The Palace Part Deux

Whew. Man, we've been working hard on this house and it still isn't all put together yet! It's unbelievalbe to me that I own so. much. stuff. Actually, it's not that unbelievable. I'm a bit of a pack rat. I hate throwing things away. I think I had every birthday card I ever received until I went off to college. I went through my desk to throw things away (something I do every 20 years or so) and found all these cards from like my 8th birthday and stuff. I even found a $20 bill in one! Happy happy happy belated birthday to me! I also love to collect things like books, cds, records, etc. You know, heavy things. Things that make moving totally suck.

Examples of my Pack-rat-itude

Anyways, the house is going to look great once we have everything set up and unpacked. Except for the linoleum. I think I may have mentioned the linoleum. Here are a few promised pictures:

eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeewwwwwwwww!

Mmmmmk, now that that is out of the way, let me give some props to my boyfriend Chris. In one day, he was here to meet the cable/internet guy, the electrician, the other maintenance man, and the guys who came to replace the screens (who thought residents weren't in the place yet. When Chris answered the door, the guy apparently nearly wet himself). Anyways, that's a lot of stuff (thanks babe!). He also got a lot of our stuff set up, including what will be our music room. How sweet to have the space to even think about being able to have a whole room dedicated to music. Woo!

The ground floor is a lot more put together than the upstairs, so I've added some pics for your viewing pleasure. Welcome to The Palace (inside joke between Chris and I. Don't worry your pretty little heads about it):

Above is part of our living room space. We have our TV all set up (Chris and I have purchased two major things together: a canoe and this TV). Notice Chris's new Xbox 360, aka, his new girlfriend. I know it looks messy, but that's just because it is. My goal is to have things looking presentable by Saturday, when my mom is coming to visit. I doubt I'll have everything on the walls, but, I'm hoping to have the boxes unpacked and things put away. 

Here is another view so you can see the fireplace (fire!) and the sliding glass door. I bought the curtains (or so I thought) at Kmart for what I thought was a great deal. Turns out, it was only ONE panel of the two panel set. Chris had to go get ANOTHER one. Um, screw you Kmart. The picture showed two. Pictures should not lie. I'm too busy to read the packaging!

Here is the bunny's part of the living room. Yes, I realize he has a lot of space. Despite what many people think, rabbits actually do not do well cooped up all the time. You wouldn't either! Don't make me test you.

The kitchen. Looks pretty good... except for that floor! Notice the daisies Chris got me yesterday because I had a shitty/stressful day. I'm pretty lucky.

Well, that's a lot of pictures, but I'll have more when things start getting put together. We have some things to figure out still, mainly that Chris is coughing and sneezing a lot, even after we changed the air filters. Suggestions welcome!

Oh, and PS, I had another Ryan the Girl moment today on the phone at work. Someone kept saying they were looking for Ryan, and didn't get that that was ME. Took awhile to get him to comprehend that "this is she" means "THIS.IS.SHE."

RYAN'S RECOMMENDATIONS:

Listening: Miles Davis. Actually, I'm getting ready to listen to Miles Davis here soon. Kind of Blue is still my favorite (and yes, I realize how cliche it is to like this particular album best but I do not care).

Reading: Chesapeake. Some crazay shit goin' down on the colonial eastern shore. Fo shizzle.

Working Out: Back to doing 30 Day Shred! Yay!

Watching: SNL Commericals on Netflix Instant on the Xbox! Technology is cool. Sometimes.

Our Palace

It's official. Chris and I are in our new (rented) house. We're sort-of camping right now, as most of the furniture is in storage until tomorrow (when we shall pick it up in a moving truck). We've blown up the blow-up mattress and pushed it next to Chris's single bed mattress on the floor of the master bedroom. It kind of feels like being at a sleep over or something.

The house is a two-floor, three-bedroom, 1&1/2-bath duplex (side-by-side style. I've never understood why people just don't call them townhouses). We plan on having a music room/office and a workshop in the two extra rooms. The house has lots of space, and we're really excited.

