Ch-ch-ch-chintzy!

Summary haiku:
Chia Pet is full
of seeds, but won't grow trademark
lush clover coat.



As a gag gift, Kyle got me a Chia Pet for Christmas. His job got a big shipment of them in a press release, so he thought it would be funny to wrap one up and stick it under the tree.

Shaped like a kitten, this prize came with a bonus alarm clock, also a kitten.

Once we got to the new house, I was like, what the hell. Might as well grow her for novelty's sake. So, I followed the directions to a T. I kept her filled with water. The package said she'd start to show plant buds in 3-5 days. It has now been 8 days, and this is my Chia Pet:



Covered in seeds. Just like it was on days 1 through 7. So, not only are Chia Pets ugly, they don't grow for shit.

Like the plant version of Sea Monkeys. Sigh.

Fattie update Vol. 2

Weighed myself just now: I'm down a total of 8 pounds, possibly more because I'm wearing a whole lotta clothes today. (It's cold as hell.) Hooray!

I've been crazy busy at work and obsessed with doing house stuff when I'm at home, most of which takes a lot longer than I expect it to. What can I say? I'm a novice.

Anyhoo, pics (and things that are more interesting than updates on my personal life) coming soon.

My uncle is the man

One of these days, I'll think about something other than the new house. And I'm kind of looking forward to that, because it will mean that I'm actually living in it instead of hauling shit over there and prettying it up.

But right now, my uncle Stinky is in town.

(For the record, his real name is Robert and he does not smell. At all. But when I was little, we'd tease each other back and forth. He'd say, "you're a brat!" and I'd reply, "you stink!" And one day I started calling him Stinky and it just sort of stuck.)

ANYWAY, when we had our home inspection, we found out our house was wired with copper wiring instead of aluminum. Apparently, this was fairly common for about five years during the late 1970s, when our house was built.

However, it can be potentially problematic, because when the weather changes temperatures, it causes cause the copper to expand and contract. Over time, this will sometimes cause the wiring to loosen from its connection and be a fire hazard.

So when I called my uncle -- an electrician -- to ask him if we should still buy this house, he said yes, and that he could, and would, easily fix this. So he flew out here from Washington state to do that and to help us move.

My uncle has always been like my dad to me. My own father stopped taking an interest in my life about 25 years ago. Stinky is the one who taught me to drive; helped me apply for student loans; choose a college; move numerous times (even to Illinois and back); figure out my finances; offer emotional support and, well, pretty much everything a father would do if he were around. And more.

I am so grateful for him right now. We've been through a whole lot together, and he rocks.

Off to the new house! Our new dining room set and bed are being delivered at 10:30. Yay!

Fattie update

Summary haiku:
One week in, counting
points and pining for pretzels.
But I lost four pounds.

Another dead soldier

... And by that, I mean, another empty paint can (or three): ready to be disposed of.

Today was day three of painting rooms in the new house, and like Ms. P (who also painted her house upon moving in), I think that after this is over, I will never want to see a paintbrush, roller or edger for the rest of my life.

Epiphanies from today:

1. Painting baseboards and trim isn't as fun as using a roller, but I'm really good at it. I found my hidden skills! Turns out, I have quite a steady hand, so baseboards (and edging along the ceiling) have become my jobs. And Kyle is better and faster at rolling, which works out pretty well.

2. Sitting on the floor to paint baseboards will make your lower back hurt. Tomorrow, I will try sitting on one of the dog beds to do this. Tonight, I am with heating pad.

3. Every time I start bitching about how sick I am of painting, looking at the finished rooms remind me it's so worthwhile. OMG, they look so pretty. It looks like a whole new house -- and it feels great that we did it ourselves!

4. Every time I wish someone else could finish the painting, I remember how much the professional painter's estimate was for two of our three floors, totaling 1900 square feet: $3800. Enough said.

One more day of painting tomorrow (ergh), then back to work for a few days.

I'm a homeowner!

And let me tell you, it's pretty exciting. It's our first house and we're totally gung-ho about making it our own. Plus, we have a whole lot of stuff to do and we're trying to cram much of it in before we move in.

