Thursday, September 22, 2011

You Haul

Fuck packing. For real. When I get Oprah rich, I will just buy all new stuff if I ever have to move. I don't even care if I have a staff of people to pack it all for me, I want nothing to do with it ever again.

I don't even feel sorry for homeless people any more. One shopping cart full of stuff and no neighbors sounds pretty awesome right now. No telephone? No random piles of detritus to be sorted? Sign. Me. Up. If I don't end up Oprah rich (unthinkable), then moving is going to involve me shoving my sleeping bag and backpack into a stolen Target cart and rolling on down the road.

It sounds heavenly, a close second to just getting all new stuff.

Between wandering from room to room staring at things today, I finally got to the point where I was just tossing glass things into boxes, figuring they'll make it if it's meant to be.

So, we may not have any dishware by the time we get to the new house.

And I don't care. As long as we get there.

Monday, September 19, 2011

Pack Rat

I move on Saturday. The amount of packing to be done is alarming.

I guess all of the time I've spent picking out paint colors and reading the Hunger Games wasn't as productive as I thought.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Let's Play Guess Which Kid

Guess which kid wept for the Kennedy family on the way home today?


Guess which kid stuck 2 pieces of metal into the outlet of a 1950s electrical system yesterday?

Don't worry, everybody's fine.

Sunday, September 11, 2011

House Signs

So there came a point where I looked at Mr. Ashley and said, "I'm going to be disappointed if we don't move to that ugly little house," and he said, "I know, me too."

So we negotiated with the new landlord, got an astronomical deal for our area and got the keys for the Ugly Seagull. Well, Mr. Ashley negotiated and got the keys because I don't like unfun grown-up stuff unless there's no one else to do it for me.

Oddly enough, the last time I was at Wal-mart I decided I wanted a tie-dyed key. I don't know why, I'm not even a tie-dye type of person. I just wanted one of the cute custom keys and that was what I picked for the house we live in now.  I didn't tell anyone though because it was a weird want. I was right not to tell anyone because when I told my friend this story tonight she said, "Why on earth did you want a tie-dyed key??" and I understood why she asked.

But Mr. Ashley came home with the signed lease and the well-worn key was a tie-dyed key.

I'm a big believer of signs (and no, I'm not a schizophrenic, although I'm also a big believer in thinking I may have every disease or disorder I've ever heard of) and I think this was my wink from the world that the life plan is right on track (I still don't know where we're going, though.)

Also, tonight I had a girl date with above-mentioned friend. We went to see the Ugly Seagull but it was late and I was afraid we were lost. It was dark and the roads were curvy. I finally saw a familiar landmark and turned around into our driveway and she gasped and said she knew this house.

"How do you know this house? Do I even want to know?" I asked.

She said that her car had flooded in that neighborhood (fantastic!) and she was caught in calf-deep water with a toddler in her arms and thunder and lightning everywhere. Terrified, she ran to the nearest house, up under the dry carport and to their front door which they opened and welcomed her and her child inside until help could arrive.

How perfect is that?

So, I'm back to thinking it may all work out after all.

(Once I get rid of 800 square feet of stuff.)

Saturday, September 10, 2011


Big Kid started the Harry Potter series at the beginning of summer. Long after I had told him to get in bed last night, allowing 10 minutes for reading before sleep, he appeared in my doorway with a sad, sweet little smile.

"What are you doing, bud?" I asked.

"Did you finish your book already?" Mr. Ashley guessed. Big Kid nodded, still smiling.

"You finished the last book?? Was it good?" He nodded again, smiling big but with watery eyes.

"What is wrong?" Mr. Ashley asked, confused at the mixed up emotions.

"Are you sad because it's over?" I knew because I do this too, with shorter books than the Harry Potter series. I mourn the loss of imaginary characters and their temporary involvement with my life.

He nodded again. "It was just so good. It went by so quickly and now I'm done with Harry and his friends forever..." his voice cracked and his face creased again as he finished explaining, his little shoulders slumped. I promised we'd take him to the book store for Narnia or Lord of the Rings or another series the very next day. He went to bed happy about his accomplishment and sad that he had accomplished it.

I love that boy of mine! (Both boys, of course, but this post is only about the one.) He is my mini-me.

We watched Up last night for the 50th time and both cried...again. Multiple times throughout the movie. He's decided to be Mr. Frederickson for Halloween and I haven't been this excited about a Halloween costume since they've been able to choose their own.

(little kid is going to be a ninja...sigh).

