Edward and Me

The guy who lived and died in my house was everything I am not. He was a WWII Captain in the Army. He was a Boy Scout leader. He was an engineer. He had interests in woodworking, rock collecting and everything that had to do with the outdoors. He took meticulous care of everything he owned. Why can't I be more like him?

I found a bunch of his old papers. I had asked the son what they wanted me to do if I found anything I thought they would want. He replied in an arrogant tone, "I'm sure we got everything we need, you won't find anything interesting." Oh, okay, I guess you don't want your dad's college degree, army discharge papers, pretty much everything personal to him like his fishing and goldmine hunting records, not to mention a to-the-penny run-down of all the money he's ever loaned you (with copies of cashier's checks AND a yes or no on whether or not you ever paid him back. Bet that came out of your inheritance).... A-hole. Anyways there were a bunch of pictures of Edward, so I took a big frame and created an Edward mural.

My brother said, "Christ, what are you doing are you crazy?" I said yeah. But I want to pay homage to the man who built my house and took care of it so I can live here. This house is in better shape in many ways than any 5-yr old house in Queen Creek, I guarantee it. "You need a man," my brother said. I said yeah.

I spent all day yesterday and today cleaning out the workshop and it's still nowhere near being finished. I realized that I like tooling around there. I wish I had more tools. Too bad everybody and their cousin went in there and stole all of them out from under me. I don't think Edward approves.

The reason I have to clean this place up a little bit is because my aunt and her beau are coming for a visit! How exciting! I just can't wait to break out my old list of guest room must-haves. But first I need to clean out the workshop. And get a couch. And get the heater to work, unless the weather warms up within a couple weeks. That would save me some money which I do not have.

good thing I don't have an ego problem

because if I did, I'd probably have to get more professional help after listening to my brother's diatribe. Sigh. He means well, I guess.

He is considering allowing a certain transaction to take place, but he is of course wary of what the ramifications may be for reasons I will list below. First, the nature of the transaction: setting MH up with a friend of a friend (FoaF). Friend thinks I'd be just PERFECT for FoaF. Friend has only met me once. Brother, being a founding member of the Society for the Prevention of Unwed Sisters, is weighing the risks:
MH might start with her "femi-nazi" crap, thereby scaring off the only prospect she had, and embarrassing Brother. I'd do my best to keep my mouth full of food, and just enjoy my $500 meal. Promise!

FoaF might not understand that MH swears constantly, and is not capable of reigning it in unless The Kids are around, and even then she is guilty of slight fuck-ups when officially dog tired from being prodded, nagged, nudged, teased and basically abused for 8 hours straight. True.. What's he trying to say?! For chrissakes, Fuck that guy if I can't even swear sometimes. Who is he to judge me? He probably swears all the time too, but just doesn't want a WOMAN who swears, isn't that right?

FoaF might be too successful for MH and her "tree hugger" habits. Successful men don't like tree huggers. They want regular women, you know the ones who "take care" of themselves. I take care of myself. Why do men act like women are disgusting vessels of venerial disease unless we follow some sort of regiment of personal "hygiene" as prescribed by MEN? They all have different expectations, usually based on what type of pornography they happen to be obsessed with at the moment. After listening to my short lecture, Brother innocently shrugged his shoulders, said I'm talking like a feminazi again and all he meant was that I ought to get a haircut and maybe wear something other than X's old Carhardt work pants. That's fair, I guess. But those pants sure are handy.

Finally, FoaF might be religious. As in born-again. Would MH offend him, thereby ruining the solid friendship Brother has built with Friend, who is also born-again? Of course I would try not to offend him, but what about his offending me? I think this relationship is doomed.

Poor brother. He is so desperate to rid himself of the burden of a single MH. Life was much easier when I was married, b/c X was very handy around the house, truth be told. He even took care of Brother's house problems, leaving Brother time to coach football and meet Friend, who fancies himself somewhat of a matchmaker.

I figured out the brutal reality of dating. The golden rule. When a woman is desperate for a man, she'll do anything to get one. Or him, if it's a particular man. But if it's just any man, she will become more desperate. He can smell the desperation, and he knows he can do whatever he wants then. Because she just wants a man. Well, my problem is I just can't allow myself to be desperate. I'd rather die alone with fifty cats than fashion myself differently in order to secure a man. I do love them and admire them for the little things they do and how they act and what they are capable of. And I dream about how wonderful life is when one is around and both of us are happy and content. But I can't deny that I don't need one. So it appears to me that since I can't become desperate, I'll never have that type of happiness. I guess it's my choice?

today.

