Smells Like (Gr)Ass.

So, before, my life was consumed with sleeping, working and going to the Y. I have a new responsibility. Home ownership. Pretty sure I wasn’t aware there was this much work. I mean, really, people. I could do house stuff every damn day if I wanted to — that’s how much there is. Eric and I make a list of things we need or what we need to do — and just as fast as we cross everything off that list… magically, a new list pops up. Usually, it’s longer and more long-term than the first. It almost stresses me out — but good thing I love lists. Really. I love them. The process of crossing things off gives me great joy. Call me weird. It’s cool. I mean, I just looked up at our counter, and I seriously have 5 lists. Good thing I have a lot of paper laying around here. Ha. I digress. I love the house, though. Everything Eric and I do is fun and definitely adding to the house. It’s becoming our own and I still can’t believe all this crap happened. (I call it crap in the most loving way.) All the little things still bring me joy — like bringing the trash can up, cleaning the kitchen floor…

OMG!! I totally buried the lead here.

We bought window treatments. Holy man. How exciting. (Again, the small things.) Pictures to follow. You don’t even know how great this is. I pee myself a little thinking about it! No more tarps!! Those blinds couldn’t come soon enough, let me tell you. As much as I like the blue/brown tarp look…

Alright — so, the point of this post — to talk about the first Grass Cutting at Hotel Smithenreiter. It was the day after it rained like 62 inches — so, we Eric could only cut part of the front yard — but squeeeee!! It was -23 degrees… and Eric was a champ. Of course, instead of helping him, I grabbed my camera and started snapping pictures. Obviously to share with all of you. Enjoy. I’m also including some other pictures. One of a cactus growing in our front yard — and two beds of stuff that’s coming up. I really have no idea what they are, though. Tulips, maybe? I’m no greenthumb, that’s for sure. Guess I’ll learn.

Who Knew?!

So, how often do you grab that box of Saran Wrap, try and pull a piece off – and the roll comes right out?! Then, you’re stuck trying to get that roll back into the box, all while the flapping piece of Saran Wrap is folding over itself and making a hot mess of the situation.

And, apparently I’m an idiot. I JUST realized, after how many damn years of using the stuff, that there are cardboard flaps on each side of the roll, on the outside of the box — that you can push in, to keep that roll from coming out during usage.

Please note, incase you, like myself, am a complete moron.

Yeah, that’s right, see that little blue circle… just push that baby in.

Did everyone else know about this? Sheesh.

I think I’m just gonna wrap everything in Saran now. Just because. At least now the roll won’t pop out.

I win.

525,600 minutes.

So, I’ve never seen “Rent,” but I’m pretty sure that’s the first line of that song about “measuring things in love.” Too bad that love has nothing to do with this blog… and everything to do with the amount of time it’s been since I actually posted. I think the last time we talked I was about to jump off the Hoan Bridge. It’s honestly been a pretty trying two months for me. Eric and I rode quite the emotional rollercoaster and hot damn if I’m not elated that we got off before I threw up all over his lap.

Let’s back it up quick. I won’t take long, Lord know I don’t want to live through it again either. So, yeah, we were supposed to close on March 12th… then March 17th, then March 19th — and finally March 27th. Well, let me tell you. NONE of those closing dates happened. The first three got pushed because the lenders were being douche-bags (sorry, Kim.) — I know they’re trying to protect their own asses — but really. There’s a crack in our basement they were concerned about — and rightfully so — but when they said our first AND second inspectors weren’t “good enough.” Frak.

I’ll set the scene: It’s March 26th. Eric is in Florida. The T-Ville apartment is packed up. Really. Packed. Up. No plates, no silverware, hardly enough toilet paper. Eric keeps telling me the closing for tomorrow (the 27th) is good, it’s a go, we can relax. Hardly. I wake up March 27th. Feeling good, ready for a weekend of moving. Oh yeah, we had the moving truck all set up for Saturday, the 28th. Minor detail. Eric’s parents show up at the apartment, ready to make the trek to West Bend for the closing. Then, Eric calls. 2 hours before we’re supposed to sign some damn papers. “Uhhh, there’s a problem with the paperwork. The seller says he never agreed to closing costs…” So, obviously, I’m hysterical at this point. I really couldn’t take another anything from this whole house deal. I was about ready to break. “Don’t worry, this will get cleared up, they know we are going home with the keys this afternoon,” Eric says. Fine. We still go out to WB, and sit at a bank… for two hours. Needless to say, the paperwork got caught up in Colorado or Texas… or in some bitch’s hands who didn’t get a crap about two late 20-somethings who WEREN’T going to have a home in four days. That’s when the thought of homelessness really crossed my mind. Sure, we’ve got parents within driving distance and friends, but still. Where the hell would I forward my mail? Uhh, the 3rd box on the left, please. Let me tell you. I was treated for depression after my Dad died — and I’m pretty sure what I was feeling during all this… was another bout of it. I kept telling myself that things will get better… we’ll get the house, someday… it just wasn’t happening soon enough.