So, for the past 36 hours or so, the hubbster and I have been spackling, removing tile and wallpaper, taping off baseboards and door jambs, and cleaning and painting walls. We also dog-proofed the yard today. We have been to Lowe's and The Home Depot no less than 6 times in the past two days. We've been to Porter Paints twice. We're new at this, so we keep discovering new shit we need.

It's overwhelming. And expensive. But it's also pretty cool.

Here's what I've learned so far.

1. Painting seems new and fun for about 45 minutes, or until you get to the ceiling. Then it's just a giant chore that, in our case, needs to be done in four bedrooms, two bathrooms, a dining room, the kitchen and two hallways.

1a. Painting ceilings is really awful. Do not get directly under the area you're painting or you might end up with paint in your eye. Or hair. Or both. Wear a baseball cap anyway, just in case.

1b. Paint fumes will make you high, even with the windows open. Thank God. Otherwise, I may not have had the wherewithal to go all day long.

2. Concrete blocks don't seem that heavy at first. But after you lift the third one off the floor and into the shopping cart at Home Depot, you'll wish you would have taken your chivalrous husband up his insistance that he go to get 'em. But instead, you were like, "I am woman! They aren't that heavy, I want to go!" What a fucking idiot.



3. If it's been applied properly, wallpaper is really easy to remove. Yes, it's also a little tedious, but the folks on HGTV shows often overreact about it.

4. Home improvements should never be done without an MP3 player and speakers. There's nothing like a little Mobb Deep, Kanye West and Mos Def for inspiration. If you like that kind of music, of course.

5. If the previous homeowners left behind good vibes -- which I feel ours did, especially after meeting them at closing -- it makes a huge difference. I don't really know how to explain this, but I totally believe in good karma and it's in this house, no doubt.

Of course, I will be posting before and after pics at some point soon. Until then, I'm gonna finish this drink (oh yeah, we stopped at the liquor store on the way home!) and get some rest.


Accomplishments since Friday afternoon: Huge master bedroom is all done (and gorgeous!), except for painting baseboards. Upstairs hallway, primer and one coat of paint applied. Upstairs bathroom: Wallpaper removed, messed up tile removed from bottom of walls and subsequently spackled; windows and doors are taped and prepared for painting. Living room: Walls washed, vents cleaned, one wall painted, the rest of the room taped off for painting.

One more drink (diet alcohol!) then off to bed.

A sick sense of humor

I have one. So when my friend, Elana, sent this to me, I thought it was hilarious. I'd just like to share:

Driving Miss Maisy

Summary haiku:
No more U-turns, or
punching steering wheel. Mandy
tells me where to go.



Well. I just made this list of all the stuff that needs to get done in the next day and a half. And I started to freak-the-fuck-out when it reached the bottom fourth of an 8x11 page of notebook paper.

So what's the logical thing to do? Sit down with the laptop and write a blog -- something that is not, incidentally, on that list. Whatever. I'm tired. I haven't been feeling well lately. And I was running around town for work, non-stop, all day.

A girl can only do so much before she hits the wall and needs a swig of vodka. And yes, it does fit into the Weight Watchers plan -- only 2 points! In fact, my good friend Stephanie -- who is also an incredibly talented writer; read her most excellent home-and-life-improvement blog here -- refers to vodka as "diet alcohol." Drink it straight up, and the overall calorie damage is pretty low. I haven't consulted my liver on any other potential damages, however.

Anyhoo, this is what brings me to my computer tonight: I need to extol the virtues of my Christmas present, a GPS navigation system for my car. Besides my dog, Lucy, this is the best, most useful gift I have ever received.

I have absolutely no sense of direction. I'm not sure how I existed before Mapquest. If someone watched me try to find places from above, it would look like a Family Circus installment:



Anyway, this device is like magic. My appreciation for it grows with each day of out-of-the-office assignments in random areas of town. In addition to a visual map and instructions, you can choose from several different voices who will speak the instructions to you as they happen.

