Black Poltergeist Home Owner

My very best bestie in the whole wide world is coming to visit this weekend.  Janetpalooza is imminent, and I am excited, and I am bouncing and starving.  I don't expect you to get that, so here's an asterisk and I will explain later on.  There's something else I need to tell you about right now.  So here:  *

When friends are coming, I generally like things to be neat, so I wanted to sweep and vacuum and what-all, but I've been putting it off because I've been sick and lazy but mostly sick.  So tonight I did do all those things I wanted to do, like clean the bathtubs and the floors and everything.

Anyway, so I got that all done, and then I did the whole ahhhhhhhhhhhTimeToSitOnTheCouch thing, and it was lovely.  Having forgotten that I need to stare intently at CNN and wonder at the fact that I LITERALLY DO NOT KNOW WHERE THINGS ARE IN EASTERN EUROPE AND THE MIDDLE EAST, and oooooh airplane shot down and ooooooooh war???? - wait, where was I?  Oh, yes.  I had momentarily forgotten all of that, so I figured, hey, Jeopardy!

I have lots of episodes.  I watched one last night from May 27.  MAY.  27.  I'm a little bit behind.

Julia is still winning, if that means anything to you.

Okay, so anyway, I sat on the couch, yarn nearby, and I turned on the DVR, and I saw this:

Now.  Let's discuss a few things here.

Thing One:  This was recorded at 9:17 a.m.  I was at work at 9:17 a.m.

Thing Two:  It got the whole episode.  35 minutes.

Thing Three:  BET.  The High Def one.  I did not even think I got that channel.  I've certainly never not once watched that channel.  I obviously don't have time, when I can't even watch my Jeopardy collection.

Thing Four:  Seriously.  38 episodes of Jeopardy.  Also, do you want to judge me for Return to Amish?  Yeah?  Fuck you.  Also, High School Musical is mine, not Caleb's.  I OWN MY CRAZY.

But seriously.  SERIOUSLY.  Moesha!!!

There is no sign of break-in.  I called Sam and asked if he stopped by my house today.  "No," he said, then he muttered "weirdo."  That might not really have happened but kind of it did.  Anyway, I told him what happened, what I found on the DVR, and he agreed that this was, indeed, really fucking weird.

I also texted my dad, the only other person in this town that has access to my house, as my mom is out of town.  He didn't come over, either.

So I called him and told him the deal.

"So no sign of break in?"  Right.  "Could you have accidentally set it up to tape?"  I guess I could have, but I seriously don't think that happened.

Katiebird thinks that my cat did it.  I'm inclined to agree.  Little Hitler likes Brandy.  But even that requires some serious coincidences.  He'd have to have already had it on the right channel.  He'd have to have hit this tiny button the the remote.  It's the smallest button on there.  I'm not sure...

In the end, my dad has decided I either have a black poltergeist or there is a message for me (from God, via Moesha) that I need to experience, so...

I'm going to go watch Moesha.  I'll let you know.



And if another thing records, I'll know it's the real deal.  I've got guests.  They coming fo' me, 'lizabeth!

* Years and years ago, before cell phones, I was going to visit Janie or she was coming to visit me, back when we lived 4 hours apart, and anyway, so she had left me a voice mail at work.  I had a post it in front of me, as one does, where I took a note while I listened to the message:

"Hi!  I'm so excited!  I can't wait to get off work so we can get together.  I'm totally bouncing off the walls!!  Also, I'm STARVING so let's plan to eat..."

I wrote:  "Janet - bouncing & starving"

And a trend was born.

Here we are, a good solid, what, 15?  17???  years later, and I'm here, watching Moesha, and bouncing and starving!

Sarie Has a Dream House!

If I were to describe to you my dream house, this would not be it.  I'm not going to lie, I'm sitting here, right now, sighing as I look at my rental's fireplace, remembering how it would smell up the whole house with smoke and drive both children out of the family room...  oh, good times.

But in the end, my dream house actually would cost me, like, a half million dollars.  And I don't have that much money, and nobody is fool enough to lend me that much money, and I wouldn't be able to pay them back, anyway.  So what we have here is me, avoiding foreclosure.  Well in advance.

