Something About September

In 2005, I quit my job on the Friday before Labor Day weekend and spent the rest of the month trying to get the hell out of Dodge (aka Boston) before the rapidly-approaching winter. One of the most popular songs on the radio at that time was Green Day's "When September Ends," and it felt quite fitting to be asking the universe to hurry up and get me through this month and out of this life I had decided I didn't want anymore.

Fast-forward four years, and in September of 2009 my life was about to experience numerous earthquakes but I didn't realize it just yet. Two co-workers had left and a partner had announced he was leaving the practice of law altogether. I had taken on some of their responsibilities, and out of the blue I had also received a phone call from a federal goverment agency asking me to interview for the same job I had interviewed for in January, because I had been their #2 choice but the guy they had chosen to hire had decided to jump agencies just 6 months after starting. They were only interviewing me and one other guy, and they wanted to move quickly, so it seemed like getting hired was a VERY real possibility. At the very same time, I knew my coworker was in the final stages of interviewing for a fantastic opportunity elsewhere. We joked just before the Labor Day weekend about wanting to be the first of the two of us to give notice, because the rash of departures had started to freak people out. (Ultimately, she got the call first and put in her notice a year ago tomorrow, and I didn't get the nod for the government job because they were concerned I would decide to leave after a year or two in order to earn more money. They were probably right.)

Because the government job would have paid a lot less than my current job, my parents decided I needed to buy my house from them (long story made slightly less long: when we found my house I wasn't yet working and didn't qualify for a good mortgage rate, but they did, so they were the official buyers but I paid the mortgage for the first 3.5 years), and found a way through a mortgage broker to make this happen. We locked in a rate in late September, and a month later we closed and I took on the crushing debt load of my very own. We also discovered during this time that my roof was leaking (right after the Atlanta floods last year, September 18-22) and some other renovations were needed, so we hired a builder and started planning for the renovations that began in October.

At the same time, I had been talking off and on since July with a guy who I wanted to go out with and I was pretty sure he wanted to go out with me too, but despite a few abortive attempts to meet up somewhere we still had not yet gone out face to face. We shared a mutual friend (who had actually tried to set us up a year earlier but I said no), and she finally talked to me and then talked to him and basically found a way to push us both into getting the hell on with it, already. Right around this time we finally started talking on the phone and made plans for our first date, plans that I would ultimately have to cancel because I got sick. We ended up going out for the first time later in September, and having a great time. It was the start of something different and exciting. (Things didn't work out in the end, but it was still a VERY fun fall...)

I was about to become insanely busy at work, and I was about to get sick 5 times in 6 months (likely because of said work insanity.) Because of that sickness streak and my limited free time due to work, I would stop working out for more than six months and gain back half of the 20 pounds I had lost from March to September of last year. I would stop having time to go play poker on Thursdays, to go out with friends on Friday nights, to visit my family on Sundays, or to do anything but work all the damn time. I knew things were about to become difficult, but I had no idea just how difficult, yet.

I was also about to experience a fundamental realignment of my social circle. At the end of September I recall driving with a close friend, listening to a sad song about goodbyes and regret that suddenly brought forth the tears. I didn't know why I was crying, yet. I knew things needed to change and had already started to, but I didn't realize that what really needed to happen was finality, an ending. That earthquake came in October. But on that late September day, part of me already knew, and was already recording that moment, as one place I may never go in my life again.

Looking back now, a year ago I was on the brink of everything. I had no idea at the time how fundamental the changes would be, but it got me here, and for that I am grateful. The last year has put me in such a better place, and this September I am just hoping that I can keep building on the positive change of a year ago. Through a combination of my crash Vegas diet and a week of being sick, I've lost enough weight that my low point from last year is once again in sight and I'm inspired to keep going. I have met some fascinating and truly amazing guys in the last year, and made some fantastic new friends while strengthening existing friendships with others. I was promoted at work and got a raise after I really rededicated myself to my job and I ended up with a house that love and put my own mark on forever.

Septembers are always full of change for me, but as I sit here today reflecting on all the positive change that started a year ago, I just can't wait to see what happens next.

Grading Myself

I have a group of friends who I have been posting with on various forms of social media since 2001. (First we were on messageboards, then we were moved to something that tried to be like myspace plus messageboards, then about 18 months ago we moved to Facebook.) Every year, we make our new year's resolutions and then in the following December we review our list to assess our progress. Sometimes one of the people in this group will remind us that we've been resolving every year since 20o7 to leave that job or lose those 25 pounds, which makes the annual resolution review particularly painful. Not that I speak from experience or anything.

