settle in for a night of being online.
My schedule is evolving in this weird way. A few factors cause it, like my lack of jobby things to do, the house is in stasis, Alden's not in school, so nothing drags me out of the house at 7 a.m., etc. That's all a fact, but the formative thing is the west coast friends.
I find myself staying up till three, and sleeping till 11. Getting housework , job work, and errands done before three, when they all generally tumble out of bed, and then I can kiss off the rest of the day.
It's a strange, easy going schedule. So far, it isn't causing problems, but it's definitely different. Plus, some people are worth it, seriously worth it.
My schedule is evolving in this weird way. A few factors cause it, like my lack of jobby things to do, the house is in stasis, Alden's not in school, so nothing drags me out of the house at 7 a.m., etc. That's all a fact, but the formative thing is the west coast friends.
I find myself staying up till three, and sleeping till 11. Getting housework , job work, and errands done before three, when they all generally tumble out of bed, and then I can kiss off the rest of the day.
It's a strange, easy going schedule. So far, it isn't causing problems, but it's definitely different. Plus, some people are worth it, seriously worth it.
7.25.2004
Bad Moments in Parenting
Sometimes, as a parent, ya just have these moments.
So, I ordered a new di- er, novelty cock, right? A cute one, from a German company, in the shape of Aphrodite. Got it on Friday, discarded the packaging.
Those wacky Germans included this long pamphlet with a whoooooole range of their other products. Some vibrating, or water proof, some 100% silecone, a myriad of colors LUCKILY, none realistic looking. When I say long pamphlet, the thing unfolded to about 2 feet long. I was amused with it, so, I folded it all back up, and used it as a bookmark.
This morning, I get up, and I found a section of it on the floor. The boy found it. I asked him where the rest of it was. He was like "that paper with all the magic wands on it?" Me: "Yes, yes, that's exactly right, the one with all the magic wands on it. May I have the rest?" He produced it, all torn to pieces, I garbaged it, as I should have yesterday.
I'm so flustered.
So, I ordered a new di- er, novelty cock, right? A cute one, from a German company, in the shape of Aphrodite. Got it on Friday, discarded the packaging.
Those wacky Germans included this long pamphlet with a whoooooole range of their other products. Some vibrating, or water proof, some 100% silecone, a myriad of colors LUCKILY, none realistic looking. When I say long pamphlet, the thing unfolded to about 2 feet long. I was amused with it, so, I folded it all back up, and used it as a bookmark.
This morning, I get up, and I found a section of it on the floor. The boy found it. I asked him where the rest of it was. He was like "that paper with all the magic wands on it?" Me: "Yes, yes, that's exactly right, the one with all the magic wands on it. May I have the rest?" He produced it, all torn to pieces, I garbaged it, as I should have yesterday.
I'm so flustered.
7.24.2004
All in one!
Anything that boasts that it can do 15 things, doesn't do any one of them properly. That's a fact. If you're tempted to get an all-in-one printer/scanner/fax, be prepared to have them all either perform those tasks with utmost mediocrity, or, not perform all those tasks, or, just bitch up regularly, and be a pain in the ass. This goes for everything. Kitchen gadgets, car junk, electronics. Whatever.
It SLICES!! IT DICES!! IT JULIANNES!! Well, no, not really. It slices, sorta, but if you move it like this, it falls apart. It dices, but only after it slices, and only if it doesn't fall apart. And who the fuck is Julianne?
It SLICES!! IT DICES!! IT JULIANNES!! Well, no, not really. It slices, sorta, but if you move it like this, it falls apart. It dices, but only after it slices, and only if it doesn't fall apart. And who the fuck is Julianne?
Saturday Morning
I wish I could find a place that would deliver a nice ham and cheese sandwich, and maybe a cup of split pea soup. I'm mildly hung over, hungry, not in the mood to cook anything, not dressed, and with no desire to change my situation.
I need a deli that delivers.
This living room is covered with flecks of dried drink. I think I broke a glass, but I don't remember. One is in the sink, both shotglasses, and one is MIA. Ah well, when I step on glass, I'll have my answer.
This is how every Saturday morning goes, more or less. I try to recreate the night before, by going through chat logs, and posts on the boards. I'm always hoping I didn't do anything really embarassing.
