Progress.

16 days ago on a Saturday morning, I tucked into seriously painting the house. Gallons of paint later, I'm seeing results but far from finished. Sunday night marked three weekends in a row very productively spent.

I'm a little bit attention-deficit-disorder when it comes to working on projects. I work best in a piecemeal and staggered fashion-- I can get bored with prolonged, tedious tasks. To that end, I've painted a bit in several rooms and haven't finished an entire room yet.

I did, however, get new handles for the bathroom cabinet and put the freshly-painted doors back on same. It may seem like a little thing, but it felt like a Big Deal™ to me to be able to say that one thing in this house is finished. This is a typical mid-century house, but I thought the old-styled molded glass handles look pretty in a simple and homey way. I like this look. :)

One challenging thing has been that the summer was so hot until this weekend and I felt enervated by the oppressive heat. A couple weeks back, though, the heat wasn't bothering me so much and I got to work. It's kind of ironic, then, that everything turned so agreeable on Friday since I'd gotten used to the furnace when I'd open to screen doors and window screens to let the paint air out of the house. Saturday's high was about 90, which seems cool compared to the 113 degree temperature of a week before. Stepping out the front door here during windy times often has felt like stepping into a hairdryer.

To my delight, the walls are actually in really great condition here, just in need of a good layer of Kilz and then some fresh paint. Oh, and the ceilings, too. Some new switchplates and a new fixture here and there and this'll be like a whole other animal. It feels good to see progress. More to follow.

from the folks who brought us Viking Kittens...

Singing Kittehs.

Mirror, mirror on the skull...

Miss Magoo stepped out Saturday night.

Coworker had a birthday, and all the cool kids were going. Met in nearby city at a chain eatery for a nosh and I indulged in a couple Modelo Especials. The great thing there was the company-- we yukked it up, and it was good to get a break from the painting and things I've been doing in the house. I also got to see a more relaxed side of co-workers who are generally more strait-laced. This was a lot of fun.

We went to the birthday girl's house and drank pom-tinis, then made for a nearby club. Driving my own car alone, I stopped at a record store to pick up the new Imogen Heap cd. Gas was low so I filled up rather than having to stop later. Then I made for the club where I was to join up with the progressive party.

I generally have remarkably good parking mojo, so on the rare occasions I don't magically get a whizz-bang parking space, I am truly surprised. Well, I pulled into this unfamiliar parking lot, and what do you know if there wasn't a sweet little parking space just for me and right in front of the club door? It was right next to the handi-capable parking spot, but I figured mebbe they wouldn't ding my door. *shrug*

I went in the door and had to pay a $5 cover charge in exchange for a coupon for 2 50 cent domestic beers. Um, okay. I convened with my gang and went over to the bar. I waited my turn and asked the bartender what type beer they had and he looked peeved. Gosh, I'm sorry for asking you to do your job, dude. If you had a menu up or even a blasted row of bottles of the available libations, I wouldn't trouble you. I quickly said *name of domestic beer I won't name here because prolly someone I know and respect likes it and, well, I don't.* and he gave me both my .50 beers at once. I took my beers to the table and said -- no one blunders quite like I do-- "I can't believe I'm drinking this shit" as I sat my two beers on the table amongst the beer bottles of all my friends, all of whom were drinking the same beer I'd just put on the table. Fortunately, the only two people who heard me over the blaring music thought it was hilarious, rather than insulting. Gee whiz.

Then I saw it, the mystic mirror cowskull spinning above the dance floor against the backdrop of a cowboys game on the large screen tv. This was well worth the trip and price of admission, bad beer and all. I giggled over it with the other girls, we snapped pics on our cell phones, and I said my goodnight to my friends, leaving my second beer to the custody of someone who wanted it.

I started my car and carefully backed out of my space, again marveling at my good parking fortune this night. That was when I saw the yellow diagonal lines of the no-parking area next to the handicapped parking.

*Whoopsie!* You can dress me up, but you can't take me anywhere.

Immi''s new cd is out...