So yesterday, someone suggested our annual resolution review and I immediately felt sick over the annual recriminations after realizing I have still made no progress on my list. But then when I went and found my blog post on the topic, I realized I kind of DID make some progress on several of them, and that was a pretty cool realization. Here's my list for the past year:

1. Resolve my job situation on my own terms.
If by "resolve," I meant "realize I am stuck here until the economy turns, and make the best of it," or perhaps just "don't get fired in the worst economic disaster of my generation," then yes. I resolved. But I am still in the same job I have had since January 2006. So, you do the math.

2. Become more frugal, in order to save money for a new mortgage.
I saved over $10K in the past year, and did get a new mortgage. I also blew all those savings on home renovations that currently carry a pricetag of almost $20K, and climbing. Oh joy. But yay, I finally got that mortgage, and the crushing debt load that comes with it! (Sometimes, adult milestones don't make you feel like you thought they would.)

3. Cook dinner more often at home, and eat healthier.
I barely cooked at home at all this year, but I did manage to follow Weight Watchers for 6 months and lose 20 pounds. (I've undone 6 pounds of that in the last 3 months though, and need desperately to get back on the program in 2 weeks when the holidays are behind us.

4. Cut caffeine from my daily diet.
Oh this is just too funny. I think I reduced my intake for like a month before I gave up. In fairness, I did say it would be the hardest one on the list to stick with. I think it was when I started dieting in earnest that I realized trying to quit caffeine while trying to quit every delicious food in the world is like the single most masochistic thing I could have attempted.

5. Begin exercising regularly, including attempting to start running on a regular basis by the end of the year.
In March I started working out on a regular basis and by May I was working out 5 nights a week on a treadmill. I even managed to do several long distances of 9 or 10 miles at a time, without dying. But then I stopped because I got sick in September, and then work became unbearably busy. I also never graduated to running. But, I am resolving to get back on the horse in the new year on this one. And by horse, I mean treadmill.

6. Remove as much stress from my life as possible.
Ha! What a fool I was.

7. FINALLY finish decorating this house--just need 2 rooms painted, and possibly a new desk in the guest room.
Or, y'know, I could decide instead to completely renovate the outside of the house and make zero progress indoors. The closest I got to progress on this front was having new light fixtures installed in my kitchen, and picking paint colors for my bedroom. BUT, I hope to finally get that painting actually done in 2010. Maybe.

8. Spend more time with family, since my grandparents are here now and both rapidly approaching 90.
This went well for the first half of the year when work was slow, and badly for the second half once I got super busy at work. Sunday dinners are hard to make it to when you work every Sunday. My grandpa is declining fairly steadily, though, so I really do need to make more time to be around him while I still have the chance. He turns 90 in January.

9. Focus on my writing, and really push myself to take the time for quality over filler.
Yeah, not so much. I had a couple decent blog posts this year, perhaps ones I will even assemble into a top 10 list if I find 10 I am at least halfway proud of. But for the most part, this year was slow on the writing front. I resolve to do better next year. (She said, as she wrote a blog post that could arguably be deemed "filler.")

10. Do something big and out of character. Details to come.
So, now that I didn't do it after all, I can reveal that my plan was to run a half marathon on Thanksgiving day. That obviously didn't happen, nor will I be running the March half marathon at Disney World that I was thinking of trying. However, I do want to try and complete a half marathon at some point, so I am going to try and carry this one over to the new year as well. But I did do something fairly out of character this year, and it was scary as hell: I went to Biloxi by myself and played in a poker tournament. I nearly got hives just thinking about doing it, but I'm glad I did. Even if I lost a lot of money and came away having yet again underperformed against the big boys.

Despite what this list might indicate, 2009 was a big year for me in several ways. As I look back, I'm pleased with where I've traveled to and hopeful that 2010 will be a year of even more change. I'll be thinking about my resolutions for 2010 in the next few weeks (several of them will be virtually identical, of course), but for now I think I give my progress in 2009 a B-. But of course, I resolve to do better next year, too.

The Mystery of the Not My Condoms

Friday night I was searching for something high and low throughout my house, and my search took me to my nightstand drawer. While I have no desire to tell you all about the contents of that drawer, just trust that should my parents ever get curious and open it, they will immediately shut it and try to forget what they saw. While rummaging through the various things that would make Baby Jesus cry, I came across a stray condom...a plain old garden variety lubricated Trojan.

