Okay, so I have a red front door, and it's possibly the only thing in the house that I'm not painting. Egad!
My contractor guy just finished his work, and I'm psyched. No more Sound of Music window in the master bedroom. And, he did a bunch of other stuff, too. Most of it seems to look good, but I may to get him to fix something he did, which I'm dreading asking about. I may be a lawyer by day, but when it comes to standing up for myself, it doesn't come very easy.
This weekend is all painting, all the time. I'm hoping to get most of it done, so I can relax and spend more time picking out orange curtains and orange chairs and other things orange.
Meanwhile, I'm taking a moment to watch Grey's Anatomy. I was psyched because dreamy Scot, Kevin McKidd joined the cast. But, he looks all scruufy-ish, instead of the clean-cut journalist he portrayed in the ill-fated -- but much loved by me -- series Journeyman. Actually, I started describe him as rogue-ish, but that reminds me now of Sarah Palin, and he looks nothing like her. Speaking of which, I'm a little peeved that after this election, the word Maverick now makes me think of Sarah Palin -- really Tina Fey as Sarah Palin -- instead of Top Gun. That's truly a shame.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Total Eclipse of the Heart
So very tired. Painting is exhausting, and I'm beginning to wonder why I didn't try to hire someone to do it. Oh yeah, that's right -- because I have no money after buying the house, and I'm plagued with a puritan work ethic that says why hire someone to do something you are perfectly capable of doing.
But the ceilings have been painted. One whole day to paint a white ceiling, well, white. Not at all satisfying like painting a bathroom red, or removing purple paint from the bedroom.
Meanwhile, I've had a change of heart about the sellers. I was frustrated before the closing, but I've decided they are okay. They covered up all their nail holes and painted them, which is big in my book. Plus, the fixtures they installed in the bathrooms and kitchen are very nice, as is the granite countertop they added. So I'm glad we have the same bourgeois taste and sensibilities. And I now like them, on account of the spackling and the fixtures.
But the ceilings have been painted. One whole day to paint a white ceiling, well, white. Not at all satisfying like painting a bathroom red, or removing purple paint from the bedroom.
Meanwhile, I've had a change of heart about the sellers. I was frustrated before the closing, but I've decided they are okay. They covered up all their nail holes and painted them, which is big in my book. Plus, the fixtures they installed in the bathrooms and kitchen are very nice, as is the granite countertop they added. So I'm glad we have the same bourgeois taste and sensibilities. And I now like them, on account of the spackling and the fixtures.
Saturday, November 1, 2008
This is not my beautiful house...
I'm officially a homeowner. Closing went well and was done in less than an hour. I tried not to think about all the responsibility as I signed all the papers. Just the fun decorating part.
I love it. I LOVE IT! It had me at hello. Well, actually it didn't. But like Tom Cruise as Jerry Maguire in, well, Jerry Maguire, after sixty days of doubt, questions, daydreams, etc., I'm all in. (I did not, however, shoplift any pooty, or any other thing for that matter.) I'm so excited.
And, I cleared major hurdles today when I had the whole family over. I thought they were going to be freaked out by any number of things. My house, being in the city and everything, does not look like it's worth anywhere near what I paid, particularly when you compare it to my parents' mcmansion in the maryland exurbs. So I thought that would freak them out. That, or the fact that the Checker's up the street has boarded up windows.
But, the weather was on my side, and it was bright and sunny as my family drove up. So, they saw the house like I did that first day, when it was sunny and warm, and you couldn't but help imagine having a cookout on the pretty patio. Everyone liked the house, and they helped me fix a few small things. PLUS -- my sister brought a bottle of ridiculously expensive champagne that she received for her wedding to toast the new house. Yay bubbly!
Up next: This week I'm hiring a contractor to fill-in a weird cut-out wallspace in my bedroom, and picking paint colors. I'm getting psyched about the move.
I love it. I LOVE IT! It had me at hello. Well, actually it didn't. But like Tom Cruise as Jerry Maguire in, well, Jerry Maguire, after sixty days of doubt, questions, daydreams, etc., I'm all in. (I did not, however, shoplift any pooty, or any other thing for that matter.) I'm so excited.
And, I cleared major hurdles today when I had the whole family over. I thought they were going to be freaked out by any number of things. My house, being in the city and everything, does not look like it's worth anywhere near what I paid, particularly when you compare it to my parents' mcmansion in the maryland exurbs. So I thought that would freak them out. That, or the fact that the Checker's up the street has boarded up windows.
But, the weather was on my side, and it was bright and sunny as my family drove up. So, they saw the house like I did that first day, when it was sunny and warm, and you couldn't but help imagine having a cookout on the pretty patio. Everyone liked the house, and they helped me fix a few small things. PLUS -- my sister brought a bottle of ridiculously expensive champagne that she received for her wedding to toast the new house. Yay bubbly!