It is not, however, "perfect." The ugliest linoleum ever manufactured lives in the foyer and kitchen. Not only is it completely hideous, but it's scratched up and old. It seriously looks like someone went to a flooring store and said "I would like such-and-such square feet of your butt-ugliest flooring, please" and then took it home and punished it for being so frickin' disgusting-looking. Anyways, I'm sure it is there because it was dirt cheap to put in. Pictures will follow, don't worry. I haven't taken the time to dig my camera up out of the piles of stuff currently strewn about the place. One other thing is that the house is a weird orange color. Yeah, kinda gross, but it's not like we're living in the yard and always looking at it.

After we get settled in and put the furniture where we want it, I will go around the house to take some pics (in case you want to see it). We have a fireplace (! Fire is fun!), a small yard, and a few other cool things.

Yay for us!

RYAN'S RECOMMENDATIONS:

Listening: "At Last" by Etta James. So good.
Reading: Chesapeake by James Michener, http://www.dooce.com/ by Heather Armstrong.
Watching: NOTHING, because the TV is not set up yet!
Working Out: Monday is the day I will finally be able to get back into my lovely routine. Can't wait.

Random Goings On

Whew, the past few days have been completely exhausting. I’m actually asleep right now. Pretty impressive how I can type and sleep at the same time, yes (call the circus!)? Lots to report:

My band had a couple gigs this weekend. One of them was a show at a local pub, which we do on a monthly basis. This time there was some guy who was totally trashed who kept yelling “play that again!” after every song (are you sure you don’t wanna hear maybe the next song instead?). We were talking about how it would have been funny to keep playing the same song over and over, but then decided he would be the only there not to notice. The other was at Presidents Park in Williamsburg. We played for about 7 bored people and 43 giant presidents (Obama has not been built yet!). The park is a winding sidewalk with 18-foot busts of every president for the public’s viewing pleasure, and is a sincerely strange place.

I was also woken up early every single day after a bunch of very late nights in a row. This morning I nearly punted my rabbit out the window when he woke me up at 7:30 (kidding. Instead I gave him treats. I’m such a good bunny mommy).


Let’s see, oh yeah, I got put on an antibiotic on Thursday (It’s hard to decide what the boundaries should be when it comes to writing a blog, but, I’ve made the call on this one, which is to say, “you don’t wanna know.” Mainly because I’m pretty sure you don’t). Anyhow, the reason I’m even mentioning it is that the bottle says not only “do not drink alcoholic beverages when taking this medication,” but also “check all medicine or food labels to help avoid hidden sources of alcohol.” Um? Sounds like my Metronidazole is telling me that a government conspiracy is afoot. Is The Man secretly injecting alcohol into our food? Does the FDA know about these “hidden sources?” Are they in on it? Will I get drunk if I eat enough processed food? Are they trying to keep the population in a stupor so we don’t rise up against them?


Also, I found my toothbrush cup in the dishwasher here in Grandma’s House World (told ya!). But, the same day, my toothpaste disappeared. So, I searched everywhere and found it in the makeup basket on top of the clothes dryer. Apparently my stuff is being spirited away by the Cleaning Fairy, who is the second-cousin-once-removed of the Tooth Fairy.


T minus 60 hours or so until I Chris and I get the keys to our new place. Things are going to cray-zay again, so I apologize if I can’t post as often.

RYAN’S RECOMMENDATIONS:


Listening: Check out the song “All for Leyna” by Billy Joel if you haven’t already. It’s freakin’ awesome.


Reading: Chesapeake. Jamestown, The Eastern Shore, indentured servants, canoes, mosquitoes, greatness.

Watching: Chris and I just watched the movie The Runaways, which is about Joan Jett’s first band. It’s about chicks who rock, what can I say?

Working out: Being bad.

Farfels and Three-Legged Ducks

Today was one of those days where I got my ass kicked by life. I just wanted to sit on the floor and throw my hands in the air and say “I give up.” But, on the bright side, I only cried twice (go me!). One thing that helped was today’s post on my favorite blog site, dooce.com. I literally laughed hysterically at my desk. I worship the writer, Heather Armstrong. She’s a total badass, and a professional blogger at that. Sometimes you just need a good laugh (and other times you need a good drink, but I was at work so what was I to do?).