This was a curious discovery, since I am allergic to latex and therefore have not purchased or had latex condoms in my vicinity in at least a decade. (I will spare you the details on this too, except to say that once you've experienced a latex allergy in a delicate and highly sensitive place, you become more than a little wary. The first thing I tell every doctor is to make sure their gloves are not latex.) I knew right away it wasn't my condom, since I have a few of the polyurethane ones in the drawer and even those may have long since passed their expiration dates. So what the hell was this thing doing in my drawer?

The choices, none of which are particularly fun for me to contemplate, appear to be that a friend left it there as a joke during one of the parties I've had in the past few years, one of my friends with a key to my house left it there while cat-sitting (hopefully as a joke and not because it was leftover from some sort of sexual act that occurred in my bed because I WILL KILL WHOEVER DID THAT), my cleaning lady left it there (see aforementioned parenthetical), or some other option that I can't wrap my brain around right now. And before anyone suggests that my still-getting-frisky-over-sixty parents left it there, just don't. My mom got her tubes tied almost 20 years ago.

Regardless of how it ended up there, I am now completely bewildered and ooged out. And considering buying a new mattress and sheets and possibly burning my bed frame.

Obsessive Hostess strikes again

I'm having a Fourth of July cookout, and the amount of work and cooking to be done is starting to bear down hard upon me. I have decided on the following menu:

Appetizers:
Vegetable tray with dill dip
mini lobster rolls
bacon wrapped dates stuffed with bleu cheese
chips with salsa, guacamole and queso

Mains:
Burgers (of many varieties)
Hot Dogs
Grilled Chicken Breasts

Sides:
My should-be-famous potato salad
Pasta Salad with zucchini, tomato and feta
Grilled vegetables and corn
fresh cut fruit

Desserts:
Lemon cupcakes
Strawberry shortcakes

Drinks:
Sangria
Beer
Water and sodas

So, um, yeah. It's a lot of food. I still need to shop, and then tomorrow I will spend the whole day cooking. The beauty of this menu is that it can ALL be prepared in advance, except for the things that need to be grilled the day of the cookout.

The far bigger issue is that hosting parties makes me suddenly hyper-aware of all the things I meant to fix up in my house but never got around to. I meant to finish paining the living room, and to paint my bedroom, and to paint over that water damage spot on the cieling, but I never did. Now I am trying to calculate...can I get all those done tomorrow? (No, and I shouldn't even try. But I still might.)

I also have let my deck languish this year, and haven't bothered to clean it or set it up properly at all. I have a basement full of cutesy things to decorate the deck with for a party, but the thought of actually putting all of that together and making it look nice is so exhausting. So, I cajoled my parents into coming and helping me with that part. Nothing like free labor!

Once the actual cookout comes, I will feel the wash of a sense of accomplishment, but until then it is nothing but worry. I worry that 36 people still have not RSVPed and so I have no idea how much to cook. I worry that my house is small and if somehow 40 people show up, where will I put them all? I worry it will be insanely hot and my air conditioner will crap out again. All of these things are, sadly, eminently possible.

I also am trying to figure out where would be the best spot to go to watch fireworks near my house. I am surrounded by several massive multi-story trees, so I doubt we could see much from my deck. However, I am less than a mile from Piedmont Park, which should have a good view of several fireworks shows. Anyone know any other good spots relatively close to Virginia-Highland where I can take my merry band of friends for a good ooh ahhh view of fireworks? Let me know in the comments.

Many wonder why I take on this sort of thing when it carries this much stress, and it's hard to explain but the truth is that I do love it. I love having an excuse to cook for other people, and to see them enjoy a great meal that I prepared. I love bringing friends from a variety of circles together and watching them have a good time. I love playing hostess, even though I try too hard to make everything perfect. It may not appear like it as I worry and work, but I live for this sort of thing. I promise.

Um, no.

You are not putting 28 miles of tunnels underneath my 'hood. Sorry.

Need I remind you that the last major tunnel-under-a-big-city project KILLED SOMEONE?

Why is it always the guy from some two stoplight town I've never heard of (in this case Pine Mountain, GA) who proposes to dig up the city of Atlanta to build these deathtrap tunnels?

Update: Rusty has also written about the rampant stupidity of this idea here.

Random thoughts in which I confirm your suspicion that I'm crazy

It's been a harrowing couple of days for me, which anyone who reads my Twitter feed will readily understand. Much like a parent with a sick child, I have been agonizing over my piglet cat's sudden inexplicable loss of appetite. It all appears to have started sometime on Sunday, but by yesterday he simply was not eating ANYTHING. He was lethargic and cranky when petted, puking, and did not look so hot. Since he was vaccinated at the vet on Friday I suspected a vaccine reaction, but was not certain because of the puking.