So strange, though, because I actually PREFER to do this sort of thing, on weekends. We're too broke to go out, like we used to, and we really can't anyway, with no one to watch Alden. It's either do this drunk, or sober. Drunk is much more entertaining, but the cleanup is a bitch.
I asked myself this a few months ago. Am I an alcoholic? No. But, I keep checking, just in case.
I need a deli that delivers.
This living room is covered with flecks of dried drink. I think I broke a glass, but I don't remember. One is in the sink, both shotglasses, and one is MIA. Ah well, when I step on glass, I'll have my answer.
This is how every Saturday morning goes, more or less. I try to recreate the night before, by going through chat logs, and posts on the boards. I'm always hoping I didn't do anything really embarassing.
So strange, though, because I actually PREFER to do this sort of thing, on weekends. We're too broke to go out, like we used to, and we really can't anyway, with no one to watch Alden. It's either do this drunk, or sober. Drunk is much more entertaining, but the cleanup is a bitch.
I asked myself this a few months ago. Am I an alcoholic? No. But, I keep checking, just in case.
7.21.2004
Mind
I was thinking about chess. Chess pisses me off. Checkers, too, but not so much. You'd think it's a good game for a smart person to play. I'm smart. No, really, I am. It's funny, I always feel like I have to prove myself, intellect wise. I used to go around telling people my IQ, but I got sick of defending myself, because those people were skeptical. I don't tell people anymore.
My parents took me to the University of Louisville, when I was 5, for a thorough mental examination. I have, in my posession, a 30 page report of every aspect of my intellect, as it was when I was 5, i.e. a very long winded IQ test. Now, I know IQ doesn't mean everything, but I figure, a real idiot couldn't even fake it, to get that high of a score, so even if I'm not all THAT smart, there's something there, right? Plus, it's, like, all I got. When they find a way to accurately, numerically measure the more accurate 7 intelligences, I'll be all over that. Plus, I feel like I got wholly jipped, education wise. Thank you mom.
But, I digress, chess pisses me off. I never learned when I was a kid. I didn't grow up around "chess people" No one bothered to teach me. I finally learned when I was in my early 20's. But, I was never around anyone who took the time to teach me more than the basic moves. The guy who taught me how to play, showed me the basics, then beat me in 5 moves. So, naturally, I didn't really learn. I've played all of 4 times, since. 3-4-5 moves, and I lose. I came to the reason why, and this has a lot to do with my intellect, and how people percieve me.
I'm not a quick thinker, when it isn't crucial. I have to stare hard at the board, and think about it forever. I'm a deep thinker, but, I'm not that quick. Generally, decisions I make on the fly turn out to be bad ones, so, I just don't do it anymore. That carries over to my very meager chess game. But, then, I get worried about looking dumb, and embarassed for taking too long, so, I punch it, and doom myself. It's almost embarassing, not to be a quick thinker, most times. I take a long time to answer questions. Feels like I come off as dumb.
It's funny, because it seems like I reserve the quick thinking for when it really counts. I'm excellent under pressure. Pressure, in fact, is my crutch. I can't accomplish things, unless there's pressure. I live for it. That's when I shine. Yes, I put off my term papers, till the last week of the term. Yes, I produced flawless 20-30 page papers, completely cited, thoroughly thought through. Yes, I did nothing BUT schoolwork, for those last few days. I LOVED it. I got a CHARGE from killing myself like that. I've tried doing it the old fashioned way, but, my papers always come out fragmented, rambling, and, well, bad. I make bad decisions, when I hurry, when it doesn't really count (games, ice cream flavors, etc) but, when it's crucial, when there's pressure, I'm aces.
My parents took me to the University of Louisville, when I was 5, for a thorough mental examination. I have, in my posession, a 30 page report of every aspect of my intellect, as it was when I was 5, i.e. a very long winded IQ test. Now, I know IQ doesn't mean everything, but I figure, a real idiot couldn't even fake it, to get that high of a score, so even if I'm not all THAT smart, there's something there, right? Plus, it's, like, all I got. When they find a way to accurately, numerically measure the more accurate 7 intelligences, I'll be all over that. Plus, I feel like I got wholly jipped, education wise. Thank you mom.
