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.

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.

I have a key from 1949

And it unlocks my front door.

I simply cannot believe it. I have a door. Several doors. I have a hot water heater. I have built-in shelves, they are mine. I have flagstone on MY back patio! Of course I could go on and on. I also have dangerous wiring and threadbare carpeting from 1949.

But I must say, I love it all. Every little piece of asbestos, because it's mine. Say what you will, but that asbestos floor tile has character.One of the bedrooms has a cement floor, but it's been treated somehow. It's been stained and sealed and it actually looks pretty good. If I thought I could achieve the same results with whatever is beneath that carpeting, I'd give it a try. Probably cheaper than hard wood or bamboo. Definitely looks better than vinyl, which is likely too pricey for me anyway.

I roamed the house in a dazed state after the Realtor departed. Turning lights on and off, inspecting closet shelves, admiring the old light fixtures. I commented to my friend, "Look at this medicine cabinet! Now THIS is AUTHENTIC!" She snorted. "Yeah, it's old. You can't even see yourself in the mirror, the reflective stuff is missing." Well so. It's old, what do we expect? When Friend had seen enough and left for her own $500,000 late eighties nightmare, I was free to indulge in more euphoric fantasies with no disturbances.

Tomorrow the home warranty people are coming over to take pictures. I'm not sure that buying a home warranty will be worth it if these people already know what shape my appliances are in. Oh well. Maybe the electricity will be shut off so they can't test anything out.

When I got back to my apartment, I started packing again. I detest moving. But I keep reminding myself that I may never have to move again!

It's Yours

I know only a handful of people take a minute each day to check out my uneventful life. And I thank you. And I do wonder about you and your lives.

But, on to the newest development in my quest for something.

I received a call from the escrow or title person this morning. "I didn't see ______ paper, explaining _____ so I need you to sign and fax back to me. Don't worry, everything is recorded."

Recorded? That must mean it is official.

Congratulations. That's what the title lady said. "I could see you being on one of those HGTV shows. It would be the perfect house. They take $500 and do the most amazing things."

I need much more than $500, that's for sure.

Seller called me several times this morning. I'll tell you all about her later. But she is the neatest lady. Leaving some stuff for me like the lawn mower and some tools and some quilting fabric. Seller is the cutest little old lady EVER. She is super talented. She has been in a garden club for 60 YEARS and she is leaving all of her bulbs to ME! I told my aunt. She is coming down to make sure I know what to do with them.

She called me three times today. First, to thank me for the card. I brought one to the closing thinking she woud be there, but gave it to the title lady when I found out Seller was at home. Titlelady gave the card to her. Seller is finally getting excited to move into her new apartment, where she will probably have a dishwasher and lots of friends. She doesn't need that lawnmower, and wanted me to know that I don't need to get one. She is the sweetest. In my note to her, I said that if she ever wanted to come back to the house, she just needs to let me know. I'll come and pick her up! Because she is the cutest little old lady in the world. What do we think of when we think of an old lady? We think of someone who gardens, quilts, cans, sews, crochets and bakes, right? Right.

Well, Seller is all that and more. I truly respect her as a woman. She raised her children and took care of her husband. She maintained that house until her kids forced her out. And you know what? I'm going to invite her right back in.

Papers signed. Is that it?

I said to my broker this morning, "So what's next?"
"Move."
"But I only signed my name about 50 times. Aren't there any more papers or notices solidifying the case that this whole thing is all my fault and nobody else's?"
"Nope. You just start moving in."


It's not as simple as all that. Seller can't move for another week. I haven't even given the landlord notice because you just never know what can happen.

Wow. Homeowner. MH. My poor little old brain has been working overtime. Not only are there the normal things to think about, it also has to contemplate such important thoughts such as, "Can Kitty walk on the asbestos flooring?" or "What color should I paint the kitchen cabinets?" When it ought to be pondering questions like, "How am I going to pay this f-ing mortgage?" and "Do I really NEED gas, electricity and water?"

First thing I did was call my brother. "You are talking to a HOMEOWNER," I bragged.
"Hey that's great MH. Are you done? My truck is in the shop and I'm tired of sitting around here."
"Good, I'll come pick you up and we can go to IKEA."
"Do you REALLY think this is a good time to be spending any money?"
"I'm only going to look!"
"Yeah right."

Later, on my way to play Scrabble I called my sister. "You are talking to a HOMEOWNER," I chirped.
"Oh, nothing, having a beer with Amber. I got off early today and I decided I wanted a beer so here I am, I don't care what anybody says."
"SISTER. I didn't ASK you what you were DOING. I SAID I'm a HOMEOWNER."
"Oh. Good. Did you work today?"
"No. I signed papers all day. And packed stuff up to MOVE."
"Oh. I have worked for almost 7 days STRAIGHT! I'm butt-ass tired, you know?"
Sigh.

SOME people were happy for me. Dang! I've spent my whole adult life acting like I give a crap when all of these assholes get houses, cars, babies, married, divorced, or operated on. Is it too much to ask to get a little bit of that back? I don't expect anyone to ACTUALLY CARE, just pretend as much. Sheesh!

Getting ready for the big move

I guess I was wrong, we aren't closing until next week. Sigh.

But I've been busy sorting. Yesterday I loaded up the car with items and donated them to the ASPCA Thrift Store.

It felt wonderful to get rid of some of this crap I've been hanging on to for no good reason. Mostly clothes I know I'll never wear again, due to my advanced age and decreased motivation to get off my buns. At long last, I liberated myself of those damn wedding dresses that have stubbornly held some quixotic sentimentality lurking in the depths of my psyche. But the new MH, pragmatic in all thoughts and behaviors, took one look at the big old box yesterday and heaved it right into the trunk of my little economy car. And dragging it in to the thrift shop was nothing more than a task checked off my list of things to get done.