I'm so relieved that we can encapsulate our troubles into the simple term, "bad day." This morning as I awoke, my toes felt as if they weighed ten pounds. Then I realized that my forehead, which was the only part of my body unprotected by the piles of heavy blankets atop my bed, was freezing.

I listened closely for the sound of the space heater, but heard nothing but Kitty's persistent whines. Briefly, I wondered what could have happened to my main source of heat since this money pit I call a home doesn't have a working thermostat, left alone a heater that I have yet to test. I asked Kitty in the most polite way I could to shut the EFF up.

After I found my glasses, I inspected the heater. Nothing was wrong with it, except somebody (the whiner) had unplugged it during her daily morning "wake the hell up, MH" exercises, which include jumping over and under every possible object. Being 15 or 16, she misses most objects and lands on them.

I dragged myself out to the back yard, where my beautiful flowers were covered up d/t a forecasted frost. They seemed okay.

Back inside, I heard the mail drop. Great, I thought. Let's see what junk mail they have for me today. I wish I had been so lucky. Three pieces of mail greeted me: shut-off notice from gas company, shut-off notice notice from city water dept. and (yikes) overdraft notice from my worthless bank.

Shut-off notices I don't quite understand. I didn't even receive bills from them. Oh well, I thought. I can just pay them. But oh wait. An overdraft notice means I don't have any money. I don't have the internet so I had to go to Starbucks to see the damage. In the four days between the time I ran out of money and got paid, I incurred over $300 in NSF charges. Not sure how I'm going to pay my overdue bills now.

I had a dream last night that I sold my house and bought a condo because I realized I couldn't take care of a house by myself. I realized that I really did like having a dryer. I liked having heat. I didn't mind not having a garden because I don't really know how to garden anyway. I even got a new cat and there was plenty of room. Today, a friend met me at Starbucks. I didn't tell her all of my woes, but I did tell her about my dream. She laughed. "I told you to get a condo, but that house is just you." Maybe it is. Broken down and in need of major repair.

Yesterday I vowed to make sure I'd never lose that house. It means so much to me. I guess I love the house because it is part of a family lineage. It was something that a happy couple had built and raised their family in. They took care of it and loved it. Their kids lived in it happily and it was a safe haven. I thought of The Grapes of Wrath, John Steinbeck's book. I am like the Joads. I've been a wanderer my whole life. My parents never lived anywhere for long, and never fit in where they landed. Why in the world would an alcoholic man with no education move his family to Utah? In the eighties, there were probably 10 catholics in Utah, including our brood. I moved as soon as I could. I've been a gypsy ever since, never fitting in. I wouldn't even fit in where I came from, a small town in Nebraska. I'm vegetarian now.

My house represents stability and safety. And here I go, ruining it. It could be worse, though.

There is a woman here at the Starbucks. She shuffled in and after fidgiting around at her table, she borrowed a guy's cellphone, asking somebody at the other end where they were. She hung up and thanked the guy. Sat in her seat again and pulled out make-up. After her version of a touch-up, she brought out perfume and actually doused herself with it. A few minutes later, a small boy walked in by himself. He had been dropped off. The little boy sat across from her. She asked him how his day went. He didn't answer. She prodded him in her over-dramatic drunken way. The boy was used to this type of behavior. I could sense his resignation. I know how he feels. You can either cooperate and keep up the charade, or you can make your life difficult by asking them if they are drunk. The boy decided to keep up the charade and confided that some kids made fun of him at school today.

A middle eastern couple came in and sat across the room. The only person speaking was the man. Shortly, another man (middle eastern) came in and sat down too. The woman immediately got up and started browsing the sales area. She still hadn't spoken. The two men had a seemingly friendly conversation. They got up and prepared to leave. They walked out. Nobody opened the door for the woman, she just followed them.

It could all be worse, I guess.

I like to focus on what I ** have ** finished

Because I do not have time to think about what I have not.

