You don't know boring, tedious, and insanely irritating until you've spent two hours after work each night stripping wallpaper. Trust me, you think you know boring, tedious, and insanely irritating, but you don't. Really. You don't.
The upshot of this task, which I have done with exactly zero help from the man of the house, is that I have coined a new curse word: "Flaxmans!" There are two ways to say it:
1--Fast and almost in a whisper the way Jerry Seinfeld said "Newman".
2--Drawing the word out in a yell like "Flaaaaaaxmaaaaan's" while shaking your fist at the sky and looking into the distance a la George from Dennis the Menace.
The way you say it is entirely a personal choice. Dave prefers Option 1. I, however, prefer Option 2.
The Flaxman's were the previous owners of our house. I'm sure they're perfectly nice people. We found a photo of them in the closet, which is now proudly displayed on our refrigerator as if they're our friends. They look like nice people. They used all CFL light bulbs. See, that's a nice person thing to do, right? Conscious of the environment. Doing their part to conserve energy.
Unfortunately, that doesn't change the fact that seemingly nice people can also have horrendous taste.
For example, while I am a firm believer that the sale of wallpaper should be banned by Constitutional law, apparently the Flaxman's thought that the monkeys swinging on green vines was just the peerfect thing for their breakfast room. I would disagree.
It would also seem that the Flaxman's were firm believers in hanging absolutely everything they ever owned from a nail or screw in the wall. Again, I would disagree.
The Flaxman's also apparently believed that the best way to showcase a room was to paint the ceiling the same color as the wall. Not surprisingly, again I disagree.
All of these disagreements add up to me stripping wallpaper every evening. If I'm not doing that, I'm spackling the 10,000 holes in the wall. Soon enough I'll be painting all the ceilings this wonderful color available at Home Depot. It's called Ceiling White. Hmmm, wonder what a person would paint with that color?
The end sum is me yelling "Flaaaaaaaxmaaaaan's!" while shaking my fist in the air about a dozen times a night.
Anyway, your new task is to find a way to work "Flaxman's!" into your daily lexicon. Choose Option 1 or Option 2, whichever fits you best. And, when you're done with that you need to work "lexicon" into your lexicon. It's a great word that makes you sound really smart.
L.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
The Great Love Story of Our Time
Please join me in welcoming George C. Scott and Isaac to the blog.
Now, you don't have to be a cat person to know that's pretty freaking cute.
L.
The Long Road
A friend of mine passed along a blog of a college acquaintance. The blog writer's father died a year ago, and it brought back so many feelings. My heart bled for her. I've been there. I know that feeling, and I wish I could take the pain off her heart.
While reading it, I realized how far I've come since my own father's death. This May marks the 11th anniversary of his death. My life and mindset 10 years ago is so dramatically different from my life and mindset now. At the time I was in college, sad, and drinking away my grief. Ten years later, I've put my college years behind me. I've lived five years in DC. I've had four fun, if exhausting, jobs. I've moved back to this great Natural State with a boyfriend who, for reasons passing understanding, is still with me after six years.
If someone had told me in 1998 that I'd be where I am today, I would have laughed out loud. But I am. Now, when I think of Dad, I fondly recall our time together. I smile at the thought of how proud he must be of me today. And, I constantly realize that I've held onto and grown in the best attributes he gave me while tossing aside those that were less than perfect.
It's been a long road. There are good days and there are bad, but it's so reassuring to know that the good days far out number the bad, and the bad days aren't as bad as they once were.
I hope that college acquaintance finds this light at the end of her long dark road. And I'll pray that one day she will smile as broadly at the thought of her father's pride as I do.
L.
While reading it, I realized how far I've come since my own father's death. This May marks the 11th anniversary of his death. My life and mindset 10 years ago is so dramatically different from my life and mindset now. At the time I was in college, sad, and drinking away my grief. Ten years later, I've put my college years behind me. I've lived five years in DC. I've had four fun, if exhausting, jobs. I've moved back to this great Natural State with a boyfriend who, for reasons passing understanding, is still with me after six years.
If someone had told me in 1998 that I'd be where I am today, I would have laughed out loud. But I am. Now, when I think of Dad, I fondly recall our time together. I smile at the thought of how proud he must be of me today. And, I constantly realize that I've held onto and grown in the best attributes he gave me while tossing aside those that were less than perfect.
It's been a long road. There are good days and there are bad, but it's so reassuring to know that the good days far out number the bad, and the bad days aren't as bad as they once were.
I hope that college acquaintance finds this light at the end of her long dark road. And I'll pray that one day she will smile as broadly at the thought of her father's pride as I do.
L.
Sweet Validation
For the past two years, I've told Dave that everytime I walked in our old house I could smell mold. He laughed and laughed and laughed and on more than one occasion told me that it was all in my head. Well, Dave, it wasn't in my head. See that picture below? That's mold. And it was crawling up the wall behind your bedside table.