I welcome more days like yesterday.

My new kitchen

As soon as I close on my new house! If I didn't have to work so early in the morning, I'd love to talk about this whole process of buying a home. But It's not over yet. We close next week. Then a week later, I'll be moving.

The current owner is the sweetest old lady ever, and she let me come over to take a picture of the kitchen. My first project will be restoring the tile. X taught me how to do that, but honestly, it's easier than making a cake from a box.

I'm OK?

My last session with Marty the therapist was- the last session. He told me that I'm on the right track, and if I should ever need to talk about any issues, he'll always be around.

I'm glad because to be honest I was starting to think Marty gets all of his material from outdated self-help books. I had to read The Power of Now and then he started with I'm Ok You're Ok. I didn't have the heart to tell him that I read that thing eons ago. My mom had bought it but acted guilty every time anyone saw her reading it. By 10, my reading skills were advanced since I'd already been sneaking VC Andrews and Stephen King books for years.

I thought IOYO was some sort of pornographic sex how-to manual that was meant only for
adults so I couldn't WAIT until it ended up in cardboard box underneath the basement stairs so I could get my hands on it. That's where all her Harlequins went, eventually. Then the basement would flood and the hundreds of Harlequins would get ruined, no big loss. Anyway. I found it under the basement stairs and devoured the darned thing before I learned that there was NOTHING interesting about that book. NOTHING. Then I started acting like I was OK but my parents were not OK. I've been acting like the parent ever since. That seems to be my role, I guess. Of course, Harris is a popular subject for a day in sophomore PSYCH class lecutres, and I got to learn how he came up with his goods.

Marty's point the other day was that I'm ALWAYS in the parent role. I told him about X and how he never talked to me like he talks to his new PetName. Marty said, "Well, can you picture someone talking to their mother like that? Because that's what you were. When was the last time you acted like anything other than a parent?" Fine. I get it.

Then I told Marty my good news and how excited it was to finally, maybe be able to have my own house again. I told him how I used to drink my first cup of coffee every morning, walking around my back yard, inspecting all of my flowers and my garden. I told him how I used to make a cake from scratch at least once every week. How I enjoyed cleaning my house, decorating, painting, and taking care of it.

And I have not felt anywhere near such happiness since the day I moved. Three years ago next week. I told Marty that I feel like the old me. Just knowing that I can buy a house if I want to has rejuvenated me. Marty said that there I go again, not thinking about having fun. I'm thinking about getting a house so I can create more work and put more pressure on myself. I want to "mother" a house since I am no longer married.

He really missed the mark there, because he's so wrong. I used that house as a play house almost, because I didn't have a home like that growing up. I created my own world to be a kid in. I don't know what I will do when I settle in a new house. Hopefully I've grown in ways that I didn't expect. But for now, I'm so glad to be able to see. Marty is great, but he just doesn't get it this time. Oh well, can't win 'em all, Marty! You're still ok!

Bigger and... and BETTER things!

For all involved. X wanted - what he wanted, I still don't know what that was, but it certainly wasn't me. Move on, MH.


So I've moved on to what I want. I want a house of my own!

I called a mortgage place yesterday to see how many decades it will be before I will actually be able to buy a home on a FIXED rate. And surprise! When they called me back I was tentatively approved for over TWICE what I thought I would ever be able to spend. This is thanks to all the raises I've been getting lately I guess. Plus my credit hasn't been completely wrecked by the divorce. Wow. Do I deserve a stroke of good luck? Crap, I know I just jinxed myself with that last sentence.

So now the search is on for a new home. I took some time while not being able to sleep last night to write down my must-haves:

• AT LEAST washer/dryer hook-ups. No more coin-op or take-out laundry for MH! Yay!
• Area for a dog to run and play. Grassy area. So I can have a dog. Plus I need at least a container garden.
  
• BIG kitchen (or at least room to enlarge kitchen) because I have three awesome metal cabinets from the forties that NEED to stay in the kitchen.

IF it's a condo or townhouse:

• Lots of storage
• Two bedroom w/ at least 1.75 baths
• Private outside area for my morning coffee
• LOW HOA
• Nice neighborhood to preserve my morning run.

IF it's a house:

• It CANNOT be newer than 1960 (unless I just go with brand new, which I doubt)
• Fence
• Two baths or room to grow
• Original kitchen and maybe baths
• Must not add up to more than I can afford INCLUDING extras

What I will need to buy: I need a couch. I have not had a couch for three years.

I want to buy a Murphy bed for the guest room/space so I can also use it as a sewing room and office. There is an awesome Murphy bed that has a desk top on the outside, which gently floats down when you pull the bed down. It probably costs around $3 grand though. I could frickin' make my own for that kind of money! But that's what I want.

I NEED to get a new bed. The last time I had a brand new bed, it was when my parents bought me a daybed when I moved out. That was, let's see, 17 years ago! I slept on the daybed for 10 years. Then I bought an old full-sized bed from craigslist for $40. It is from the fifties. I don't recommend sleeping on a mattress from the fifties, even if it is from SEARS. When my sister came to visit, I broke out the air mattress for her. It's a queen size! She raved about how comfortable it is "for an air mattress." After she left, I thought it would be fun to try it out and I have been sleeping on it ever since. It's SO much nicer than that crappy old thing. So I need a new bed. I might upgrade to a queen size too. Not sure.

That's really all. Except for appliances if the "new" place doesn't have them. But I sincerely hope it does. I want AUTHENTIC appliances. I want the counter-top RANGE and the WALL oven.

I think I'll copy most of this post to my other blog and try to keep all of this boring house crap over there.