I worked from home yesterday (yes, for a sick cat, I know that is pathetic but I couldn't live with myself if something had happened to him) and thought about taking him to the vet, but his condition seemed to improve over the course of the afternoon thanks in part to me forcefeeding him eyedroppers full of water every hour. He still wouldn't eat last night, but by God the cat was not dehydrated. I hoped that overnight he would eat, but by this morning the fresh clump of catfood remained untouched. I did get him to eat 5 cat treats this morning, but until he resumes his normal instant inhalation of all food within a 10 mile radius I am going to worry. I decided that I would work today, and if he is not eating by the time I get home tonight then it is back to the vet for him. He will detest this, so it is to be avoided at all costs.

In addition to worrying about whether the stupid cat is eating, I had a surreal and terrifying experience last night. It was terrifying because I awoke to hear what sounded like the footsteps of someone walking around on my deck just outside my bedroom, but it was surreal because I am not at all convinced that it actually happened. I have been known to awake with something like night terrors, a nightmare that convinces me for the first minute or two of wakefulness that something is actually in my room trying to get me. In the past, I have imagined a person was in my bedroom leaning over my bed looking at me, and have bolted straight out of bed and turned on the light only to find it was all a dream. So this time, I sat up awake and listened to the sound for several seconds, but then it simply stopped and I couldn't be 100% certain that I hadn't dreamt it all. It was only this fear that my brain was playing tricks on me that kept me from calling the police. Instead, after making sure the back door to the deck was locked, I laid in bed terrified (and still worrying about that damned cat) for an hour before falling back to sleep.

I'm not really sure why I felt the need to share all this except to say that if I seem a little off my game and nutty today, this is why. I am worrying about a cat, and working on very few hours of quality sleep. (And my arms hurt from playing Wii sports.)

Decoration Day

Since I have nothing else to blog about, I'll put my current decorating dilemma before all 6 readers I still have left.

I need new bedding. My current duvet is about 5 years old and thanks to the cat is starting to look shaggy. My current bedding is centered around a deep purple, which is also the color of my rugs and a primary focus color in the artwork I have in my bedroom. So, basically, whatever new comforter/duvet/quilt I decide on is going to need to have a lot of purple in it. Problem? Purple appears to not be "in" right now for bedding designers. I have searched high and low, and these are the only two options I can find:

Nicole Miller "Indochine":



Urban Living "Seaglass Spice":



I like the first option more than the second, but it's twice as expensive. I don't know if I will feel right spending $400 on a new comforter set.

So, what say ye faithful readers? Which do you like more? Or are you aware of some OTHER purple comforter/duvet option that I just haven't stumbled upon yet? Also, if I go with the first comforter set, do I have to paint my bedroom walls some form of purple or is there an accent color I'm not thinking of?

Signs you have a shopping problem

My parents are at my place today, and my dad is building me a new closet. My lovely 1915 house only has one real closet, and it's about 6 ft by 6 ft at most. I have somehow managed to fit an insane amount of clothes, shoes, bags, laundry baskets and luggage all into this tiny column of closet, but it could be better utilized if we actually built in better shelves, racks, etc. Hence my dad's project. In the meantime, the contents of my closet are currently on my entire queen size bed and along one wall of my bedroom. Before you think that the contents of this blurry photo are all the clothes I own, you should know that I also have a large armoire in the guest room that houses suits and dresses, and have 2 or 3 big plastic bins of off-season clothes that reside in the basement. Yes, I might have a problem.

Red on the Head

The dogwoods in my front yard have suddenly changed to a violent shade of crimson, and I took this photo this morning to memorialize the beauty. I love fall.

Style Fix

Yesterday my darling parents came down to my house for the sole purpose of painting my guest bedroom the Tiffany blue color I had intended it to be for the last 6 months though I never got around to making it happen. When I left in the morning the room was beige (the same color the entire interior of the house had been when I moved in) and when I got home it was...perfect! I cannot possibly put into words how much I love the color. It has inspired me to get the other painting jobs done in the house so that it will feel complete and beautiful.

I already know that the rest of the living room should be painted the butterscotch gold color that I painted one wall back in February. And I think I want to paint the small hallway/vestibule that connects the bathroom and two bedrooms a brick red color. But I am still struggling mightily with my bedroom because my parents feel very strongly that eggplant purple is going to be a catastrophe. And deep down a little voice inside tells me that they are probably right.