Barbie never had Chet the Repo Man, did she?  She so should have.  Although we all know that Day Barbie earned supplemental income from Night Barbie, if you get my drift.  Which is to say, Barbie was a whore.  I think I digress.

Here's the thing:  Dreams are stupid.  Reality fucking rocks.  My reality is that the house is mine, officially.  When I broke into it this evening, it was fine, because I was breaking into MY OWN HOUSE.  

Here are some pictures.  

This is Caleb's room:

Yeah, I have a shelf thingee all up in the corner in here, what-WHAT? 

Hall bathroom:

Floors are pretty.  Subway tile backsplash suits me fine, although it looks pretty nassssty.  The sink rocks, though.  And this room has a secret...

Behind the bathroom door, you find:

Oh my god, you guys, seriously.  This is my favorite thing in the whole house.  A built-in, in the bathroom, and see that panel?  You know what that is? A FUCKING BUILT-IN LAUNDRY HAMPER IS WHAT THAT IS.  Jealous?  YOU SHOULD BE.  IT'S AMAZING.

This here is my master bedroom.  Please note, the carpets are all being removed.  Tomorrow.  Not kidding, tomorrow.  Seriously.  Because they are horrifying.  My real estate agent looked into this room and said, "oh, here's where they did the murder."  I'm going to miss him:

Vanity in my bedroom, vanity in my bedroom, vanity in my bedroom!!!

You know who looks awesome in this room?  Or who would, if their seven year old kid was a wizard with an iphone camera?  Me.  That's who.  Whom.  Dammit, I can't even be cool without using correct grammar.

Booyah.

Sometimes, you look at something, and go, now why...  for example... why would someone put trim on the outside of a bathtub.  Yep.  My bathtub looks like a dining room wall.  The bottom half of a dining room wall.  On the other hand, that there's jets in that there tub!  God only knows if they work, but we gonna have a fine time finding out.  See the potty?  I can rest my wine glass on that.  Lord, I think I just overshared...

What you can't tell is that there is a small vanity light over a completely blank space between the toilet and the door, so over nothing, along with an arm-level plug.  Obvs, there used to be a "his" sink in this part of the bathroom, which is no longer there.  What WILL be in that space is either a cupboardy thingee or a big ol' basket o' towels.

What up, walk-in closet.  Not like the rental's "walk-ins," where you kind of have to shimmy in sideways to get to the back parts.  This one has rails on both sides, and guesswhatguesswhatguesswhat??!!

Shelving unit in the closet!  For my...  shelfy things.

This is a pretty room, and it has been decided that it will be the guest room.  The primary reason for this decision is that the window opens onto the screened-in-porch (hereafter known as "la hacienda"), and I figure, if I put the baby in there, I'll be out there knitting drinking wine and talking on the phone to my mom hosting posh fiestas with my loco friends, and we will be appropriately noisy (note:  I've already begun operation-friend-the-neighbor-chick), so I don't want to keep El Nino awake.  Also, I don't want this to be the playroom, because I don't want to hear all the kids making so much god damn noise.  Also, when my friends come visit, I expect them to be drinking on La Hacienda with me!

Your room is pretty close to ready for you to come visit.  Make it so!

Here we have the playroom.  "What the fuck is on the window," you asked?  It's a weird screen with bars built in.  I DO NOT KNOW WHY.  Bitch is coming down.  That's on the "short list."  This room is tiny but it will be awesome for playing Skylanders and acting out plays with finger puppets.  That's what he do, yo.

Or, we could leave the bars on, and make it hard for him to sneak out when he is a teenager!

On  to the family room.

 Note the door to La Hacienda out the back.  Also note, this light fixture is on the short list, too.  Also note, no fireplace (frowny face).  Also note, Vanna is doing a kick-ass job of selling this house!

I get to buy a rug!! YES INDEED.

La Hacienda!  Hola!  Ole!  Tengo Dos Ijos...