Ok, so, no dice on the 27th. Eric is driving home from Florida, I’m moving everything we own out of our apartment and into a Penske truck. The other 1/3 of the crap is sitting in our garage. On a tarp. Sweet. Now, we wait. Monday rolls around, no phone call from Betty, the agent. Tuesday, we gotta be out of the apartment. Penske truck is still sitting in the parking lot and garage is still full of our stuff. Eric and I stay with our respective parents — and each commute an hour to work. Oh, and an hour back. Finally. Wednesday, April 1st. Fitting, no? Eric gets a call mid-afternoon. The paperwork is in and signed. The house is ours. Honestly, when Eric called, it was the funniest conversation (well, funny-not-funny.) because I thought it was an April Fool’s joke — and when it wasn’t — we were both so “eh” about the whole thing, that I think we were just glad that part was over. Neither of us really excited…it was pretty anticlimatic.

Alright, fast foward… we move things in, appliances come, plumber fixes some stuff. Bam. We live in a house. How friggin’ exciting. Now that we’re here, it’s still pretty unbelievable. We damn-near stole this house. I laugh inside, because we live in a nice neighborhood — and our neighbs look at us like, “what the hell are these kids doing in this house.” Luck of the draw, I suppose. We fell on something that was pretty much too good to be true.

So, with that stressful story (seriously, aren’t you taking a big sigh right now? because I just did.) behind us. Let’s take a quick tour. (Kim, this doesn’t excuse you from not coming out here… it’s way better in person )

Here it is. Hotel Smithenreiter. In all its glory. The garage is on the right. That front window that juts out, is the master bath. The two windows to the left of that is the master bedroom.

Ok, here’s a closeup of that window. See the blue tarps? Yeah, we don’t have any window treatments yet. The lady who lived here before us, took them all with her. Hey, thanks. So, as we do research on what we want. We deal with tarps. The house went from a foreclosure — to a drug house. Sure the neighbors are pleased. We are. Ha.

Here’s a different view of the front. We have a three-car garage. For a third car we don’t own. Maybe we can rent out that third stall. Any takers?

Here’s a look from the side of the living room. You’re looking at the kitchen. See the odd heights of the cabinets. Those shelves in the cabinets are high. Yeah, I’m short. I need a step-stool to reach them.

Here’s the view from the kitchen. That room past the living room is a den/office. Eventually, I’d like to put up French doors. Like the tarps? Weeee!!

Some couples have babies or dogs or big plants. See these two pieces of stainless steel greatness? This is our pride and joy. Look at them. They are beautiful. We love them. And may or may not have hugged them after they were installed. Ha.

Ok, here’s the first bedroom. In the pic on the left, I’m standing in the corner — the door is to my left. Then, the pic on the right shows the first vanity — the two bedroom share a tub/toilet — but each have their own vanity. It’s called a “jack and jill” bathroom — but I’ve never seen it set up this way. Either way, fun, huh? Notice there isn’t a mirror? Yeah, lady took those too. Ha.

Alright, here’s the second bedroom & vanity… pic on the right is the tub and toilet the bedrooms share. This is currently “Eric’s bathroom.” He left me the master. Or should I say, wants his own bathroom space. I didn’t argue.

My other pride and joy. The first-floor washer and dryer. Energy efficient and lovely. I would do laundry everyday if I could. Oh, and if it meant that Eric wouldn’t think I had lost my marbles.

AHHH!! Sorry, that pic on the left just startled me. That’s the master bedroom. Yup, that’s an orange hideous wall. I don’t know what kind of decorating sense the lady before us had… but whatever it was, was glued to that wall. I’m pretty sure it was some sort of wod paneling. Either way, she riped it all down, leaving us with that. Blech. At least no one sees it but us. The pic on the right is the master bathroom. Squee! Whirlpool tub. Delish.

And finally, a look from our patio door. That’s half of our backyard. And a nice concrete slab. Just big enough for a couple of chairs and a table.

I left out pics of the basement. It’s big and undone and cold. That’s all you need to know. Plus, I have to leave something to the imagination. Ha. Give you all a reason to come over for a night of fun. I’ll cook and we’ll drink and it will be glorious.

Alright, sorry it’s been the better part of a year since I posted. Hope this satisfies you… for now, at least

More pics to come. Maybe once we get some damn blinds.

Housekeeping.

And hi. Just a few things to take care of before starting another post.