I love the notion of having a warm, rich and brightly colored boudoir style bedroom. I have had a Moroccan/Venetian themed bedspread in my room for several years now, with a multitude of various accent pillows and a dark purple rug. And while I love the idea of staying in that color family and overall concept, I recognize that my duvet may need to be replaced in the not too distant future. What if I paint the walls purple and end up with a different color scheme in mind? Should I go ahead and find the new bedspread first? Or should I go with a safer color like gold for the walls and hope it will match whatever I decide upon?

I'm having a hard time deciding this, and yet thanks to places where I removed curtain rods I need to paint my bedroom more than any other room in the house. If I wasn't so confident in my own sense of style, I would hire a designer to answer this question for this one room. But I know deep down I can figure this out, I just need to visualize the concept in my head.

Random Smatterings

I cannot motivate to blog lately, hence the myriad of short posts or music videos or cartoons or generally useless drivel I've been spewing. Not likely to change anytime soon unless the urge hits or the news becomes interesting. It's hot, everyone's lazy, and that's extending to the blogosphere too. But here's some crap I could blog about if I really wanted to:

* I think it's really cool that Georgia coach (and former FSU offensive coordinator) Mark Richt flew down to Tallahassee to attend Mickey Andrews' son's funeral. The ties obviously still run deep there. I also think it's fantastic how many former coaches and players made it a priority to be there in person to express their condolences. Coach Andrews has obviously touched many lives and now it is the turn of the FSU family to show him that support runs back to him when he needs it.

* As a result of the funeral yesterday, FSU did not announce their starting QB for the Clemson game. That announcement is expected today.

* My car is officially a piece of shit and it won't even be 4 years old until tomorrow. My 2003 VW Passat, which has only 44,000 miles on it, is just killing me. The air conditioner doesn't work when stopped in traffic now, which as you might expect in 100+ degree temperatures is a bit of a problem. Yesterday after trying to get home from Decatur in rush hour traffic and having to keep the windows down for most of the ride, I stopped at Alon's to pick up dinner. When I got out of there and turned on the car I got a message that said "STOP, turn off car" with a little temperature thing. The engine temp. indicator was in the red zone. So, I turned off the car, turned off the A/C, waited for awhile, and when I turned it back on again the temp slowly dropped and I was able to drive home. But as a result of this madness I am more resolved than ever to get a new car ASAP because this shit has got to stop. I've already gotten pre-approval from three companies and I'm going to use that to hammer VW to give me a good rate on a new Eos. Now I just have to decide between the 2.0L and 3.2L. This is where having a guy who knows something about cars would be exceedingly helpful.

* As a result of my sweaty ride home in temperatures that my car's external thermometer claimed him 108 degrees, I felt the need to take a cold shower. Much to my extreme terror, my parents arrived home from the airport after their trip to Italy at this very moment and my mother walked into the bathroom and loudly announced her presence. I was absolutely thrilled to see them both to hear all about their trip and to catch them up on the developments and drama of the past 10 days. They brought me some beautiful hand blow venetian glass shotglasses, and something mysterious which will apparently be a Christmas present. I'm pretty sure it's going to be a leather jacket to match the handmade ones that they bought, but I could be wrong. I'm glad they had a great time since they take far too few legitimate vacations.

* From Blog For Democracy, we have all learned that ACLU of Georgia has mysteriously lost all of its lawyers recently and when they need them the most, too. Not only do we have the implementation of the VoterID bill to fight, but the City of Atlanta wants to ban baggy pants. They better hire some legal staff, stat. If I married rich tomorrow or won the lottery, I'd volunteer. But alas, public interest law is not in the cards for me anytime soon.

* Yeah, no shit the drought is worsening. While in Helen, GA last weekend we were amused to see the tubers on the Chattahoochee getting continually stuck because the water level is so low they can barely pass through the rocks. Meanwhile my yard is in shambles even though I illegally watered it a couple nights this weekend. (Shhh, don't tell. My sprinkler timer was broken so I was making up for lost time.) I can't believe we have gone this long with 100+ degree temperatures and absolutely no rain. We need a deluge, hopefully this weekend. Remember when Drudge was constantly pointing to freak snowstorms to try and refute the possibility that global warming exists? How come he's strangely silent about much of the country being stuck in a ridiculously long heat wave this month?

* Speaking of Drudge, he's apparently preoccupied with topless photos of world leaders. Remember all that drama over Hillary Clinton showing a little cleav? Meanwhile, both Russia and France have seen their (male) Presidents photographed shirtless in the last couple of weeks and it's causing a stir there as well. I think it's just a little strange to see any of your world leaders in various states of undress, and I don't think it's a sexist issue. Because man, that photo of Putin is just weird.