At first, I was like, gotta paint that green thing.  Now I'm like, gotta paint the concrete floor so it matches that green thing.  This is going to be the coolest porch ever- all Dia De La Muerta and shit.  

Vanna is just modeling La Hacienda for you:

Hola!

We have a little strip of back yard.  Right now, it's growing holly as ground cover.  I had no idea that was even an option.  There are also some weird, semi-scary fluffy plant thingees at the base of that tree that may or may not rise from the ground and attack after dark.  Too much Zelda?  Maybe yes.

We don't need a back yard, because I'm a kid who never goes outside!

This is the eating place.  The house has a formal room that can't decide if it wants to be a living room or a dining room, so we are going to call it a living room, so we can stop hearing it bitch and whine.  That leaves this space for the food consumption, a breakfast room that is remarkably like ours in the rental, only with real tile and no linoleum, and fewer dead spiders.  SO FAR.

It's not a boob light!  It's got leaves, but no birds.  WE ARE SATISFIED.

Our kitchen is sucky.  BUT, those holes will be filled with Brand New Appliances, and there is a tile backsplash (GETTING FANCY ALL IN HERE), and the sink is awesome, and the faucet is awesome, and who really gives a shit, anyway, because it's not like I cook, nearly ever.

He looks like a tap dancer.  Also, the cabinets are those french white stained things that are so trendy on HGTV right now, so obvs, I'm moving to Canada, only I'm NOT because it's fucking COLD in Canada.

100% of this picture was to brag to Janie that I get a pantry.  Note, it's pretty nasty, with the old floor, some reddish death dirt, and crappy shelving, but my dad is good at cutting boards to shapes, and I will buy a SECOND rug, if that's what it takes.  It's a pantry.  I am content.

Note to self:  Kitchen gets late afternoon sunlight.

So.  Funny thing about the doors.  First, note the pretty floors.  Try and pretend there isn't an attractive boob right above your head, and notice the doors.  The big door is leaded glass, and I LOVE IT with a big squee girly kind of "can we be best friends and I'll braid your hair" kind of love.  LOVE.  The other door looks awful, it's a storm door, and I don't live in Canada (see above), so this is probably unnecessary, so there's about a 70% chance I will take it down, but...  it's so freaking cool.  It's kitchy, it's orange plastic, and I know, I know, your mamaw had one just like it in 1979, but dang...  It's mod, you know?  I just can't decide...

All in all, though, a nice, welcoming entry way.  Which also seems to get late afternoon sun.  Weird.

This is the formal living room (DECLARED SO AS OF RIGHT THIS VERY MINUTE.)  See that cut-out area, back behind Susanna Hoff?  (by the way, if you get that, I just love you so much I want to make out with you right now) Should I put a couch there, or make my dad build me built-ins.  Seriously, what do you think?  The door to your left (Susanna's right) leads to the kitchen, so I just have visions of having fancy grown-ups come over for coffee, and although we will likely sit in La Hacienda, it's possible that we might need fancy time, and this will be the fancy time room.  With coffee.  So it's totally awesome that the kitchen is right there.  Which does sort of make me think Dining Room, but I have declared it, so...

Hey oh, way, oh, oh wayyyyyoh way oh...

With every house we looked at, I tried to find something special about it, in case we bought it.  Something that would make him ADORE this house above all others.  The first offer, he was devastated because he lost a retaining pond behind the back yard and cannot, now, catch tadpoles.  AS IF HE WAS GOING TO CATCH TADPOLES.  But not kidding, devastated.  This house, I sold him the tree.  "That's your climbing tree," I told him.  I bet, by February, he is all the way up to the crook at the top of this picture.  Lucky kid.  I was stuck climbing apple trees, he's got his own live oak.

My mother said that, when she was a kid, she would climb trees and drop acorns and pine cones down on the chickens in the yard, playing Bombs Over Tokyo.  There are so many things I could say about that statement.  

