A Polite Southern Woman…I am not!
Howdy gang!
Phew. I wish I could say all this mess was finished and done with, but it isn't. I must say, there is certainly a learning curve when it comes to buying and then occupying a new house. At first I was so proud of myself for making it through the loan process and the trip down here and remembering a long list of things to do with a brain, frankly, with maybe three functioning memory cells remaining. Yay me! I remembered the cats. Yay! I remembered the child! YAY!! I remembered to turn on the electric and the phone/cable/wireless which is allowing me to write to you tonight. YAY me!
Okay enough of that. So I forgot a few things along the way. Who cares? Right? No one really needs the gas turned on...hot water is seriously overrated. Water in and of itself...well, at least I had it still in spite of not switching it to my name. Remember, I am a long long long time apartment owner. We don;t pay for all these little details. Hey, I was thrilled to find a subdivision where for 60 bux a month they do your lawn for you (weed whacking and all!) and take the trash away! Ha! Closest thing to a condo a gal can get. Only...I can keep the cats. Right? Oh and I can yell and not worry someone will hear me. Well...once I get furniture in here. The echo off these ceilings is ridiculous. But what I truly forgot...or rather did not grasp the concept of, is just how much furniture a three bedroom house is going to require.
Oh shit. And I have Ethan Allen taste on an author's budget. Ruh roh.
On the plus side, I got the former owner's dining set for a steal. On the minus side, I hate the rugs. I want wood floors and I want them NOW. Hell, every time I step out of the dining room my foot hits the tacking strip under the rug and I can feel it straight through. And don't you know, I never EVER seem to miss the damn thing. Damien already tore up the rug in my soon-to-be-okay-maybe-not-cuz-I-can't-afford-a-desk office. My bedroom is an ugly gold color and the bathroom a fashionable shit brown. I mean seriously...who paints a bathroom shit brown? There has to be a joke here somewhere. But otherwise they had great taste in paint. Wish I could say the same for Bianca. No amount of coaxing is going to get me out of painting that room of hers pink and purple. Luckily she let me choose the shades. I chose the fairest of pastels so it wouldn't hurt so much, but I have a feeling it's going to look like a nursery once the white furniture comes. (Ethan Allen. ADORABLE!!! And quite capable of growing with her and putting up guests. Hint hint, Laura, Tanya, Renee...everyone!)
Looks like I will be the last to get anything (well, discounting the new BBQ and the washer and dryer and the HD TV-40 inches!! WOOWOO! Size does matter!!) as far as household furnishings are concerned. I got B a queen sized bed in the hopes that finally she will stop rolling off and hitting the floor. HEh. I'll let you know. Her bathroom is simple and Victorian in decor...little roses. She wasn't pleased. She wanted a cross between Sponge Bob and Fairies.
Umm...I think NOT. Yes, yes I am mean. Yes, I never get you anything. Yes, I am no fun. Now move over so I can sleep in the only bed in the house, under your new bedding, staring at your new school clothes, your DS Lite, your DVR, your...well, let's just say I have good cause for buying B clothes stamped with SPOILED, PRINCESS and BRAT on them. Hehehe.
I have only been in the house 36 hours or so and already met half the moms on the block and feel highly inadequate. Their homes are darling...I don't do darling. I do solid, matching, and utilitarian....liberally decorated with cat themed items. Oh the pressure! Just slap my ass and call me Gerard Butler, I am as Spartan as they come. Well...unless we talk books. Yeah. No Spartan going on there. And hey, WTF am I going to do with all my erotica I used to keep front and center on the bookcases?
Hehehe...why, keep it there, of course. Better to weed out the prissy sorts right off the top.
Complaint Department:
How can we help you?
Uhh...my washer and dryer fixtures are...well, how to say this...fucked.
Ma'am, what do ya'll mean by...umm...that?
I mean I bought two gorgeous front loading machines, paid a fortune for the pedastals to raise those puppies up so I wouldn;t have to bend over when doing my own wash in my own home for the first time in years, only come to find out the washer is on the dryer side and the dryer on the washer side so that the doors in the front of the machines hit back to back.
Back to back, Ma'am?
Yes, as in I can't unload the washer and toss it into the dryer! The doors are in the way! I have to drop it in a basket, close the door to one machine, open the other, bend over and load the dryer.
Wow, Ma'am. That's totally fucked!
That's all I'm sayin'!
Moving truck comes tomorrow. I bet this REALLY gets fun now!
BTW, I am loving every minute of this.
see you guys soon,
hugs and kitties
Jacki
NOTE
Content imported from Blogger may have display issues with formatting.
The full archive of Blogger content is still available here:
Jacquelyn Frank Blogger Archive