I chose Mandy, a pleasant-sounding American girl. Although, for a fee, you also have the option of download the voice of John Cleese from the website. Personally, I'd prefer Method Man -- "Yo, bus' a left at this stoplight, nah'mean?" -- but beggars can't be choosers.



Mandy warns me to get in the proper lane two miles in advance of the turn. She can find me the nearest gas station, library or school, or take me to any address in the U.S. and Guam. But, unlike other navigators I've experienced, she doesn't talk too much or get all pissed off and yell at you when you make a wrong turn.



Our Realtor's system talks for nearly the entire ride and if you screw up, you get scolded: "TURN AROUND AS SOON AS POSSIBLE! TURN AROUND IMMEDIATELY!" Mandy simply recalculates the route from your mistake and pretends it never happened. Just like a girlfriend should.

It has changed my life. And it is helping the environment, because I'm using a helluva lot less gas, and therefore, making less pollution.

I never imagined I'd be quoting Barry Manilow on anything, but I have to say: "Oh Mandy, You came and you gave without taking.... and I need you today, oh Mandy."

OK, time for "Project Runway."

Pointed in the right direction...

Summary haiku:
I'm kinda hungry.
But when my jeans fit better
it will be worth it.


I'm a total cliche right now. It's early January and I'm hopping back on the health train after a dwindling commitment. It's not like this is a bad thing, but I just wish it were still a constant part of my life.

For a while, I transformed into a total gym person. I went five times a week for about 90 minutes a day, did cardio and weight training and my pants started getting bigger. Then we got the dogs, and I started walking them more (three miles a day every day, on average) and going to the gym less. What can I say? I like being outside and spending time with my furry pals.



Then fall happened, and it started getting dark earlier. And then it got colder. So, while Lucy and Archie still ripped around the yard together, our walks became shorter and more infrequent. You can probably connect the dots from here.

After a decidedly awful first week of January, I decided I needed some positive things to focus on to help counter the personal problems going on my life. The house, of course, is one of those happy things. (We close on Friday!) And my hubby is a constant source of happiness and support. Love him!

But I've also joined the Weight Watchers cult and now my entire life revolves around Points.



Not because I'm constantly eating. But because it makes you think about your entire day at once. If you don't prepare carefully, you could be fucked and Pointless by dinner time. It's a total reality check.

Things that seem pretty innocuous -- a handful of Goldfish crackers, an occasional Halloween sized candy bar from my boss' abundant dish or two packets of instant oatmeal instead of one -- add up quickly.



So basically, you have two choices: You either commit to this kind of thing whole-heartedly, or you don't. There's no in between.

Shit. This means no more drinking an entire bottle of red wine after a rough day. No more delicious raspberry mochas from Starbucks. Ah well. It'll be worth it in the long run.



Luckily, moving is gonna help on the exercise front. I spent an hour today carrying boxes up and down stairs into our POD, and in the coming weeks will spend countless hours painting the ceilings, walls, doors and baseboards in our new house (burns 241 calories an hour, based on my particulars).

Anyway, not that anyone really needs all this detail. But I figure making this relatively public will help keep me honest and motivated.

Just try to forgive me for any future angry rants. A girl without her wine and Starbucks isn't always pretty.

Yo ho ho and a bottle of WTF?

Summary haiku:

Pirates 3: A
long wait for very little
reward. Arrrgh! It's bad.


I admit it: I love, love loved "Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl." Johnny Depp was weird and charming and kind of sexy in a sexually ambiguous way. It had a decent story, cool special effects and all kinds of swashbuckling shenanigans. It wasn't going to change the world, but I was thoroughly entertained.

So when the second movie, "Dead Man's Chest" came out, I dragged Kyle there on opening night, which we never do. Because of our opposite schedules, we go to the movies about twice a year. The rest of the time, we rent them on DVD. DMC didn't get the greatest reviews, but I was a big defender. Yes, it was really fucking long, but it had awesome special effects -- Davy Jones and his crew, hello! -- the story line progressed to an interesting place, and Depp was
fantastic again.