When I got back to Grandma’s House World, I was still feeling pretty down. So, after dinner I went for a run (exercising makes me feel better when I’m having a crap day). Ok, I realize that running right after eating is not advisable (can you say hello dinner?). I usually workout before I have dinner, however, I’m not trying to make my grandma wait to eat, so I’ve been eating dinner with her as soon as I get home. I was going to wait about an hour before I ran, but the weather person was howling about huge, scary thunderstorms coming our way. So, I reckoned, the only way to get a run in was to go right then. So I did. Mmmmm, lasagna burps.

Part of why exercising when I’m down helps is that I have a second to clear my head of all the stressful elements of the day. Usually, the space once occupied by scary-bad-stressful shit gets overtaken by completely random, weird, useless, silly, fun things. And this is good. Today while running, for whatever reason, I started thinking about some things my mother taught my sister and I.

Now, I’m not talking mother-daughter advice or anything like that. I’m talking about how my mom taught my sister and me incorrect things ON PURPOSE. Pause for reaction. Allow me to paint a picture (with words; you saw my half-assed attempts at visual art here): I’m a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed (squirrel?) college freshman English major hanging out with my newly acquired friends. As I’m getting to the bottom of the bag of chips we are all sharing, I politely ask if anyone wants the farfels at the bottom of the bag. That’s right, “farfels.” What, you ask, is a “farfel?” Well, “farfel” is a word my mother made up and taught my sister and I. Of course, I somehow made it 18-years without knowing this wasn’t a word! Farfels are the little crumbs at the bottom of the bag, or the little fuzzies that come off your socks, or the things that make you want to die on-the-spot of embarrassment. They’re just little bits of stuff, basically. But, how is it that a girl who was 18 and majoring in English (words are my thing!) could sincerely grow up to think that a word that is not a word is a word (word yo)? The answer is that my mom is sneaky and has a very silly sense of humor. Oh, and she got my dad in on it. He still says “farfel.” I just imagine my mom stepping aside every so often to laugh evilly in private at sending her kid to college armed with an arsenal of false information. (A PS- There is some argument amongst us about how the “word” farfel is spelled. The way it is presented here is my spelling. My sister insists that such a ridiculous, fake word should be spelled pharphal).

The other famous related incident happened with my sister (thank god. Not sure I could have dealt with two of these). For whatever reason, my mom thought it would be funny to teach her that ducks have three legs. Why ducks? I have no freakin’ clue. But, my sister went to preschool sincerely believing that ducks have three legs. When you’re 4 you believe the things your parents teach you! So, when my sister drew a duck with three legs in class one day, and the teacher asked her why she would do such a thing, my sister most certainly gave her the are-you-stupid? look. “Um, because ducks have three legs, you dumbass.” So, once the teacher discerned that Kathleen sincerely believed ducks to have three legs and that this was something her mom taught her, she called home to chide my mother for teaching her children things that weren’t true. Hil-ar-i-ous, no?

This duck was born in China. So my sister WAS right...

Anyways, some parents might be horrified, but I think this is incredibly funny. People need to stop taking themselves and their kids so seriously! Although, sometimes I still do wonder what else I have been doing or saying that is totally wrong…

(Hi mom!)

Also, one Grandma’s House World moment of panic today: I went to brush my teeth and the plastic cup I keep my toothbrush in had mysteriously disappeared. My toothbrush was put in another cup with MAKEUP BRUSHES (ew). I suspect I will find my cup being held hostage by the dishwasher.

RYAN'S RECOMMENDATIONS:

Listening: Back on a Joni Mitchell kick at the moment. For the Roses, and right now I'm loving "You Turn Me On, I'm a Radio." What a great track.

Reading: Chesapeake. Seriously, I'm ready to read all of Michener's books.

Working Out: As I mentioned above, I've been running, walking, etc. My exercise DVDs are all packed. Frowny face.

(Parentheses)

Whew, it has been a long, grey day (and if you’re cringing at my use of “grey” with an “e,” then stop it and just deal with it- It’s correct and I like the way it looks and it reminds me of mustard). Is it me, or has it been grey for like a whole week now?