Thursday, September 8, 2011

The Ugly Seagull

So, I had settled in really nicely with this whole stay-at-home mom thing (especially now that the kids are gone all day). The laundry couch is a long lost memory, my finger and toe nails are painted weekly, I go to the gym regularly, I grocery shop with a list and without yelling at people like a crazed maniac, I go to stores if I want to...and wait for this one, if you're not already gagging you're about to...I do crafts. Ugh. I should be so ashamed, it's disgusting. I'm the very woman I used to enjoy making fun of!

But God looked down upon all of this contentment and was like, "What the hell happened here? How is she so happy? Has she finally just accepted her unemployed, non-real estate owning, broke-ass, rudderless lot in life? Did she forget that I gave her dad cancer? Someone hand me her snowglobe so I can shake this shit up, this cannot be."

(I wasn't there, but this is how I picture that it went down. And for the record, I'm back to believing in God again and have been very faithful about it. I even comprehend the Jesus thing better now and was fully embracing accepting the whole deal as-is despite some of my former doubts. I've even been praying nightly, and for people other than myself. So we should be good, I think.)

So He got in touch with our landlord and our landlord called and said that the job interview he was so sure he got...he wasn't so sure he got now. And he wanted his house back if not. By October 1st (when our lease ended but we were all under the understanding it would be extended.)

So that sucked but my brain just said, "Okay, just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming swimming swimming," like Dory does in Finding Nemo because it is very good advice. Enthusiastically I stated, "That's alright! Home is where WE are! We will find something else!" until I looked everywhere and found NOTHING else. Nothing that would accept our 2 dogs.

I had to decide if we were the type of people who would put our 13 year old German Shepherd to sleep (because who would want an ancient dog with a bad leg?) and find another home for our weiner dog. Who is a punk but he is our punk. It turns out, we are not those kind of people. But we are also not homeless kinds of people, so that was extremely stressful.

We had seen one very weird little house in a great neighborhood. It smelled bad and it was ugly. It wanted to be a beach cottage when it grew up but I think the definition of beach cottage changed in the last 60 years. It was 5 minutes from the beach, in one of the best school zones in the state and was very inexpensive. But did I mention it was weird and smelled really bad? If I had to name this house I would call it the Ugly Seagull.

So in desperation I told Mr. Ashley to take me back to the smelly house. He did not want to. I insisted and since the owner left it unlocked and gave us permission, we went inside again. It had been painted and smelled less. Its high pitched beamed ceilings and the entire back of the house being glass made it feel light and airy. It has all tile floors. Its screened back porch is enormous. It only had 2 bedrooms but they were each set up as a master and were fairly spacious. I kind of liked it. Its ugly became quirky and its little became quaint. Its price and school zone became very tempting. It is odd but so are we and frankly, I'm past caring.

We called the owner and he said we could have it whenever and do whatever and he's owned it forever and never plans on moving to it or selling it (and it's really too ugly to sell in today's market anyway but he didn't say that). Mr. Ashley was still reluctant but I was looking up Pottery Barn beach-like decor and getting excited about the proximity of Target. Also, my neighbor is driving me fucking crrrrrrrrrazy lately. That's another post but that situation is full on out of control and she just refuses to not be friends. I had to tell her FOUR times today that I did not want to and was not going to take a walk with her today. No is NOT an answer to her. She calls me every day and doesn't stop if I don't answer or return her call.

So we were going over to the Ugly Seagull tonight to sign the lease and even Mr. Ashley started to see the appeal, we were excited. He called our current landlord just to give him a head's up and he said that the position he interviewed for hasn't been filled yet, that he knows it's between him and one other guy, and that he thought he would know by Saturday. And for us please not to leave.

And I look at my lovely kitchen with the pot-filling faucet over the stove and think of the amazing neighborhood hoopla around Christmas and Halloween and how much we like walking to school, and the thought of not moving to a weird, ugly, smelly little house is very tempting. But the Ugly Seagull has grown on me and I'd also be a little sad not to move there, oddly enough.

Our current landlord called back in a panic and offered to refund the cost of whatever deposit we put on the Ugly Seagull if he did get this job offer. I guess the good news is that we won't be homeless, the bad news is that either our house will be small and strange or I'll continue having my stalker neighbor calling me every single day and being all up in my business.

So I guess I'm in limbo (and I HATE that) and will just have to trust that God has a plan (and accept that He just cannot stand any plans I may make for myself.)

But I'd rather be back to painting my toe nails and watching Maury from the treadmill.