Hello, Validation, my old friend. How I've missed you.
L.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Treading Water
I have so much to tell, but no time to tell it. Last week I was out two days for a work retreat--it's always so much fun to socialize with the same people you see eight hours every day. Last weekend we moved all the the things we'd accumulated over two and a half years into a new house that needs wallpaper removed, painting and new furniture. Not to mention the unpacking. This week I'm hosting a grant writing workshop for the main program I implement at work.
So, needless to say, I've been a little to swamped for blog writing (and our home Internet transfer has not yet occurred, so we're without access at home).
But, I will say this. Last night I cooked Sloppy Joe's (our favorite) at our new house. After eating, I settled into the first bath I've enjoyed in years--the first without noise, without interruption, without mold, and without worrying about what Dave would do if he needed in the bathroom.
Nothing like a good meal and a relaxing bath to make a place feel like home.
L.
PS--I'm also happy to report that the cats are fighting less. Let's hope that sticks around. I'm attributing it to more space. We'll see...
So, needless to say, I've been a little to swamped for blog writing (and our home Internet transfer has not yet occurred, so we're without access at home).
But, I will say this. Last night I cooked Sloppy Joe's (our favorite) at our new house. After eating, I settled into the first bath I've enjoyed in years--the first without noise, without interruption, without mold, and without worrying about what Dave would do if he needed in the bathroom.
Nothing like a good meal and a relaxing bath to make a place feel like home.
L.
PS--I'm also happy to report that the cats are fighting less. Let's hope that sticks around. I'm attributing it to more space. We'll see...
Friday, January 18, 2008
To Dream The Impossible Dream
It's official. I'll be in debt until I'm at least 60 years old.
But the upside is that this is our new fireplace (not our furniture), and it's 30 degrees outside today. Can't you just hear the fire crackling in the background? It reminds me of being a kid.
On the rare snow days in Southwest Arkansas, my mother would pull out the makings for her special "Only On Snow Days Homemade Donuts". My father would haul in the firewood and spend the day laboriously stoking it like every proud man would. And everyone in town came over for drinks and donuts. In fact, at the slightest sight of snow our phone would start ringing and our family would start preparing for the day long Snow Party. Donuts were made, milk punch was served and the parents got drunk while the kids got frostbite.
We'd run in and out of the back door tracking in snow and water and no adult ever complained. We'd throw wet snow clothes in the dryer just long enough to heat them up and head out again. When the sun had set, and the guests were gone, my brother and I would lie on the itchy wool rug directly in front of the fireplace while our parents read books, watched television, and all around enjoyed the family.
I finally understand why it's called the American Dream. Delightful.
L.
Monday, January 14, 2008
The Final Countdown
Dave and I are quite close to saying goodbye to the first home we shared.
There are some great memories in these walls curled right up next to the mildew and the mold. I'll fondly hold onto the memories, and I'll gladly say goodbye to the mold.
L.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Quote of the Day
"People in our generation who've come of age during the Bush administration and want the country to move in a new direction think he can get us there. When Obama talks about politics, it doesn't sound like politics is a fight between people who did and did not burn their draft cards in the '60s," - Alec Schierenbeck, president of the Iowa College Democrats.
"As the exit polls have shown, the Democratic primary is turning into a battle between the people that pay for Social Security and those that collect it," First Friday Collective
"As the exit polls have shown, the Democratic primary is turning into a battle between the people that pay for Social Security and those that collect it," First Friday Collective
My Foundation Shakes
The house inspection showed a problem with the foundation. So I've just left a meeting with the foundation experts, and, yep, there's a problem. The whole foundation needs to be reworked, remolded, rebuilt, whatever you want to call it.
Jeez.
Luckily, we haven't yet closed on this house, so maybe the current owners will be willing to pay for the repairs.
Until then keep your fingers crossed that this turns out in our favor. Or Lord help me, I might just have a stroke.
L.
Jeez.
Luckily, we haven't yet closed on this house, so maybe the current owners will be willing to pay for the repairs.
Until then keep your fingers crossed that this turns out in our favor. Or Lord help me, I might just have a stroke.
L.
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Say What?!
I didn't expect that Hillary would pull off a 3 digit win in New Hampshire yesterday. Nope, didn't expect it.
On the bright side, 3 digits ain't much. And, for the first time in my life, the presidential primaries might provide an actual debate.
Hang in there, Obama. A check is in the mail, and I might just volunteer, too.
L.
On the bright side, 3 digits ain't much. And, for the first time in my life, the presidential primaries might provide an actual debate.
Hang in there, Obama. A check is in the mail, and I might just volunteer, too.
L.
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Friday, January 4, 2008
The Times They Are A Changin'
He did it.