It has been brought to my attention that I use parentheses ( ) a lot in my writing (this may or may not be true). ) I was trying to figure out why I do this, and I think I found an answer (and the answer was right under my nose)). The answer is this: I like to write in a conversational tone (ok, that may not be en(tirely clear, so let me elaborate). () I write like (I) speak. When I’m carrying on a conversation, I speak in run-on sentences ((((and constantly add asides)))). So, when I write informally ((which is the same way I speak)), in o)rder to avoid using horribly long sentences with ten commas and thirteen thoughts, I add the asides in (parentheses).(!) ((()(((((()))))((())))(()()()()()()()(((((((((((((((0))))))((()()()()()()())(()()()(0 Woo!

Here is the definition according to Karlonia.com: "Parentheses are punctuation marks that enclose supplementary material such as explanations, clarifications, or afterthoughts within the text of a sentence or paragraph. In standard English prose, an enclosed parenthetical expression provides the reader with information that is interesting to know but does not change the meaning of a sentence in which it is included."

This means I'm using them correctly (right?). (((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((

(So, if you’re ) irritated with them pop(ping up everywhere all the time, then please accept my humble apology (and then get used to them).

Look what else you can do with parentheses(!):

Hoo (?)

RYAN'S RECOMMENDATIONS:
 
Reading: I'm about 40 pages into Chesapeake by James Michener. So far the story follows a young man named Pentaquod who leaves his village and tribe and canoes down the river to The Chesapeake Bay. I feel like I'm experiencing tasting oysters and goose for the first time with him.
 
Listening: My friend Galen is performing in town tomorrow so I've been listening to his album Some Perspective again in the car. Support local music and download it or buy the CD (if you like it!)

Make...Believe

Not much to report over here in Grandma's House World today. Though, I must say, living in a gated community is so weird. Again, like another planet. Of course, I took a long walk this evening, and, in this highly-monitored environment, I still had some jerk yelling things at me from his car while I was strolling down the street. If I was Spaceman Spiff, I would have set my lazer gun to "kill-me-a-dumbass." Made me wonder how much members pay to feel "safe" in their community. Sigh. I always fantasize about coming up with the perfect response to these people, but it never seems to come out of my mouth. All this talk of Spaceman Spiff if making me wish my Calvin and Hobbes books weren't in storage.

Anyways, earlier today, my grandma told me that, if I wanted, I could put my makeup in this basket in the bathroom. And, I was like, "um, I don't actually wear makeup," and my grandma gave me the does-not-compute look and just said, "oh." So I started thinking about makeup and my lack thereof. I was trying to remember how old I was when my friends started wearing it, and I came up with 7th grade. So, the girls who started wearing makeup when they were 13 have 11 years of makeup wearing experience on me. Wow. Actually, I tried eye shadow in 7th grade for a hot minute. I remember putting a shitton of blue, green, or brown eye shadow on and then trying to get out of the house without getting crap from anyone. And  I also remember being stopped by my parents for "looking like a hooker" and then being made to wipe it off. I wanted to look that way (like a hooker) SO BADLY. When you're in 7th grade, you want to do everything everyone else is doing SO BADLY. And if you're not allowed, it's NOT FAIR! I HATE YOU! YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! And it's the end of the world as you know it. I remembering wanting "flared" jeans so badly it physically hurt. Anyways, I also once got my makeup done in New York City on my 16th birthday. Looking back at the pictures, I would say that I looked like a total clown. So, I went to a Broadway show like this:

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek!

I'm not trying to offend people who wear makeup, but I just don't get it. Why do we need to cover up our beautiful faces? And why should women, not men, be especially expected to wear it? And what the hell do 13-year-olds with babies' butts for skin need with frickin' makeup?????? Like, for seroius! A 13-year-old needs makeup like a fat kid needs a second piece of cake (yes, I'm going to hell). I also remember playing soccer in high school with this one girl who was totally obsessed with makeup. She would "do" her makeup before playing a soccer game. Um? And, rumor had it, she "did" her makeup before GOING TO SLEEP. In case someone decided to photograph her while she slept? In case there was a fire and she had to run outside (and had to look perfect)? SOMEONE EXPLAIN THIS TO ME!

Anywho, I don't wear makeup. Ever. Neither does my sister. Maybe we just have good genes? (: I really don't want to. And I don't want to "have" to like some women say they do.

Anyways, I'd love to hear from some women who do wear makeup and like it. Get the other side of things. I sincerely just don't get it!