So that's pretty much it.  As I mentioned, I met the neighbor, Nicole, who I hope will come and have a drink on La Hacienda every now and again.  Come to think of it, there isn't a gate on that side of the house, dammit.  She is going to have to come around or come through the house.  That's all right... anyway, I met her, because her brother parked his truck in my driveway tonight, when I needed to unload Round One of the Great Move of 2014.  They were super cool about it, though, and she has a little dog that's, I don't know, a Shih Tsu or something, and it's name is Gismo or Gonzo or something, and that's fine.  It's going to be weird to live directly next door to someone who is younger than 70 and doesn't (so it seems) beat his wife.  I hope we become friends.  On the other side, those people appear (see above) to have a boat, so they are nice people.  Boat people are nice people.

I'm ready to get the moving on the road.

Ready to have a drink on La Hacienda!

Bienvenue en Louisiane

Oh, shit, y'all.  It's been a week.  Like a few weeks, actually, but whatevs.  Whatevs.

So, I had vacation I had to burn or lose, and so I took it last week.  Was off work for a week.  A WEEK.

We had Mardi Gras parades and stuff like that the weekend before, so we took the beginning of last week to recompose ourselves, to relax and unwind and the like.

And then the Doodle and I headed on up to the ATL (I seriously almost typed Hot-lanta, which is uncool because I like to make fun of people who say that.)  I was seeing the Janie girl and her sweet baby but her mom, who had been ill for a very long time, had taken a bad turn, so I ended up doing some un-planned things.  Drinks with old coworker friends.  Sing-alongs with my favorite gay boyfriend.  Yarn shopping.

Ahem.

And it was all super fun times.  It really was.  Saturday morning, J's mom passed away, so that part was sad.  It wasn't unexpected, but still.  It also gave me the impetus to stay in Atlanta a few extra days, to attend the service and whatnot.

We ended up having adventures in funeral planning, and there was a good reason to be thankful for my sweet little Rav 4, which did a badass job in hauling me around.  I love my car.

In the meantime, the baby spent time with his daddy's family, and I drank Dunkin Donuts and ate barbecue and indulged in at least one Sweetwater Blue, and so forth.

There were a few memorable moments.  Let's see:

1) Ask DADT about his inappropriate computer password, that he had to give to the deskside support team at his work.  Which is HILARIOUS.  Because it is INAPPROPRIATE.

2)  Ask the funeral director why on EARTH he thinks it was possible that "that girl with the baby," namely JANIE, could be my DAUGHTER, since, you know, she's a teensy bit older than me (just saying.) And, you know, there for her mother's funeral.

There are more.  TONS more, but I am tired, and I've got a cold thing going on, and I'm about to go eat lunch.

Just know this.  When we were getting off the interstate at my exit, yesterday, I said to the baby,  "Caleb, are you glad to be getting off of this highway and going home?"   He said, "YUP!"  I said, "Me, too!"  He said, "THANK JESUS."

Because that's how we roll.

Bouncy, Starvy Georgia-bound Girl

First off.  Biopsies were fine.  I am fine.  Duh.  As if you had any other idea.

Second off.  My BABY, my big one, my first born?  He went to his senior prom.

Let's just let that sink in for a minute.

...

I.  KNOW.

But look how sweet:

They had fun.

...

Third off.  We are heading to Georgia on Thursday.  That is, the baby and I are, and we will be leaving early so as to get there in time to do Georgia stuff, including practicing with the church choir at my old church, because they love me enough to pretend they want me to sing with and for them, even though I haven't been there in two years.

That's pretty flipping adorable.

So Georgia, get ready, buddy, because I'm on way way...

And it's going to kick total ass.

Donut

While I do NOT like to hug, I do, however, like to be taken care of.  My husband is proving his worth by taking care of everyone/everything else at our house while I go to bed on Nyquil at 7:00 p.m.  Night after glorious, glorious night.

I'm still sick.

It's either pertussis or the black plague of death.

Honey badger don't care.

So in the bed, all Nyquilled up, I'm turning on the tee vee, which is already going to either be on History, Nat Geo, or Discovery.  Mama doesn't like the comedies.

Has anybody else noticed (besides Janie, my hetero-life partner) that Nat Geo is All Things Nazis, lately?  HOW AWESOME IS THIS?

Ich Bin Ein Berliner!