...and here she was last night on David Letterman:


First Train Home - Imogen Heap

Though I'm generally opposed to stuffing dogs into get-ups...

I am in paroxysms of delight over this:
h/t to Swamp Rabbit: thanks for making my millennium!

USS Enterprise, NCC1701-K9‏

nausea ad naseum...

I go dutifully to my cubicle each day. I can deal with vealdom-- truly I can.

I've not nestled in so much as others. Feeling as I do that I'll be marched to the front door by security any day now, I've not burdened myself with the torment of having to pull personal photos and ephemera off the walls of my little space.

I can deal with the occasional yelling customer-- I don't blame them and I have a goal of trying to help every one of them. I can deal with the stressed-out co-workers wringing their hands and wondering -- as I do-- how soon we'll be shown the door because we is n00bs and expendable. *shrug*

I can deal with my schedule changing every two weeks. I can deal with lunches and breaks which are magically rearranged between the time of clocking in and time for the first break. *gasp* I can even deal with the fact that we worker bees have no record of our clock-in times coming- and going- wise, but if we should venture from our cube for a personal break - even under two minutes-- we will get a memo with that detail high-lighted the following week.

May I go to the bathroom? Mother may I?
Yeah, I can deal with it.

I can't, however, deal with much more of the eye-watering depth-charge flatus from the guy in the next cube.

Srsly.
It's like a brown fog rolling over the cube wall, and there's absolutely no bloody circulation and especially no escaping it when I'm in the middle of a phone call, gagging. I'm going to get one of those odor neutralizing cans and set it up on the corner of the cube the next time he lets fly.

I suppose this must have been an episode of The Office, right? Is there some proscribed method for dealing with a rude gasbag? He doesn't seem intentionally rude, otherwise, but I really don't know how to broach the topic. I don't want to work next to him much longer, though. Ew.

The Shoe-Tist.

I'm srsly drooling over this red suede confection from Cole-Haan. Sadly (or just as well, actually), these $350 puppies sold out practically overnight.

I'm digging on the whip-stitch satin ribbon around the edges of these Betsey Johnson delights.

These red ones are campy as can be, which means I may have to have them. I'm drooling.

My inner drag-queen is crying out for the pink streetwalker sandals. Prolly not getting those, either.

Doesn't it just suck to behave and live within a budget? *le sigh*

Alas.

I'll just console myself by wearing my Gladiatrix Space Hooker shoes today.

In a fit of industry...

...I've barreled through about a gallon and a half of Kilz2 and an interior paint in the past week and I have a fresh 2 gallon bucket of Kilz2 I've already put a healthy dent in. I've kicked working on the house into high gear. It's still hot as all git-out, but I'm a little more acclimated to it than I was earlier in the spring.

If Holly Golightly were a house, she wouldn't be this one, but this might be her cousin from 'burbs.

I wanted to tell you about a couple gadgets that are making things nicer at chez phlegm. I noticed not long after moving to Elsewhere that my hair was getting to be more and more of a mess - dull and frizzy. I decided maybe the minerals in the water in Elsewhere were having a negative effect on my Medusa gear. Last weekend I picked up a GE shower water filter at home despot. The difference was instantaneous, and my hair is looking glossier and more its normal self-- wild, but normal for me. There are some negative reviews here on this particular product, but I didn't have massive expectations for $22, and I've seen a difference, so there. I'm just saying if there's a problem with your water, at least it's good to know there's a relatively cheap and simple fix for it.

The other thing is these incredible pour spouts by Allway. I've been getting them for a couple bucks each at home despot. You snap it tight on the rim of your 1 gallon paint can, and then you can easily seal and un-seal the lid a la Tupperware. It beats having to mallet the lid on every time if you're going to be tucking into the same can for several days in a row. The little rim for paint brushes has a couple teeny magnets to hold the paint brushes up above the paint. Neato! Plus you can use the same one again and again. It's also much easier to be tidy with the pouring and not slop a lot of the paint product down the side of the can.

It's amazing what a stark contrast just a little bit of paint can make on a place. I'm looking forward to having some photos to show off. It's a neat house with some lovely qualities, and I'm looking forward to letting it shine. :)

Winecups.