1. Boston! Good to hear from you! Thought you fell off the face of the Earth, or at least the East Coast. Either way, fun you’ve found thing I call my “blog.” Hope you enjoy it… at least once in a while. And yes, I completely stole that “what I should have said was nothing” line from Mike Berbiglia. He is hilarious. His dry humor makes me laugh my tail off. I strive to be just as funny. I usually fail. But I try, and isn’t that worth anything these days?! Anyway, glad you’ve made your way here.

2. Kristin W. (The artist formally known as Turner): Why, hello! Good to hear from you, as well. It’s funny how Kim is the tie that binds here. It’s fun. Thanks for reading. Hope all is well with you. I’m sure you’re on Facebook — which I don’t do… my apologies.

Which brings me to 3. I’m tellin’ ya, WordPress is the new Facebook. If all the people I went to H.S. with would just come to my blog site and posted comments and such — then I wouldn’t ever have to join FB. I’m sure it’ll never happen, but I’m just sayin’.

4. Eric and I close on The House on Tuesday. Oh buddy. Hello St. Patty’s Day. A green beer and keys to a house. Sounds most excellent, no?

5. Speaking of St. Patty’s Day — my overnight schedule, while usually  horrific, is panning out in my favor. Tuesday, I will start drinking early. And by early, I mean 7 a.m. I win. Bad news, after a drink or two — I’ll probably pass out on the table because I’ll be so damn tired. Hopefully I’ll wake up by the time we close on that House. Ha. I’ll take pictures of Tuesday’s drinking escapades. No worries. Um, by the way — if you want to see what I’ll be wearing — http://www.kohls.com/upgrade/webstore/zoom_popup.jsp?productId=845524892472330  (if I knew how to make that a link in this damn post, I would, trust me. Sorry I’m an idiot.)

6. I’m still holding to my Lenten promise. I gave up sweets, which is like giving up breathing for me. Sweet Mary, I have such a, well, sweet tooth. It’s been hard. Reeeal hard. I guess that’s the whole point, huh? Either way, I’m counting down the minutes until I can sink my teeth into a glorious Cadbury Bunny Egg.

7. Dear Kohls, thank you for making a clearance section. I don’t care if you always “have a sale going on” or if it always “looks like I’m getting a steal” — your marketing works on me. I had a wonderful trip to your store today. I gotta keep up my “Kohls VIP” status somehow, right? Too bad that’s the only “VIP” club I’ll ever be a part of. I hate ending sentences in propositions — but that one just seemed right.

There’s Always Something…

So, to add to the stress Hotel Smithenreiter is already under — here’s another log on the fire…

Closing date got pushed back. Boo urns. Apparently on the second offer, the listing agent changed the closing date… PSYCH! And we didn’t know about it until earlier this week. Frak. Well, I guess it’s not sooo bad. But when we close the 17th (of this month), have to move big stuff Thursday/Friday… then Eric leaves on a guys’ trip to FL that same Friday… and he’s gone until the 29th — yeah, yikes! But it’s cool, I like *cough* moving. Really, though… I can’t think of anything else I dislike more than packing. Maybe unpacking. Yeah, that blows, too. Good news though, we’re gaining some square footage, so there will even more places to put all my crap. Excellent.

I started, finally, packing last weekend. I woke up Sunday morning and said to Eric, “ok, I don’t care what you do, but I’m going to start packing up the spare bedroom.” Eric responds, “ok, I’ll pack a box.” I say, “A box? You know how little you actually get into A box…? That will take you a whole 7 minutes. Thank you for your effort.” Hell, I’m thinking, at this rate, we’ll have it all packed up by November. Thankfully, he did more than just A box. And I’ve even moved on to the downstairs. I hate this “boxes everywhere, disheveled” feeling. I’m ready for March to be over… and April to be here. It’s time to get the moving show on the road.

We finalized all our applicances last weekend… signed, sealed… and delivered the week we move in. Gosh darn those suckers are expensive. A fridge, range, and a washer/dryer. We kept telling ourselves “these are investments… we want them to be nice.” Sure. Well, when our kids can’t go to college, because we’re paying off a stainless steel range… you can explain what happened to our money. But, we ended up going with a stainless fridge and range. They’re gorgeous. I may just live in the fridge. Rarr. You’ll like them too, I promise.

Alright, that’s enough house-ramblings for now. I’m trying not to lose my head. Please, Lord, just let me get through this month without ripping someone else’s off. Thanks.

Holy Margarita.

Have you been outside the last few days? Oh man. I didn’t even wear my gloves to work last night — that’s how warm it was. Living on the edge, I know.

I even knew Spring was coming, when I got in my car after working out and saw a ladybug on my windshield. Granted, I hate those ladybugs, they make me shudder… especially when they’re in large quantity — but I was so excited about it, I didn’t even hit my wipers to knock it off, or drive faster so it just flew off.