But, I digress, chess pisses me off. I never learned when I was a kid. I didn't grow up around "chess people" No one bothered to teach me. I finally learned when I was in my early 20's. But, I was never around anyone who took the time to teach me more than the basic moves. The guy who taught me how to play, showed me the basics, then beat me in 5 moves. So, naturally, I didn't really learn. I've played all of 4 times, since. 3-4-5 moves, and I lose. I came to the reason why, and this has a lot to do with my intellect, and how people percieve me.
I'm not a quick thinker, when it isn't crucial. I have to stare hard at the board, and think about it forever. I'm a deep thinker, but, I'm not that quick. Generally, decisions I make on the fly turn out to be bad ones, so, I just don't do it anymore. That carries over to my very meager chess game. But, then, I get worried about looking dumb, and embarassed for taking too long, so, I punch it, and doom myself. It's almost embarassing, not to be a quick thinker, most times. I take a long time to answer questions. Feels like I come off as dumb.
It's funny, because it seems like I reserve the quick thinking for when it really counts. I'm excellent under pressure. Pressure, in fact, is my crutch. I can't accomplish things, unless there's pressure. I live for it. That's when I shine. Yes, I put off my term papers, till the last week of the term. Yes, I produced flawless 20-30 page papers, completely cited, thoroughly thought through. Yes, I did nothing BUT schoolwork, for those last few days. I LOVED it. I got a CHARGE from killing myself like that. I've tried doing it the old fashioned way, but, my papers always come out fragmented, rambling, and, well, bad. I make bad decisions, when I hurry, when it doesn't really count (games, ice cream flavors, etc) but, when it's crucial, when there's pressure, I'm aces.
First, some nice things
It's very pleasant, when someone you really, genuinely like, suprises you with a very nice statement. Right out of the blue. Good feeling. Especially when you know it's not cheap flattery.
Another thing. When it's hot late at night, and you're laying there with a weak fan blowing on you, it's sticky, you can't get to sleep, you're tired, irritated, and overheated. Then, you hear the trees rustle, and an instant later, the wind changes and blows a cool, almost chilly breeze, over you. That's instantly relaxing, and will knock me out, every time.
Another thing. When it's hot late at night, and you're laying there with a weak fan blowing on you, it's sticky, you can't get to sleep, you're tired, irritated, and overheated. Then, you hear the trees rustle, and an instant later, the wind changes and blows a cool, almost chilly breeze, over you. That's instantly relaxing, and will knock me out, every time.
7.17.2004
I learned
Something very interesting about myself, last night. Me+webcam+booze+the right crowd...I can barely keep my clothes on. Throw a felt tipped pen into the mix, and we've invented a whole new style of Drunken Debauchery.
Apparently certain parts of my anatomy, remind someone of girlscout cookies. I'm not sure whether to be flattered, or worried.
So, I was on cam all night last night, and miraculously, it did not steal my soul, nor did it steal my dignity (the key is, it's all about having the right crowd) BUT I'm still not gonna get one, for home. It would be a matter of time before complete nudity ensued, and that wouldn't be good for anyone.
Apparently certain parts of my anatomy, remind someone of girlscout cookies. I'm not sure whether to be flattered, or worried.
So, I was on cam all night last night, and miraculously, it did not steal my soul, nor did it steal my dignity (the key is, it's all about having the right crowd) BUT I'm still not gonna get one, for home. It would be a matter of time before complete nudity ensued, and that wouldn't be good for anyone.
7.16.2004
Kick Start
Three things I did today: (you're gonna laugh)
I stayed in bed till 11. I got up at 9, but, instead of leaping out of bed, I rolled over and grabbed my new book, Stiff, by Mary Roach. If you have a modicum of morbid curiosity, I highly recommend it. I bought it yesterday, and I'm almost done with it, lively read, impossible to put down.
I took stock of the liquor cabinet. My mom is out of town, leaving her enormous house, pool, hot tub, very long sofa, big screen TV, and stolen cable, alllll alone. SOMEONE HAS TO KEEP ALL THAT STUFF COMPANY!!! We fully intend to. We're bringing booze, too. Now for the agonizing decision of the day. Mai Tais, or Jamaican Blue...