I don't know what you call this phase of cactus growth, but I think it's lovely, even though they may require amputation. All the new buds which popped out this spring have turned a lovely claret color and seem on the verge of doing something fabulous. I could be wrong, though.





Today I'll try to scrub most of the Kiz2 off my arms before I go back to work. I got a lot of scrubbing and painting done this weekend. I would have loved to laze about all weekend instead, but there's so much left to be done, and I'm looking forward to having things, clean, freshly painted and in order. It's a nice feeling, making progress.

Saturday I went to nearby city on the errand of picking up a gift for a pre-teen birthday girl. I went into the store and asked the clerk if they have in stock the DVD of the Jonas Brothers' concert. He said he'd check with a vacant expression. I hurriedly added "it's not for me" and he said "they all say that." *harumph!

Have a great week!

Sunday, Puppy Sunday: Image of Chuy past

Chuy was such an adorable baby. He's equally adorable now, but he was the most fetching puppy. Then again, the most adorable puppy you've ever seen is always the most recent one you've seen, right? This was almost exactly a year ago. Everyone melted when they saw him - I was even taken aback by how he tugged at my heartstrings. Then again-- I'm his mama.

Yesterday, Tole's dad made the mistake of telling a gathering that he saw someone in town selling rat terrier puppies. One in the crowd who knows me just a skosh riveted his gaze on mine and said "No" in firm, resounding tones. Why did he think I was thinking "ooh, rat terrier puppies. need new puppy. must. Have.....???" *blink* *blink* I was thinking nothing of the kind. Srsly.

Here's Chuy with my baby sis in her office. She's a bosslady now, and she's good at it! Now that I look at this, I realize I gave her all that jewelry she's wearing-- what was I thinking? That opal ring is particularly dazzling. Love the spiny oyster bracelet and then there's that caribbean blue turquoise from Durango Trading. Hey Sis - can I borrow that stuff sometime? :P

I want one of these:

h/t to Jim

about 900 kinds of wrong.

Twilight High School Musical

That's going on the blog.

Me: You can't polish a turd.

Lin: No, but you can get a good medium gloss on one. Ask the turdmaster how she knows.

five percent more present...

A couple years ago, Atavist had a video linked on his blog which I've remembered frequently in recent times. The link was to a video of Nathaniel Branden speaking. I can't find the video now, but at the time-- nearly two years ago-- I was recovering from pneumonia and thinking of how to move forward in my life. Anyway, it made an impression.

One thing that's always bugged me about contemporary American life is this idea that you as you are now are simply not enough, not good enough. I hate the mindset that you must constantly strive to make yourself over. I think what is within you is uniquely your own and should be the thing you are bringing to the party, rather than making yourself over in the image of someone else's ideal. While it's good not to be overly self-indulgent, I think it's a good thing to feel that your own soulful spark is innately good and something to be treasured rather than reviled.

Anyway, the Branden video seemed profound, and I still think so. He said "what if you brought 5% more presence to everything you do?" or words to that effect. What if you are 5% more attentive, try 5% harder, bring that much more energy to your tasks in life?

I have a lot to do on my house. I think pretty much anyone does, at any given time, have a lot they need to accomplish to maintain the place they are living. My problem is my busy life has given me plenty excuses to dawdle in my task. I've been justified in moving at a glacial pace. It's hot, I've reasoned. I'm tired and working a lot, I've told myself. I need more time to goof off, it turned out. Well, all these are good reasons and I don't regret how I've spent my time, but I've stepped the home maintenance into high gear.

I've been painting and reorganizing and slowly unpacking more things from the storage unit. I don't want to make the house over into any particular thing. I just want it nice and clean, and to have more of my things around me again.

I'm getting there. I'll have a goal of working 5% harder on it, but this week, it's been more like 95%. Let's see how long that lasts! I already know I'll creak out of bed Friday morning, having painted part of the hall ceiling Thursday night. I expect I'll be whimpering, but it feels good to see the results of the painting. Pictures to follow.