The counter top is finished. It only took me about a month or so. Don't ever use a Dremel to dig grout out of an old tile counter top. It will ruin the tiles if you make one false move! With the amount of money I've spent on little do-dads and chemicals, I probably could have trashed the whole kitchen and went with granite. Ok that's a bit of an exaggerration. But anyway, it's done, except I have to put caulk in the corners or pretty much anywhere water might splash. The sink is about 8" deep, good for nothing much more than rinsing a tomato, so there will likely be water splashing everywhere as soon as I get up the courage to use the sink...

I have a big old metal cabinet from the forties. By myself, I was somehow able to Macguyver it out the kitchen to the patio, where I sanded and painted it. It was all rusty. Over three days I worked on it. Nobody stole it out of my yard while I was at work, I guess they must have thought it was a piece of scrap metal. Finally I finished it! Well, I used up all the paint I had bought. It's not pristine by any stretch. But I Macguyvered it back in and tonight I have been happily outfitting the old beauty with assorted vintage kitchen goodies. The glass doors are still missing but they'll turn up someday.

I wish I knew the names of some of the flowers that are blooming in my yard. They are darling. One type looks like little yellow bells, very delicate.

The oranges are falling off the trees by the pound. They are going bad quickly. But the other day I tried one and it was actually sweet and such a delight. Grapefruit is still looking good and they continue to grow bigger.

Online dating. Is it worth the money?

My friend recently bought a subscription to what I contend is an overpriced online dating site. GIMO is still utilizing his subscription at the OTHER site, and we all discussed the differences. I tried my best to prove that these sites are highway robbery and should not be patronized in the least. They, being ardent believers in the power of these matching services, tried equally hard to convince me to give one of the sites a try. Here we go again. Everybody feels sorry for MH because she's alone, but nobody ever asks her if she's happy to be alone. Because why the hell would a woman be happy alone, huh? We have no use to anybody if we aren't servicing a man with sex or rearing a child. We can't possibly lead a fulfilling life.

Anyway. Friend is having the time of her life with her new hobby. She chatters nonstop about the "electrician," "engineer," "retired businessman," and "contractor." They each have special attributes ( as in big house, nice car, grown-up kids, etc), but of course there are the trade-offs. Some have "a few extra pounds" while others just don't know how to dress or wear a mullet. GIMO is now seeing a special someone, who he met through his site, but he still keeps his options open. He describes his prospects as, "blond with nice body," "blond with glasses," "brunette with nice ass but has a kid," and "blond with big nose but good job."

I observed, to their vehement disagreement, that online dating seems to be more like ordering something off of amazon. All we have to do is place a value on our desired characteristics, search for them, and out pops our order. It seems shallow, but I guess it is done all the time in other ways. I guess it's just like a bar, only sometimes you have to spend a minute or two talking to someone before you find out they are unfit to date. I can't say that I think it's the absolute worst thing to do. I like making pro/con lists and wtf better do some of us single, ALONE people have to do anyway? Still, I'm not interested in paying for it all.

But then later on, I attended a training class, in which I was seated next to a guy I found to be very cute. I know he wouldn't look good on a profile because he makes the same amount I do and he wears glasses. But he was still cute and I'd go out with him. I thought about making conversation with him, but as usual, opted to doodle when not busy listening to a My Wonderful Kid's Progress update from a co-worker I hardly ever see anymore.

I guess anything's worth a try if you honestly want to try it.

Don't forget to celebrate the birthday of Alice Paul January 11th

One of the most prolific suffragists in history, Alice Paul is a hero to those who refuse to give up. Sadly, she is yet another important figure whose existence is left in the wake of WWI's eclipsing brawn. Yet for some of us, her work made much more of an impact than the War.

Living in a (de)construction zone

I have never EVER been so happy.





Yesterday I attended a birthday party for a good friend. I knew only a few other guests, and it was the first time I had a chance to talk with strangers about being a homeowner. I always knew that homeowners belonged to their own very dintinguished little club, but never realized how nice it is to belong myself! Somehow, people are acting like I'm a regular person rather than some slacker. I still ACT like a slacker. I'm still a slacker. But people don't treat me like I am. When I was asked, "So are you all moved in?" Of course I responded that it had only been a month and I didn't foresee being settled for at least six more. I received reassuring gestures like smiles accompanied wiht knowing nods. Unlike when I moved into my last apartment. But then again, I never did really get moved in at that place.