Random Observations

-Today marks day 9 since I have spoken to my parents by phone or in person. This may be the longest I have ever gone without talking to them at least by phone. I feel rudderless and like I have so so much to tell them. I know they're having a great time in Italy but this experience has shown me just how much I rely on them to keep me sane and grounded.

-Upside of having an exterminator come visit is that the roaches and such are dying. Downside is that they are dying all over the inside of the house, meaning a) I had a lot more bugs than I thought I did and b) they are now popping up everywhere. It's ooging me out, man.

-Perfect red lipstick: Nars' "Fire Down Below." This with Black Honey gloss from Clinique will turn me into a redlipped vixen from now on. You have been warned. Getting the perfect red that's not too blue, not too pink and not too orange is incredibly hard for a redhead. But this color is absolutely freakin' PERFECT.

-While I love the clean lines of french manicures, why do they last so little time? I got this one yesterday and I've already chipped half the white off of a nail. I will need a redo by Saturday at the latest.

-I don't consider myself someone with impeccable etiquette but so often I am astounded by the bad manners of others. Were people raised in a barn? I guess more sank in from my momma than I thought.

-All of you friends who urged me to put aside my prejudices and date someone who I wasn't immediately smitten with (and who's shorter than me), I listened. It didn't work. If that makes me shallow, so be it.

Routine Maintenance

That is the goal today. I cleaned the house yesterday, and today is dedicated to personal and yard maintenance. I'm gonna get my nails done, give myself a facial, and work out. And I'll also clean up the deck, finish weeding the yard (why do weeds thrive when everything else is dry and dying?), and purchase the paint I've been meaning to get for the remaining rooms of my house to be painted. I am tired of feeling like everything in my life needs to be done or is only half-finished. Progress is paramount today.

This means no working, which probably increases the likelihood of drama and late nights this coming week but I don't care.

Time to get rid of the ugly

Today I am pulling weeds, getting a first visit from pest control to deal with the bugs, and getting the walls painted to cover the blah beige and the little dings and dents. I'll also take some things to Goodwill that I cleaned out of my closet. Life has become too cluttered and ugly lately, time to pare down to what I really need and want.

In the paint

I've hired someone to paint 3 rooms of my house and now I'm having a crisis of conscience about color. I have a lovely Tiffany blue for my guest room that I'm firm on, but I could still do one wall in chocolate brown if I'm feeling brave. My living room can either be a lighter gold or the butterscotch over my fireplace, if I don't feel like that will overpower the room. I also considered doing the dark olive green on the far wall near the entryway, but I think that is too strong even for me. And finally, my bedroom. I can't decide if I want one wall or all 4 to be eggplant purple. (Aka "aubergine" for you francophones.)

Anyone who's reading this and who has been to my house--what do you think? Will I hate the purple? Will it close off the room?

I have to decide by the end of the weekend so that I can go buy the rest of the paint and let these folks get started. I'm very eager to have the house mostly decorated and painting is really the last step. (I need dining room chairs too, but those are going to have to wait for a little while.)

Sometimes a fish needs a bicycle

I need a husband.

Not for the obvious reasons like love, devotion, joint income and hot sex (at least in the beginning.) Oh, those would be potentially lovely too, but the real reason I need a husband is to stop getting hosed.

See, for a few months now I've noticed a squeal in my car when I brake. I had the rear brakes replaced in January, but the front brakes were last replaced about 18 months ago when I moved to Georgia, so I figured those front brakes were squealing to tell me it was time for some new ones. I procrastinated and procrastinated, but faced with a need to drive 2 hours to the mountains for a weekend in a cabin with the girls, and an ever-worsening squeal, I decided today to take my car in for brake repairs.

Now, I think my first mistake was taking it to that place that advertises on the radio all the time. You know the one, they say it will be fast and cost $100. They lie. I got there and told them about the squealing and they took my wheels off and checked all 4 wheels and then said my front brakes were down to 20-25% on one side and 15-20% on the other. Then there was a bunch of talk about calipers and rotors and semi-metallic vs. ceramic pads, and before I know it they're saying they want me to decide what they're going to do for me. This is where a husband would have been an excellent thing to have present, or even better yet just taking care of this whole mess for me while I borrowed his car for the day. But because I lack a husband and do not understand what the bloody fuck they were talking about, I uttered these words: "I don't really care about the cost, that's fine, but I need it done as soon as possible so I can get back to work." That first part? The part about not caring what it costs? Well, when the ultimate bill is $400 instead of the $89.95 they promised on the radio, it turns out that I DO care. Of course I ended up waiting 3 hours and until the work was already done to find out it would be $400, because they ended up providing neither the speed nor the economy they promised. I will not be back to said brakes place.