And yes, I realize I failed Girl 101.

RYAN'S RECOMMENDATIONS:

Listening: My stepmom recommended Firecracker by The Wailin' Jennys to me. I haven't listened to it yet, but I've heard great things about the band.

Reading: Chesapeake by James Michener. Only 20 pages in, but I'm really enjoying his writing style and the first main character, Pentaquod.

Working Out: I went for a long walk today (as I mentioned above). It was mentally relaxing. If you are unable to do high impact exercise, walk walk walk.

Grandma's House World

I’m finally out of my apartment! Many thanks to my dad, stepmom, and boyfriend for all their help. Things did not, as usual, go perfectly smoothly (I’m beginning to believe that nothing ever goes perfectly smoothly, and that this is a concept someone made up to tease people). The worst thing that happened is that my pet rabbit, Coltrane, decided he would chew up my carpet ON MY FRICKIN’ LAST DAY THERE. As I started to hyperventilate, cry, and kiss my security deposit goodbye, my father swooped in to the rescue! He cut the patch of carpet Coltrane chewed into a square and measured it. He then proceeded to go into the closet where the water heater lives and cut a square of carpet in the desired size from there. He placed it on the spot, and you seriously can’t even tell something happened (Uheights Apartments, if you're reading this, I'm only kidding!). This kind of thing would never have occurred to me. Thank goodness for brave, carpet-cutting types. I’m more of a crap-oh-shit-oh-shit-why-me-why-me-what-do-I-do type when it comes to these things.

Oh, and Coltrane is going to get his balls chopped off soon. No, not as punishment for the carpet (at least not only because of the carpet…). I also told Chris he better not think about eating my carpet.


Anyways, it’s going to be an interesting few days, as I’m staying with my grandmother until the 11th when Chris and I move into our new place. My grandma just had surgery on her foot, so it’s actually good that I’m going to be here to help out. It’s just that, sometimes, this house seems like an alien planet. I seriously feel like Spaceman Spiff (anyone?) exploring a whole other world right now. Here, in Grandma’s House World, things must be clean. Ok, by clean I mean immaculately perfect. If you use a towel once, you are supposed to wash it afterwards. EVERY TIME! I think I maybe wash my towels like once every couple months. Maybe. Ok fine, I’m gross, whatever. But, I’m wondering how these Grandma’s House World towels last for more than a year or so; they get the shit beat out of them in the washer and dryer 47 times as often as my towels do. I’m surprised most of the linen closet isn’t just shreds of used-to-be-towels-and-washcloths. Sheets are washed almost as often here. I think the washer and dryer may be run 6 times a day. Any clothes are also washed as soon as they are taken off of a human and are deemed “dirty.” This means the washer has, max, five things in it (!!!!!!!!) at a time. Again, very foreign to me. I’m the girl who stuffs the washer as full as it will go after going two weeks without doing laundry. And I wonder what my grandma would say if I told her I wear jeans and bras 8-10 times before I wash them (mmmk, stop judging please)? Also, the day starts much earlier in Grandma’s House World than in Ryan’s Mid-Twenties World. Ew.

The other interesting part is that Coltrane is here in the house with me, and my grandmother has never ever had a “pet.” In fact, I think she’s pretending he’s not here so she doesn’t have to worry about it. He has to stay in his smaller cage (poor bun), but he’s adjusting just fine. Sharing a room with the bunny is not ideal, but I’m trying not to take over my grandmother’s whole house. Coltrane makes all sorts of weird noises when I’m trying to sleep, and his hay makes me sneeze a little bit.

As Grandma’s House World adventures unfold, I will be sure to share them. For now, Chris is bringing pizza over, and I refuse to share that.

Bun Behind Bars

RYAN'S RECOMMENDATIONS:

Listening: My grandma was listening to a CD featuring hit songs from 1952 today. It was actually quite entertaining!

Reading: I finished Watership Down last night. Definitely now one of my favorite novels. It's one of those books that you can't stop thinking about, even after you're finished. Now, I'm about to start Chesapeake by James Michener.

Working Out: I went for a good, old fashioned run today. I'm having a hard time getting back into a routine since I'm staying with my grandmother, but it felt good to get a jog in. If it's not too hot where you are, get your booty moving!