Also hindering the House's metamorphisis into the picture of Donna Reed Bliss is the fact that I took on a few messy projects all at the same time. That's just more evidence of my many nagging character defects, one of which is procrastination and another happens to be not finishing what I start.

So I have a floor which has been layed (by my good brother), but without trim since it is something I'm supposed to do. I have a kitchen counter which has been regrouted but not sealed. A fly on the wall of any one of the bedrooms would assume that the dozens of stacked boxes of books are merely the human's odd taste in furniture. It would be correct, because this human hasn't any bookcases. I haven't had any since I got rid of my cinder-block and old board thing 10 years ago. Mostly I have just stacked my hundreds and hundreds of books as high as possible along the walls of closets.





A friend brought over the nicest gift a few days ago. Some beautiful planters and shoots from a tree in her yard! How exciting! The first pretty, finished thing around here! I had to take a picture. I included in the clump of perfection is a little cast-iron frog that I found buried in a corner of the workshop. Mr Frog likes to be where he can be seen and admired, doesn't he?





Kitty has been allowing herself a marvelous time. She struts around the yard like it's been her turf for years. She doesn't bother to listen to me anymore. Ah, Kitty. Too cool for her own good.

New Life

Although internet is a luxury not afforded to this new homeowner, my brother was kind enough to loan me one of his old laptops with a wireless card in order for me to update. But now I realize that it's hardly possible to update if I don't have access to my catalog of pictures and also those which I've taken since moving....





Unfortunately, I did not get the promotion that I expected. That means I'll be applying for a part-time job somewhere. I'm considering finding work at one of those warehouse hardware places, whichever one gives discounts. Maybe I'll be able to find somebody to update my electrical wiring while I'm at it!





excerpts from my paper diary:


12/7:


Yesterday I spent all day putting things where they belong, cleaning, and solving problems. I washed four loads of laundry and the lack of a dryer is still serving as an entertaining novelty, so hanging everything on the lines was actually fun. Now I know why we are all overweight nowadays- our appliances do all the hard work. But, as I've been saying all too frequently, "What was good enough for Seller is good enough for me" because I absolutely love having my own house! It's still most unbelievable. Today I finally started filling up the kitchen cupboards up with my VAST quantities of glass/pottery ware/silver/whatever. It was HEAVEN. I'll probably spend what amounts to weeks rearranging it all, but... Kitty's the only one who will know. And she doesn't give a crap what I do because she is absorbed in the finer aspects of bird watching, the art of yard escapism, and grass-rolling. He has also acquired an interest in eating, now that after 15 years, SOMEBODY finally broke down and started getting her canned food. She doesn't whine nearly as much , so it guess it pleases both of us.





My little bathroom is the most wonderful ever. I have everything just where I need it, and it's SO me! The kitchen is getting there. Someday the rest of the house will be nice too. I have the baseboards in the living/dining room to finish, furniture to arrange, and pictures to hang. Pretty much everything. It looks like I'm camping. I need help. Nobody ever taught me how to move with grace....





12/12:


It's been so easy to adjust to life in this house. There are less conveniences in some ways, but nothing beats pulling into my own driveway at the end of the day. Many things have gone unexpectedly wrong, but so much more COULD have. Time to count my blessings?


I'm also so glad that I'm NOT in a relationship, even though having a man around to do some of this crap that men usually do has been a challenge. But I've decided that in relationships, men ALWAYS have the upper hand, because we always have to make sure we are sexually appealing to them. Well I know the way I am, I'm not sexually appealing 24/7 and I don't want to go back to trying to achieve the impossible. Maybe I wasn't meant to be in a relationship.



It gets boring writing about one's imperfections after doing so a few thousand times.



Why do men expect us to be perfect when we are NOT? Why is it that we are the only animal which demands that the FEMALE impress the MALE? Boy we really got the shitty end of the deal, didn't we? We have to make ourselves perfect, yet we still have to suffer from the effects of childbirth, rearing children and taking care of a household. We get fat, lose control of our bladder and our partners cheat on us because we've dedicated our lives to our partner, yet we continue to wax those legs and allow.... ad nausea....