Up next: This week I'm hiring a contractor to fill-in a weird cut-out wallspace in my bedroom, and picking paint colors. I'm getting psyched about the move.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
What's New Pussycat?
So Facebook is turning out to be a fountain of awesome information -- not just evil intel about the people selling my new house.
I just got a friend request and email from someone I went to high school with -- memorable to me as the first boy I ever kissed. I think we went on a couple of dates, but it was not a huge "High School Romance" (lower-case r, to be sure). I seem to recall that things sort of petered out around the time he told me I shouldn't hang out with my friend Becky's cousin. Or, it could be shortly thereafter when some friends of the aforementioned cousin headbutted the boy in the parking lot after a Peter Murphy concert. (If it gives me any street cred whatsoever, it was a super small venue and Nine Inch Nails was the opening act.) So maybe he was right about the cousin's friends, but technically it's his fault, because they only headbutted him after I -- foolishly -- let it slip that he had said not to hang out with them. (Oh the drama of being 16 year-old girl.)
Shmanyway, the last time I saw him was at Morrissey concert (street cred?) right after high school graduation. I seem to recall that I drunkenly slid down the hill at the concert and landed at his feet in the lawn section at Merriweather Post Pavilion (okay, no street cred). Running in to him was a complete coincidence, and I never saw him after that. Later, I heard vague rumours that someone had seen him at a Halloween party of some Maryland Institute of Art folks, wrapped in saran wrap or something like that. He was artsy.
You can imagine my surprise, then, to learn that the artsy boy from my youth is now working for an ultra-conservative southern republican senator. (Insert maniacal villian laughter sound effect.) I never would have guessed that the artsy photography boy grew up to be a republican Hill staffer. Life is completely unpredictable.
And on that note, I'm off to play a little It's Not Unusual in honor of the artsy republican, who shares the same name as the swinging lounge singer. (allright -- I've lost all street cred.)
I just got a friend request and email from someone I went to high school with -- memorable to me as the first boy I ever kissed. I think we went on a couple of dates, but it was not a huge "High School Romance" (lower-case r, to be sure). I seem to recall that things sort of petered out around the time he told me I shouldn't hang out with my friend Becky's cousin. Or, it could be shortly thereafter when some friends of the aforementioned cousin headbutted the boy in the parking lot after a Peter Murphy concert. (If it gives me any street cred whatsoever, it was a super small venue and Nine Inch Nails was the opening act.) So maybe he was right about the cousin's friends, but technically it's his fault, because they only headbutted him after I -- foolishly -- let it slip that he had said not to hang out with them. (Oh the drama of being 16 year-old girl.)
Shmanyway, the last time I saw him was at Morrissey concert (street cred?) right after high school graduation. I seem to recall that I drunkenly slid down the hill at the concert and landed at his feet in the lawn section at Merriweather Post Pavilion (okay, no street cred). Running in to him was a complete coincidence, and I never saw him after that. Later, I heard vague rumours that someone had seen him at a Halloween party of some Maryland Institute of Art folks, wrapped in saran wrap or something like that. He was artsy.
You can imagine my surprise, then, to learn that the artsy boy from my youth is now working for an ultra-conservative southern republican senator. (Insert maniacal villian laughter sound effect.) I never would have guessed that the artsy photography boy grew up to be a republican Hill staffer. Life is completely unpredictable.
And on that note, I'm off to play a little It's Not Unusual in honor of the artsy republican, who shares the same name as the swinging lounge singer. (allright -- I've lost all street cred.)
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Would You Be Mine, Could You Be Mine, Won't You Be My Neighbor
Five days until I'm officially a homeowner. I got a jumpstart on things today by stopping by a house party on my new block. I met a bunch of my neighbors, a number of whom I thought were awesome. (Sidenote: My hostess ran the Marine Corps marathon, and then had 40 friends over for chili and fall treats. Talk about raising the bar.) I'm super psyched about the block. (Although slightly neverous that I may have run my mouth too much about the sellers -- am still angry about being called a PITA. Of course, I'm not sure that anyone really liked them, either. So it may be a wash.)
This is also the first time in my adult housing life where I'll know the neighbors, too. In NYC, I didn't know anyone, except for the slightly crazy woman living next to me in Brooklyn. So, it's fun to have neighbors on the street who maybe will invite you over to play Guitar Hero or something (as was discussed this afternoon). PLUS, one of my good friends lives on the block already, so I'll have a SuperNeighbor, as I like to think of her.