Too bad it’s going to damn pour all weekend.

Debbie Downer. Wahh Waaaaahhhhh.

What Brought You Here?

Things people “searched”… and landed here.

– moving out with nothing (this was my favorite one, poor lad.)

– what should i have first

– what i should have said was nothing

– crazy core skittles

Back on the Running Horse. Not to be Confused With Running Deer.

Welp, until yesterday, I hadn’t run since about a week after my cervix-surgery. Doctor’s orders. I didn’t like the orders, but nervous my innerds would fall out, I listened. So, Monday, I actually set my alam in the afternoon – and made my way to the Y.

I walked in and felt like fellow Y-ers knew I hadn’t been there in a few weeks. I wanted to scream out, “I didn’t leave you! I had a damaged cervix that needed to be fixed!” I hopped on the treadmill, per usual… and started running. I really didn’t think I was going to make it past a mile. Really. I hated life at that point. But something happened and I got in a groove. Thank the Lord. I banged out a few more miles and hopped off. Now, my legs wanted to buckled under me after that — but I walked it out. Apparently I don’t know the meaning of “easing into it.” All or nothing. Bam.

I lifted, as well. I’m paying for that today. If a seven-year-old came behind me today and held my arms back, I’d have no defense. I’d get beat by a 1st grader. Wait, is that how old you are in 1st grade? (This lack of maternal knowledge, my friends, is why I’m getting a house… and not having children right now.)

I’m headed back to the gym right now. I should probably go everyday now until the half-marathon. Lord knows that thing won’t run itself.

I’m Addicted

So, since all the house hub-bub started… I’ve been hooked on HGTV. Have you ever watched that network, people? It’s awesome. First-home buyers, 4th-home buyers, renovators, odd-home owners (not to be confused with odd homeowners), DIY stuff, designing to sell… it’s all there. One channel. One glorious place. It’s battling the Food Network hardcore for my love right now.

I don’t want to turn HGTV off — it prohibits me from getting sleep Sunday nights before work. Eric thinks I’m nuts — hell, all those renovation shows make him sweaty — so, we turn the channel.

I mean, who knew neckties are decoration? Or purple is a good shade that goes with gray? Or that you can make a set of monster desk shelves for under a hundred bucks?!

I’m just hoping once we move and get settled, I can actually execute some of the ideas I’ve seen. Good thing I wasn’t taking notes. Damn.

Nothin’ Like a 30-year Fixed Rate.

After nine years of apartment living, probably longer for Eric — we’re doing it. Purchasing and moving into our first HOME!!!! (Insert squees here.) Sorry it took so long to tell you all — we’ve just been so damn busy, today is the first chance I’ve had to sit down and share the news. Plus, I wanted to make sure neither of us were going to back out — before posting it over the whole damn world wide web. Ha.

It’s a wonderful house. We lucked out with it — the price + location + timing… couldn’t have all been better. My pictures of it aren’t all that great, because I took them as we walked through the first time — so, I’m taking pictures of light fixtures, walls and windows. That probably won’t give you the best idea of how things look, eh? It’s a ranch with an electric fire place, .5 acre yard, a nice porch 3 bedrooms, 2.5 bathrooms, a den, monster kitchen… and the ability to finish off the basement (err, “man room,” as Eric so lovingly calls it). It’s great, too, because the house is only about 4 miles from where we live now. Score!

It’s all pretty overwhelming. Weird to think that I can’t just decide I want to move now — like, apartment-living. I can actually bash holes in these walls and paint whatever  I damn well please. The thought of not having to actually live within white walls is awesome. I just want to take gallons of paint and go crazy!! I’m excited at all the little projects Eric and I can tackle.

We’re already planning the housewarming party. You can come, too. Just bring the deviled eggs. (I should probably start naming some other food item for people to bring — because everyone I see, like at work, I say, “we’ll be having a party, just bring the deviled eggs.” So, when it does happen, we may have 64 trays of eggs. Eh.)

We’re really oh-so-excited. Mini-nervous — but more excited. Excited our money is actually going into something that’s ours — and not my apartment manager’s manger’s.  Our closing date is fast approaching. Think: 16 days. Yikes! I haven’t packed a lick yet. Any takers? Will the boxes pack themselves? Unlikely. It feels like I just moved into this place.

Ah well, I’m moving somewhere different… bigger, better… maybe. But either way, it’ll be ours. Sure, Eric and I are definitely taking the “unconventional” way around the “traditional relationship” — but we don’t care. Still, after 4 years, there isn’t anyone else I’d rather be doing this with — and it feels awesome. The ring will come… in time. Hell, we just bought a house. The thought of even planning a *gasp* wedding… makes me shudder. One thing at a time people…

So yeah, that’s what I’ve been doing these last 3 weeks… how do you like dem apples?