Jewel of India, mind of fruit fly
I went to the spaaaaaaaaaaaa (I say it just like that, you know, because it is FANCY with more As) today and had a pedicure. It was lovely. An extremely gay man checked me in and took my jacket and fetched me a cup of coffee, and after a bit a sweet young thing took me into the nail room. I arranged myself in the big chair (heated herbal neck wrap! aahhhh!) and stuck my winter-hardened, craggy feet into the bubbly whirlpool.
I leaned back, sighed, and told the nail girl that I loved her. I think she was scared.
I drank my coffee and read my book and tried not to flinch or scream while she sanded twelve pounds of dead skin off of my feet. read more…
I’ll take levity where I find it
On Saturdays Monkey goes to a social skills group. It’s a nice little thing where he and five other kids who can’t seem to interact with others for longer than ten minutes without having a big hairy hissy fit all work together to learn new things. Like how to read others’ facial expressions! Like alternatives to screaming in frustration! Like how to complete a given task for a trip to the prize box! The sad truth is that when Monkey tells me about a kid in the group who can’t grasp something that he has no problems with (for example, empathy isn’t one of his issues; he can read facial expressions just fine and wants nothing more than to comfort the afflicted, provided they haven’t just stomped on his Legos), I secretly comfort myself with the knowledge that “at least we don’t have to worry about THAT.”
The group lasts just 45 minutes, so we sit and wait. It’s not really enough time to go DO anything while he’s in there, and I’m unwilling to risk not being there the second he gets out. I suspect that would cause him to have one of those gigantic meltdowns that got him into this group in the first place.
This actually has nothing to do with him, but you needed to know why we were there. read more…
Gains and losses
Here’s the thing about being FINE FINE FINE in the face of a steady stream of stress: Eventually, something breaks.
When those people came into my house and broke the soap dish off the wall yesterday, maybe if everything else was dandy that wouldn’t have been a big deal. But there’s a lot going on, and so many changes happening, and as a result, it was a big deal. It was a very big deal.
I broke. First I was angry and indignant, as I repaired the tile last night, and as I tossed and turned in bed, trying to sleep. And then this morning, as I tried to pry open the tube of caulking and it squirted everywhere and I needed to start getting ready for church, I just sat on the edge of the tub and wept. read more…
Maybe if I keep saying it, it will be
Wanna know how the second showing with the Lowballs went?
First allow me to recap. The FIRST time they came to the house, they were so late in arriving, I came home 90 minutes after they were supposed to be GONE and they were still here. Oh, well. Then they made their ridiculous, insulting offer. Then they decided to come back a second time, which made my realtor all happy. Then today they showed up half an hour early and walked in without ringing the bell (scaring the hell out of my children) and acted like I’d done something wrong.
Which was all PERFECTLY FINE. It was even fine when we got home today and it was obvious that their children had climbed all over all three beds. It was all SUPER DANDY AND FINE until looked in the kids’ shower.
Remember this little adventure? Please note the date on that post: October 5th. I repaired the wall in the shower 7 months ago and my children shower in there nearly every night and it has been fine.
The Lowballs ripped the soap dish off the wall, left it dangling, and LEFT NO NOTE. They inconvenienced me, insulted me with their stupid offer, and then BROKE SOMETHING in MY HOUSE. And told the realtor they will not be making another offer because the house needs too much work.
I told my realtor that the realtor who brought them here is never to step foot on my property again.
And then I spent my Saturday night fixing the fucking shower wall AGAIN.
IT’S FINE.
Better omens
Would there be a problem, do you think, with flying down to Georgia the day before my wedding to go to a school board meeting? Yes? You people have no imagination. I mean, I could totally paint my nails on the plane. On the bright side, I have secured a mole who is keeping me informed about what’s happening, a lovely and charming mole for whom I am going to buy many margaritas once we get down there. So I know what’s happening, at least, even though it’s killing me a little not to be able to participate, because that’s the sort of overbearing and bossy parent I am.
In unrelated news, thanks to everyone who patiently explained to me how to PROPERLY curl my daughter’s hair so as not to repeat her Little Orphan Chickie experience. We did a test run with the curlers last night, and were quite pleased to behold the bouncy results this morning. It was especially encouraging because the other small head in my house wakes up looking like this every morning.
And I could talk about some other stuff, but right now I have to go clean up and get out of here. It seems that our buyers who offered a buck fifty and a closing next winter contingent on their lottery win have decided to come see the house again in light of our counter-offer ($2k under our asking price, no contingency, June closing). “What does this MEAN?” I asked the realtor. “It means they really want the house,” he answered. It does not, however, mean they’re in a position to buy it, necessarily, so we’ll see.