Meanwhile, back at the apartamento, I've been sorting through old paperwork trying to get rid of stuff for the move. I just went through a box of stuff from my office in NYC, that I hadn't looked at since I left some 18 months ago. It's kind of fun to pack your boxes and never look back. But now I'm looking back -- at least to organize the random stuffs in my apartment.
This is also the first time in my adult housing life where I'll know the neighbors, too. In NYC, I didn't know anyone, except for the slightly crazy woman living next to me in Brooklyn. So, it's fun to have neighbors on the street who maybe will invite you over to play Guitar Hero or something (as was discussed this afternoon). PLUS, one of my good friends lives on the block already, so I'll have a SuperNeighbor, as I like to think of her.
Meanwhile, back at the apartamento, I've been sorting through old paperwork trying to get rid of stuff for the move. I just went through a box of stuff from my office in NYC, that I hadn't looked at since I left some 18 months ago. It's kind of fun to pack your boxes and never look back. But now I'm looking back -- at least to organize the random stuffs in my apartment.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Blue Jean...I just met a girl named Blue Jean
I was watching What Not to Wear today, thinking about how I'd feel if Clinton and Stacey surprised me for a fashion makeover. On the one hand, you get $5000 worth of new clothing. And I definitely could use some more fashionable clothing. On the other hand, you have to suffer through the embarassment of having cameras follow you around in all your shlumpy outfits. Plus, I suspect you are limited to whatever store they want to send you to, as a result of their product placement. So instead of buying $5000 of awesome clothing, they would send me to somewhere random and I'd end up with all sorts of goofiness.
Meanwhile, I'm on the eternal quest for the perfect pair of jeans. In an attempt to find one good pair, I purchased 8 -- yes, that's eight -- pairs this fall. I had to try on probably 50 pairs to get to that number. I have no intention of keeping all 8, I just wanted to bring them home to compare. So seven pairs are going back, and it turns out I'm not that happy with the pair I decided to keep. The best of the bunch, for sure, but still not awesome.
How hard is it to find the perfect pair of jeans? It's the holy grail for the mid-30's woman -- how to find the pair that's not too dark, not too light. Neither too long, nor too short. Not too mom-like, or too emo. It might be worth it go on WNTW, just to get the ultimate pair of jeans.
Meanwhile, I'm on the eternal quest for the perfect pair of jeans. In an attempt to find one good pair, I purchased 8 -- yes, that's eight -- pairs this fall. I had to try on probably 50 pairs to get to that number. I have no intention of keeping all 8, I just wanted to bring them home to compare. So seven pairs are going back, and it turns out I'm not that happy with the pair I decided to keep. The best of the bunch, for sure, but still not awesome.
How hard is it to find the perfect pair of jeans? It's the holy grail for the mid-30's woman -- how to find the pair that's not too dark, not too light. Neither too long, nor too short. Not too mom-like, or too emo. It might be worth it go on WNTW, just to get the ultimate pair of jeans.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
This is not my Beautiful House...
Just over a week until I close on the new house. Part of me is super excited, and part of me is completely freaked out. I suppose it's good that as of this week, I'm more frequently excited than freaked out.
Also, I made the mistake of looking up the sellers on facebook to see if they had any comments about the house. The wife seems cool. But, the husband had a few bad comments about the neighborhood, selling the house, and whatnot. Sounds like he couldn't leave fast enough. It makes me anxious, thinking "What the hell have I gotten myself into?" On the other hand, the guy seems like he may not be cut out for city living at all. Plus, he loves the crap out of McCain. An unreliable narrator, as they would say. So, I'm trying to ignore the random stuff he said -- it's not like it's stuff I didn't know, anyway.
It does raise the question, though -- In the internet age, is there ever such a thing as too much information? I'd usually answer the question, "No." I think being well-informed leads to better decisions. On the other hand, maybe there comes a point when it's just too much information. For a deliberate person like myself, all that info can leave your brain running in circles.
In any case, it will be good to own a house, have cookouts, and get out of this apartment building.
Also, I made the mistake of looking up the sellers on facebook to see if they had any comments about the house. The wife seems cool. But, the husband had a few bad comments about the neighborhood, selling the house, and whatnot. Sounds like he couldn't leave fast enough. It makes me anxious, thinking "What the hell have I gotten myself into?" On the other hand, the guy seems like he may not be cut out for city living at all. Plus, he loves the crap out of McCain. An unreliable narrator, as they would say. So, I'm trying to ignore the random stuff he said -- it's not like it's stuff I didn't know, anyway.
It does raise the question, though -- In the internet age, is there ever such a thing as too much information? I'd usually answer the question, "No." I think being well-informed leads to better decisions. On the other hand, maybe there comes a point when it's just too much information. For a deliberate person like myself, all that info can leave your brain running in circles.
In any case, it will be good to own a house, have cookouts, and get out of this apartment building.
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