I think I must have been depressed that day.......



12/14

Today. Bought a Dremel attachment kit and a grout grinder attachment, which I may return. Spent the rest of the day trying to repair the sink area in the kitchen. Grout has been falling out of the tiles for years and now everything is corroded and worst of all, the sink, which is cast iron with porcelain, has started to rust at the top, all around. Very messy!Q I dug out as much as I could, then sprayed a rust-stopper product. Dug out as much grout as I could, until my hand was too weak to continue and the Dremel pooped out. Tomorrow I want to b e able to grout in but I don't think it will be possible, given that I have to work 12 hrs, go to a graduation/christmas party and then work 12 more hours. Sigh. Brother said he *might* come over and hook up my sot vie for me this week. We'll see. If he doesn't, I'll have to just figure out how to do it myself. Reminds me.... Daily Cleaning... (True Value Household Encyclopedia) 1973

"Consists chiefly of dusting. In the bedroom, beds, which have been airing while the family is at breakfast, are made first. Then in all rooms, inside sills may be dusted, then furniture, wood floors, and finally rugs are cleaned. If a broom is used, upholstered furniture is brushed first and covered, then rugs swept, and finally floors, woodwork, and furniture dusted.....

Weekly cleaning- same except more thorough...pictures and mirrors, light bulbs and lighting fixtures, closet doors, backs of furniture, and window shades and baseboards... mattresses turned side for side one week and end for end the next."



12/20 (more complaining about men, especially GIMO)

... I said to my other co-workers, "Geez! Why does he always have to bother ME?" One person (his closest friend in the office) said, "Maybe he wants to date you." I laughed it off because he's such and asshole! Plus he's dating someone from one of those match websites. You know, I think he should just be friendly all the time and none of us would waste our time speculating. But it isn't like I'd want him anyway, I think he judges women too harshly and I don't think it would be worth shaving my left all the time, just to be judged by HIM, then rejected eventually. Actually, I have no intention of dating ANYONE who doesn't make it past that first cost/benefit analysis.
Sacrifices just for HIM:
Shave my legs every day?!
Increase in showers and water usage, therefore wasting my time and money on water and gas for the water heater.
I'd have to meet new people who I probably wouldn't like.
Probably cost me money which I don't have!
Other emotional risks associated with his wandering eye.

No thanks!
What possible benefit could I glean from dating some bratty, selfish man??? Eh, maybe he'd help with the house projects. He'd have to be REAL handy, that's all I can say.

Anyhow, I'm still working on the tile in the kitchen counter top. It's been almost two weeks! Part of the problem has been the tools. I didn't buy the right kind. Beyond that, I am not skilled in DIY, so the going has been slow. But I have half of the grouting finished, I just might finish it today! Then on to the next project. One of my old metal cabinets. It's REALLY rusting out on the bottom and I'll be damned if I'm going to junk it without a fight.

12/27
My, but I do lead a solitary life all of a sudden. Last week (I think it was), some brilliant asshole at PRI decided to use their radio time to produce a show themed Being Alone. Perfect timing, fuckers. They just HAD to tell these pathetic tales of hermits like me. or what I could become. One was from this guy who went to a home of a recently deceased woman who, of course, died ALONE with animals and piles of junk all over her musty old house. Have pity on us! Quit rubbing our anti-social tendencies in our faces! Eh, it bothered me but I'm doing this thing lately in which I pretend something doesn't bother me in the least. and I end up not even thinking about it again! It's magical!

So Christmas came and went, that grand old holiday. I worked the whole time, thank God. I had nothing else to do anyway. Brother went to Disneyland and took his whole brood. I was too broke to travel Up North to see friends and family from days of yore, and of course having to spend more than 5 minutes alone with the Grand Duchess would have produced urges to plunge a knife deep into my chest, so I just spent Christmas with OTHER annoying people. I didn't even have anything to complain about. At least I wasn't being torn from my children at that special time, when all parents rejoice in the adorable selfishness of their children.

A girl in my office ordered a rubber bracelet that she is supposed to use to help her quit complaining. Every time you complain, you take it off and move it to the other wrist. I said, "how do you expect we'll ever change the world if nobody complains?" I honestly have no idea why she thinks complaints are bad.