Last night, for the first time in American history, an African-American won Iowa and is a serious threat to the Democratic party establishment. No matter who you want to lead this country in 2009, you have to admit it was a historic evening.
One of the many reasons I love American politics is that one generation, yep, just one generation, can change what some people believe is an inevitable outcome. Last night, young voters showed up in droves and gave Hillary a reason to pay attention to them. Good. It's about time.
On to New Hampshire.
L.
Last night, for the first time in American history, an African-American won Iowa and is a serious threat to the Democratic party establishment. No matter who you want to lead this country in 2009, you have to admit it was a historic evening.
One of the many reasons I love American politics is that one generation, yep, just one generation, can change what some people believe is an inevitable outcome. Last night, young voters showed up in droves and gave Hillary a reason to pay attention to them. Good. It's about time.
On to New Hampshire.
L.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
One, It Is The Loneliest Number
Is it just me or is this the most depressing picture of the presidential campaign?
L.
L.
AP/EVAN VUCCI GOP presidential candidate Fred Thompson rests in the back room Wednesday at the Mason City Elks Club after a stop in the Iowa city.
Here I Go Again On My Own
Cynical about the state of American politics and policies, I’d hoped to keep my head down and avoid the ever loudening presidential election debates. Not to mention that six months ago, I left a six year long career in politics and yelled "good riddance!" at the top of my lungs.
Walking into a world where every conversation doesn’t start or end with, “The jackass voted for the Bush tax cuts” or “I hear the Whip doesn’t have the votes” I swore I’d never get covered up again by politics. But, here I am on Iowa Caucus Day and the inevitable had descended upon me—I must choose a presidential candidate.
As you know, I live in a bipartisan household. In November 2006, we had two yard signs. One for the rather conservative Republican gubernatorial candidate standing directly next to one for the rather liberal Democratic congressional candidate.
And, as you know, when I’m not planning the formation of the Pulaski County Libertarian Party, I’m a middle-of-the-road Democrat. I think the government could and should curtail spending and congressional earmarks, I’m in a constant battle with myself over the necessity of farm subsidies, and I think that our gay and lesbian friends should be allowed to choose marriage as a real option for themselves.
Months ago, I vowed I wouldn’t vote for Hillary no matter how centric she might turn out to be (I can’t abide two families running the White House for 28 years). John Edwards just doesn’t do much for me. Bill Richardson could be interesting, but, really folks, he doesn't have a snowball's chance in hell. And, I couldn't go by my 2006 school board election strategy: vote for whomever has the most yard signs.
Narrowed down to Obama, I started listening. I liked his intelligence and his youth. Then I saw this speech: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jPtg-gvgWhE
Damn straight! A change I can believe in.
So here I am, right back in the middle of politics. A place I’d sworn off just a year ago. Oh, Barack, you’ve pulled me back in, and I thank you. You've given me the charisma. Now give me the policy, and we'll call it a day.
L.
Walking into a world where every conversation doesn’t start or end with, “The jackass voted for the Bush tax cuts” or “I hear the Whip doesn’t have the votes” I swore I’d never get covered up again by politics. But, here I am on Iowa Caucus Day and the inevitable had descended upon me—I must choose a presidential candidate.
As you know, I live in a bipartisan household. In November 2006, we had two yard signs. One for the rather conservative Republican gubernatorial candidate standing directly next to one for the rather liberal Democratic congressional candidate.
And, as you know, when I’m not planning the formation of the Pulaski County Libertarian Party, I’m a middle-of-the-road Democrat. I think the government could and should curtail spending and congressional earmarks, I’m in a constant battle with myself over the necessity of farm subsidies, and I think that our gay and lesbian friends should be allowed to choose marriage as a real option for themselves.
Months ago, I vowed I wouldn’t vote for Hillary no matter how centric she might turn out to be (I can’t abide two families running the White House for 28 years). John Edwards just doesn’t do much for me. Bill Richardson could be interesting, but, really folks, he doesn't have a snowball's chance in hell. And, I couldn't go by my 2006 school board election strategy: vote for whomever has the most yard signs.
Narrowed down to Obama, I started listening. I liked his intelligence and his youth. Then I saw this speech: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jPtg-gvgWhE
Damn straight! A change I can believe in.
So here I am, right back in the middle of politics. A place I’d sworn off just a year ago. Oh, Barack, you’ve pulled me back in, and I thank you. You've given me the charisma. Now give me the policy, and we'll call it a day.
L.
Movin' On Up
The loan is squared away. An insurance policy is in the works. Paint samples are on the kitchen table. The hall closet has been cleaned out. And, the diarrhea has finally stopped. I guess that means I'm ready to be a homeowner.
Next obsession? Furniture.
L.
Next obsession? Furniture.
L.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)