Maybe I could offer to curl their hair, as an added benefit.
I’d like it in small, unmarked bills
Today was utterly craptastic for a number of reasons, and as the day progressed it just continued getting more unbelievable and difficult, until finally I decided that for the next week I am not thinking about anything other than what color I might like to paint my nails.
Look, I’ve really never given being vapid a heartfelt shot. Maybe I’ll enjoy it.
You might be able to grasp the level of suckosity when I tell you that the LEAST heinous thing that happened today was that we got an offer on the house. And not just ANY offer, but a real humdinger. Yes. These generous folks wanted to give us twenty thousand dollars under our asking price, but at least they didn’t want to close for three months AND they wanted the whole shebang to be contingent on the sale of their home.
My knee-jerk response was to tell them to pound sand, but then I got a much more brilliant idea. My realtor was less amused, though, by my suggestion that he tell them we’d accept their asking price only if they would meet us in and hour at an undisclosed location with the money in a duffel bag.
Your hair prayers were answered
Before I delve into recent events here at home, I feel the need to pay a bit of attention to my neglected television category. (Otto allows me to cheat on him periodically with a few select shows… he’s progressive, that way.)
In all seriousness: I may end up addicted to Thank God You’re Here, which is filling the empty space in my heart where Whose Line Is It Anyway? went before I’d finally seen every single episode several times. Dave Foley might even be funnier than Drew Carey.
With great glee: You know I’ve had issues—annoying, continuing issues—with my cable service here. So, really, there are no words to describe how I felt when I heard this little bit of news except, perhaps, “Wow, that’s Comcastic!” (Hey Comcast, karma’s on the phone for you.) read more…
Brains leaking out my ears
We’ve come to that time of our program where I start to lose my mind.
It’s not dramatic or particularly concerning, really. It’s just that between the kids, selling the house, work, and getting married, my brain is full. People ask me questions and I stare at them blankly. I have a stack of mail I keep stuffing in a box (because the house is being shown, and no one wants a house where there’s mail visible!) even though I know there’s things in there I should probably be paying attention to, like bills and paychecks.
The kicker, of course, is that everyone else retains their regular mental capacity, while I find myself staring and drooling and—when pressed—exclaiming things like, “I’M GETTING MARRIED! WOULD YOU LIKE TO BUY A HOUSE?” It’s a wonder anyone is still talking to me. read more…
I can dress them up, but. . . .
Today many wedding-related items arrived in the mail. (Again with the wedding? Sheesh, could I shut up about the wedding already? No, apparently I cannot. But in about a week and a half I’ll stop, I promise.)
First I found Otto’s wedding ring flung to the side of my steps by my alert and caring FedEx delivery man. I was here at the house all day, so I can say with some certainty that he drove up, threw the package out of the truck, and drove away as quickly as possible. I’m sure his failure to ring the doorbell and HAND the package to me was out of concern for my well-being. He probably figured I was busy and didn’t want to disturb me.
Anyway, the ring is perfect and so I forgive my idiot FedEx man. (Now I just have to have it engraved and—assuming Otto shows up when he’s supposed to—we officially have all the wedding essentials.) read more…
Consider the alternatives
Hey, guess what! My house didn’t sell this weekend, and today after church we pretty much did… nothing. That leaves slim pickings for posting, really. Let’s see. Possible topics for tonight include:
1) Whining about the fact that my house hasn’t sold yet;
2) Rambling on and on about the joys of a day at home where I spend the entire day sniping at the children to PICK UP PICK UP and snatching laundry from the dryer and putting it away IMMEDIATELY because the house must be kept clean (see item 1);
3) Pointing out that my acne has apparently not been notified either of the fact that I’m in my mid-30s or that I’m getting married next week;
4) The fact that my friend Julia is taking a walk.
Hmmm. Let’s see. Yep; asking for money narrowly beats out whining about the mundane.
Those of you who’ve been around here for a while will remember Julie as the reason I decided to walk 60 miles last summer. I didn’t manage to finish the walk, because I am a delicate flower and I got sick. That’s the bad news. The good news is that I raised a bunch of money before that happened. The even BETTER news is that Julie is not only still cancer-free, but now she’s doing a 5k to raise money for breast cancer research.
Go give her some money if you’re so inclined. Otherwise I am totally going to just bitch about the real estate market every day until my house sells. Let’s not let it come to that.