This year, "At World's End" was released and we didn't make it to the theater. We meant to, but we got busy or had more important things to do. So knowing what a pirate-lovin' wench I was, Kyle got me the AWE DVD for Christmas.

Never in my life have I been so underwhelmed by something I was looking so forward to seeing. We had no idea what was going on, but kept watching because we thought we'd eventually figure it out. Something about nine pirate lords and finding places that aren't on maps, releasing some crazy, unintelligible lady from her body and an epic battle. But everything was so convoluted and poorly put together, it was like trying to glue together a shattered plate.

All throughout this 2 hour and 48 minute spectacle, Kyle and I kept looking at each other going, "What the hell is happening? Who is that? Why are they doing that?"

I was just begging for crapfest to end, but I'd invested so much time, I wanted to see it through to the end. And the result was like having movie blue balls.

Sigh.

Squirrel popsicle

Summary haiku:

A gift from my son:
Dead squirrel traumatized me
on frigid morning.


Every morning around 6 a.m., I let the pets out to tinkle and whatnot. Unfortunately, I have to physically take them because the side door in our rental house doesn't connect to the fenced back yard.

This morning, Archie was taking his sweet time, preoccupied with something near the back fence. He wouldn't do what he was there to do, and it was cold as shit outside, so I finally called him over. He proudly scurried over carrying something in his mouth. It was dark, so I couldn't really see what it was, but I assumed it was a tennis ball or one of the other dogs toys in the yard.

Before we went inside, I told him to spit it out. It fell to the concrete porch with a dull thud. To my horror, the porch light illuminated what he had: a frozen, partially dismantled squirrel carcass. I looked away as quickly as possible, but it was hard not to notice that the thing was practically inside out.

And Archie just looked up at me and wagged his little stump of a tail, smiling with his eyes.

Happy new year!

<


For the first time in years, I woke up this morning sans hangover. Already, the new year is off to a great start!

Last night for New Year's Eve, I went to dinner at Proof, which I really couldn't afford. But I figured I'd have one last, big splurge for 2007. Kyle was working (he had to cover a college bowl game in Nashville), so I went with a girlfriend and we had a fabulous meal and a great time.

It was one of the few times I have done something "adult" and civilized for New Year's (read: I wasn't surrounded by a bunch of unruly drunk folks or totally drunk myself). And being 35, I guess I was about due for a night like that.

And today, it's snowing outside! Not real snow, mind you... it's not sticking and they're not big, fluffy flakes. But there are white things coming from the sky and that makes me feel joyous. Plus, the hubby is coming home this afternoon and I've missed him.

Everyone keeps asking if I've made any resolutions. I hate calling them that, because nobody ever keeps their new yer's resolutions! So here are some, um, goals for 2008:

1. To read more. Normally, I read a book or two a week. But I've gotten busy lately and I haven't made the time for it. I did read this on Sunday, though, It was a cute, quick read:



2. To regularly back up the files on my laptop. Our computer crashed on Christmas and we had to pay someone to retrieve our stuff, which for me, included tons of music, a year's worth of digital pics and the beginning of what could become my novel. (If you ever have this problem and live in Louisville, call Louisville Geek. They did this for $65, compared to the $300+ that the Geek Squad at Best Buy wanted!)

3. To get back on the exercise wagon. Yeah, yeah. Such a cliche, I know.

4. To check my voice mail more regularly. Unless it's a call from my boss or a source for work, I tend to let my messages sit for a while and then they pile up and I don't want to face them. Must get better about this.




5. To keep my new house totally clean and organized at all times. Easier said than done (especially with pets who have figured out how to open their toy box and pull out a new one about every five minutes). But now that we will have adequate square footage, everything should have its place.

6. To send out Christmas cards in 2008. For the past two years, this task has gotten away from me... mostly because I really like writing personal, hand-written notes in each card. It's a time commitment, man. Granted, there were special circumstances last year (my brother-in-law's passing) and this year (buying a house, packing, moving). But next year, I'm gonna do it. Even if I have to start in September.



Happy January, everybody!