But the best part? The best part is that, after I wasted half a day and $400 on this bullshit, figuring well at least my car will be safer to drive now, I pulled out into traffic and as soon as I applied the brakes I heard the same squeal. When I rolled down the window it turns out it's coming from the BACK brakes, not the front. So I sat through all this crap and paid $400 for something that wasn't even that much of an emergency, and that really pisses me off.

If I'd had a husband, I could have sent him back in to yell at them and tell them to stop the squealing in the back tires, which they had also checked and declared to "look good." But instead I just kept going headed to work, because I had wasted enough time and money for one day.

And it's not just in dealing with mechanical issues that I could really use a spouse. I am inordinately bothered by bugs, and yesterday after noticing a strange odor in my kitchen I opened a cabinet to find the new bag of potatoes I'd just bought was covered in flies. When I picked up the bag which obviously contained a bad potato or two (I don't really cook enough potatoes to have noticed that there was a rotten one, I guess), there were maggots underneath on the shelf. MAGGOTS! I had to run out of the room, retch, and then collect myself before I could go back and clean it up and hastily throw it all away. I would have just wrapped the entire shelf and all its contents in a trash bag if I could have. And maggots can't even fly or run real good! You should see me with something legitimately icky and mobile like a roach or a spider. Then I just fall to pieces and start losing my mind and screaming and throwing things in its general direction out of a hope that I'll either kill the thing or at least convince it to head in a different direction.

I can so barely keep my little 2 bedroom house and postage stamp lawn together that it's frightening, and generally involves assistance from my parents that's a little embarassing at 32 years old. For example, after I took my parents to the Red Sox game on Wed. night and they stayed overnight in the guest room, they actually woke up the next morning and mowed my overgrown lawn before leaving for their house and their workday on the house they are renovating. They did all this before I even woke up for the day, making me feel about as guilty as humanly possible. But I'm clearly not getting it all done myself, and it shows.

I suddenly understand why having a housewife is incredibly attractive for busy working professional men. I would like my corresponding house husband, please. I'll pay the mortgage and the bills and he can sit on the couch and watch Jerry Springer or go have lunch with his buddies, as long as he also gets the yard work done, kills all bugs, deals with the car repairs, and does the other errands every day. I won't even expect a warm meal on the table when I get home at night (Lord knows when that would be anyhow), but ability to shop for ingredients and/or procure takeout is a must. Also being easy on the eyes wouldn't hurt. Apply now!

Don't shatter my bubble of obliviousness please

A guy got shot at the intersection of Monroe Dr. and Amsterdam Ave. this morning about 5 am. That intersection is less than a half mile from my house.

I like to pretend that I live in a safe neighborhood, one where I shouldn't be nervous about leaving a key hidden outside or even leaving the back door unlocked at times. One where I park my car in the driveway and don't have a garage. One where I haven't had the house's alarm system active since I moved in a year ago. One where I could walk home from Virginia-Highland bars at 2am (OK maybe stumble is a more appropriate word) and not be the slightest bit afraid for my safety.

Needless to say, after reading this story I'm just a wee bit concerned. I hope the shooting victim pulls through and that his shooter is caught. And I'm considering getting a little more hardcore about my own home security.

Speaking of my Dad...

Awhile ago I mentioned to my Dad that I needed him to fix my bed. See, I have this queen size sleigh bed that has slats across the bottom along with a board down the middle that has little wooden legs that fold down to give support under the middle of the bed. Sometimes those legs get folded back up inadvertently, and when they do my bed creaks loudly and sounds like it might break whenever I do certain things in that bed that involved a lot of movement (ahem ahem). As he slowly realized what I was talking about obliquely, he basically shushed me and told me to explain the problem to my mother and that he would take care of it. My Mom is the kind of mom who recently asked me at dinner out of the blue when was the last time I got some, so of course she thought it was funny. But then everyone forgot about it, and I hadn't had any opportunities to nearly break the bed in the meantime, so I wasn't particularly concerned about getting the legs under the bed fixed.

Well, yesterday my Dad came down to my house with an electrician to check out the wiring of the entire house because of my recent electrical issues. He had the guy install new outlets where I needed them, replace or fix broken wiring and breakers, and install photo-sensitive light switches on my outside lights. He also adjusted the settings on my sprinklers now that there are water restrictions, and moved my cable and did other small projects in my house.

As I discovered when I went to get into bed last night, my Dad also at some point fixed the folding legs underneath my now uncreaky bed. It made me chuckle to imagine him remembering that conversation, shuddering in horror, and then getting the electrician to lift up my bed while he fiddled with the legs underneath. He probably immediately had to go get a beer out of my fridge to wash away any thoughts of why such repairs had ever been necessary.