I've been neglectful to my householdly duties this week, so I'm spending today in penitence. I mopped the bathroom floor, did the dishes, cleaned the skunky water out from around the dish drain, scrubbed the toilet, etc. All the nasty icky jobs that'll get my efforts noticed.
I stayed in bed till 11. I got up at 9, but, instead of leaping out of bed, I rolled over and grabbed my new book, Stiff, by Mary Roach. If you have a modicum of morbid curiosity, I highly recommend it. I bought it yesterday, and I'm almost done with it, lively read, impossible to put down.
I took stock of the liquor cabinet. My mom is out of town, leaving her enormous house, pool, hot tub, very long sofa, big screen TV, and stolen cable, alllll alone. SOMEONE HAS TO KEEP ALL THAT STUFF COMPANY!!! We fully intend to. We're bringing booze, too. Now for the agonizing decision of the day. Mai Tais, or Jamaican Blue...
I've been neglectful to my householdly duties this week, so I'm spending today in penitence. I mopped the bathroom floor, did the dishes, cleaned the skunky water out from around the dish drain, scrubbed the toilet, etc. All the nasty icky jobs that'll get my efforts noticed.
Still commenting!
I haven't been around in over a month, and people are still commenting. I wub joo guys.
Some stream of conciousness stuff...
I'm happy with myself, untill I see unflattering pictures. Then it does two things. Shatters my fragile self esteem, and motivates me to work out even more. All of a sudden, the lazy pilates, swimming the occasional lap, meandering walks, and meager dumbells I've been halfheartedly doing doesn't seem so effective. I just ordered two workout videos, power yoga, and fatburning pilates. I just wish I could work off the face fat. Tight body. Fat fucking face. Ah well, all I can do about that is continue eating right, and hope it starts melting off. Though, I have noticed in recent pictures, I have got some seriously nice legs. I must wear shorts and short skirts more often. Bag over my head, and a miniskirt. Accentuate the positive, etc.
More: My son has thousands of dollars worth of toys, in his room. Literally. When the TV's off limits (which it is, a good part of each day) he resorts to making mud outside, and playing in that, legos, playing with his shitty dollar store army guys (you know what kind, the teeny green plastic jobbers, that come in bags of 28474272037, and hurt like a bitch to step on), and markers and paper, or some combination of the above. Or books. He's *just* reading, so he'll grab a book off his shelf, and randomly identify words, till he can piece the story together. It's funny, and sad at the same time. Sad, because looking back, "Santa" didn't need to bust the bank, to bring him the 1400 miles of Hot Wheels tracks, and all the accoutrements. Santa didn't have to buy him Leap Pad, Imagination Desk, this electronic thing, that electronic thing. It makes me proud. It makes me poor. I feel dumb.
Some stream of conciousness stuff...
I'm happy with myself, untill I see unflattering pictures. Then it does two things. Shatters my fragile self esteem, and motivates me to work out even more. All of a sudden, the lazy pilates, swimming the occasional lap, meandering walks, and meager dumbells I've been halfheartedly doing doesn't seem so effective. I just ordered two workout videos, power yoga, and fatburning pilates. I just wish I could work off the face fat. Tight body. Fat fucking face. Ah well, all I can do about that is continue eating right, and hope it starts melting off. Though, I have noticed in recent pictures, I have got some seriously nice legs. I must wear shorts and short skirts more often. Bag over my head, and a miniskirt. Accentuate the positive, etc.
More: My son has thousands of dollars worth of toys, in his room. Literally. When the TV's off limits (which it is, a good part of each day) he resorts to making mud outside, and playing in that, legos, playing with his shitty dollar store army guys (you know what kind, the teeny green plastic jobbers, that come in bags of 28474272037, and hurt like a bitch to step on), and markers and paper, or some combination of the above. Or books. He's *just* reading, so he'll grab a book off his shelf, and randomly identify words, till he can piece the story together. It's funny, and sad at the same time. Sad, because looking back, "Santa" didn't need to bust the bank, to bring him the 1400 miles of Hot Wheels tracks, and all the accoutrements. Santa didn't have to buy him Leap Pad, Imagination Desk, this electronic thing, that electronic thing. It makes me proud. It makes me poor. I feel dumb.
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