Hopefully he didn't look in the bedside table drawer, or he'd really be bothered.

The Last Straw

I'm officially over the charm and joy of owning a 90 year old cute little house. At first it was just minor inconveniences and quirks--the crystal doorknobs that sometimes only work on one side of the door, the floors that creak, the cracked and uneven driveway, the scary concrete and clay basement, the oven that tends to burn things because the convection turns on whether I want it to or not...you get the point. It annoyed me, but I could deal with it.

Then came the plumbing issues, which were both frustrating and expensive. Having to wait 5 days for them to complete replacement of my sewer line due to roots in the pipes was beyond inconvenient, and in the process they had to dig up my crumbling driveway and spotty front yard. So, of course, the only answer was to get a new driveway and finally complete a relandscaping and retaining wall project...which cost several thousand more dollars. It now looks amazing, it really does, but already in the 2 months since the plumbing has been replaced I've had another leak episode due to the 45 degree bend in the new pipe that had to be put in to accomodate attaching it to the old sewer main at street level. That means I have to be careful about everything that goes through my sewer line from here on out to avoid clogs--careful about the food that goes through the disposal, never flushing paper towels or tampons, etc. But still, I was willing to live with this expense and inconvenience if it got me new reliable pipes and a pretty yard.

Then last night I managed to blow the power to the whole front half of the house. How'd I do that? By wiggling the hinky lightbulb in my desk lamp that has always been a little tempermental. I wiggled it, it popped, the power went out. I went to the breaker box and the switch won't flip back to on. It sparks a little when I try, which I know just enough to know is a bad sign. And my dad is terrified of all things electrical and insisted I wait for an electrician to look at it. (My attempts to get in touch with the one person I know who understands basic electrical issues having been unsuccessful. Harumph.)

So now, today, I get to go sit at home and wait for an electrician in order to pay him $150 for the privilege of checking my breaker to figure out if it needs to be replaced. Or something, I don't really understand jack squat about this whole electrical thing myself. All I know is that the 2 rooms that lost power house both of my TVs and my computer, and there was no way in hell I was going without either of those things for a whole night, particularly when the Heroes season finale was on. In under 20 minutes and with assistance of some extra cable and a splitter I rigged up something from the guest room to put the smaller TV and a cable box into my bedroom, just as the show was starting. Phew!

When I moved in the inspector told us that there were some electrical issues that we should get taken care of, and we had a sweaty disgusting electrician out to my house who gave me an estimate but managed to completely repulse me in the process, thus causing me to delay dealing with the electrical. So much for that plan. Now I have to hope that this isn't a majorly serious sort of problem that will require massive rewiring or somesuch, but given how well the plumbing issues went, let's just say I'm not optimistic. So far in 2007 this house has cost over $15K in repairs and upgrades resulting from repairs, only a small amount of which will be insured through homeowner's.

...And I want it NOW

I can be a tad impatient when I want something, and this is really hurting me today as I look out the window at a concrete mixer, a pile of chunks of my old driveway, and a dirt yard. After the roots-in-pipes fiasco and resulting ruination of my yard, we've hired a landscape architect to re-grade the yard, put it a fieldstone retaining wall where formerly there were ugly ivy vines, and to place sod, a pathway, and some shrubbery. And it's taking FOREVER, even though I understand that this is not an overnight process. 80% of my driveway is poured, but the part closest to the street isn't in yet and my dad says I can't park on it anyhow for a week. A week! And the concrete blocks for the retaining wall are in but I have no stone on them yet or front steps to walk up. And meanwhile, the yard is filled with concrete mix bags, the aforementioned mixer, and a bunch of dirt and trash. I understand the concept of it has to get worse before it can get better, but at 1 month post-yard dig up, I'm about at my limit.

I also have one lone peony which surprisingly sprouted up from nowhere a couple months ago and that is about to bloom, if all the dirt and stress don't kill it first. And I really, really need one beautiful thing in my yard of otherwise complete chaos.

There are some who have been attempting to foist zen principles upon me for years, who will say this is when it's important that I learn the power of patience. It's really not my strong suit, and this experience is really testing the limitations of any zen I might have been able to acquire. Because lord, that yard is UGLY.

Hopefully once the wall is up, the driveway is done, the yard is graded and sodded, and things have been planted, I can have a lovely "after" photo to post. We'll see. I keep trying to picture that in my mind as a way to get through my distress at this destruction outside my door.