Long time no post, huh?

Such is the life of a self-involved flibbertigibbet busy woman of the world these days. It has been go, go, go around here lately.

What’s been going on? Not a whole lot. I just got finished singing love-songs to myself using my recently re-acquired karaoke machine. I’d taken it to a party and left it behind so the other party-ers could keep having fun with it, and just got it back last night. Of course as soon as I got home I had to test it out to make sure it was still in working order. Right? Note to all the single women living alone right now: you’re never lonely when there is karaoke to be sung!

Back to real life.

Roommate is out. She left behind a ton of stuff, all of her food, DVDs and pots and pans. I’m sort of holding them for ransom until I get a check for her share of the last month’s utilities and cable.

I haven’t started the hunt for a replacement roomie, I’m sort of avoiding it until I absolutely have to.\

That’s about all for now. Just checking in with you peeps.

Don’t forget to vote tomorrow!

I have no idea who I will vote for. Both sides choices the crap out of me.

McCain/Palin or Obama/Biden? There are whack-jobs on both sides fervently pushing for their side and coming up with crazy assertions towards the opposite candidates. I’ve been trying not to listen to any of it.

Until a few months ago I was a registered republican and voted so the majority of the time. When I moved last, I re-registered and didn’t pick a side. I like thinking that I’d rather vote for the candidate I most agree with (in any election).

I doubt any candidate will “fix” America. There is too much fighting between party lines for that to happen. I don’t know how, but I am hopeful that we (you, me, that guy across the street – regular people) can think of something to help our ailing nation.

Anybody got any ideas? Seriously. I’d love to be able to make a difference I’m just not sure how.

I found a roommate!

She came by this weekend and Echo just fell in love with her. Seriously, as soon as she sat down he jummed up into her lap and purred himself to sleep. Luckily I had roll of painter’s tape handy so she could de-fur before she left.

She won’t be moving in until the end of the month so it gives me plenty of time to unpack the boxes I’ve got stored in that room’s closet and find a new home for the double bed and oh crap, where will I put the treadmill? I told her she’d be able to park in the garage, but that means I’ll have to clean out the other side of it. I should probably reorganize the kitchen cupboards too.

Oh my goodness. Am I ready for this?

I broke down and posted an ad on Craigslist for a roommate at a more reasonable rent. My dad wants to charge half the price of the mortgage. Six weeks ago I posted an ad with that price and I had no bites.

Sunday night I posted the new ad and boom I get half a dozen men looking for a room in the first day. Most I’ve put off telling them I’ll keep their emails, but would like to hold out for a female roommate. One got through before I had my strategy set though. He’s coming by to look at the place tonight. My dad will be there also. A girl’s got to be cautious.

He sounds alright in his emails. The biggest question will be if Buster likes him. Buster doesn’t like everyone  especially men. I can’t worry about Buster getting irritated with some guy and charging him or the guy maybe hurting Buster if something does happen.

Wish me luck. Know anybody who needs a place?

I honestly don’t know if I’ve mentioned the unintentionally self imposed semi-hermit life I’ve been living for the last couple of years.

It started out innocently enough… When my 2nd all-time favorite roommate moved to Davis with her boyfriend I decided that rather than jump into another year-long lease, I’d move in with the ‘rents for the 6-8 weeks it would take me to find a job in San Francisco (go ahead, laugh at me).

Well the job never happened. My cripplingly low self esteem and lack of a network left me feeling like a giant looser. It got really easy to just hole up at my parent’s house (30 minutes outside of town) and never leave. I had stopped going to church and bible study so I wasn’t interacting with anyone other than the two friends who lived closest to my parents and a few out of town friends via phone. I was NOT a happy person.

I spent almost two years living with my parents. Looking back I have no idea how I managed it. Oh, wait, yes I do. I spent money like a millionaire. I bought so much crap! Maxed out credit cards (yes multiple cards) and had next to nothing to show for all of my spending. But I had (and still do) a huge library of movies and TV shows on my iPod. I’m not going to add it up for you, it is that bad. The worst part? I wasn’t paying any rent. Any rational person would take this time to save up a nest egg, pay off their credit cards maybe go on a vacation. I did none of those things.

OK, Tobie stop. You’re getting worked up and off track.

Sorry folks I’ll try to get back on the subject which was? Let me go read my first paragraph. Ah yes, my hermit-ing.

Once I moved out of my parent’s house, I moved into a one bedroom apartment all by myself. I’ve always enjoyed living alone. Roommates can be awesome. But really living alone rocks. Not having to worry about being quiet in the morning or late at night because other are sleeping. The only dishes in the sink are yours and you can clean only when you want or have to.

My social life did pick up a bit. Teach and I started scoping out new churches, I was able to have out of town friends come visit and just getting out of my parent’s house was a huge boost to my ego. This is where I have to be careful. Because for some people, living with your parents is a smart and healthy move. But for me it wasn’t.

The transition from renter to (sort of) home owner was easy. I wanted a place where I could finally unpack and maybe even paint the walls. A place to make my own. I’m a long way off from what I want my place to look like, but I’m satisfied in knowing that it will be someday.

There I went again. Off track. The point I keep getting away from is that I’m starting to make new friends and it feels AWESOME! I actually had someone other than my parents over this weekend. I’m considering it practice for Saturday when McGee and her schmups invade for a day of swim fun. I’m so excited!

Gotta go. I started writing this over an hour ago and I’m sort of sick of me.

I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting lately. Actually, no I haven’t. But I have woken up to the fact that I really, really hate my job which in turn makes me do it poorly. The poor job performance drives my dad/boss insane. Insanity turns into anger, anger into yelling. The yelling reduces me to tears, the tears eventually give way to seething disgruntlement and to bring us full circle, to me not doing a good job.

Until very recently (this weekend) I’d thought I’d finally caught on at work. I hadn’t cried in months and though I still got yelled at a couple of times a week, for the most part it was because my dad/boss was mad about something out in the shop and taking it out on me (a frequent occurrence). This weekend though, the rose tinted glasses were knocked off of my face when my mom told me that I should start looking for a new job as my dad/boss has had it with me. I was stunned. I thought we were getting along better than ever. Like I said I hardly ever cry anymore, and the yelling had all but ceased.

After my mom told me I hit rewind on my brain and reviewed the last couple of months at work. I noticed that I spent a lot more time doing things like reading books, playing games and watching movies at my desk. Last week I watched an entire season of Charles in Charge on Netflix. The week before that, I read three books.  When I got to work yesterday morning I took the time to actually look around at the office: the floors needed vacuuming, a layer of dust covers every surface and my desk is a complete mess. No wonder my dad/boss hates me. I sort of hate this person I’ve become.

None of my former employers would recognize me today. I’ve become a lazy good-for-nothing.

I need to make a change.

Tomorrow I’ll even wear close toed shoes so I can vacuum with out sending hundreds of tiny metal slivers onto my feet. I may even dust!

Pray for me people. I need to get my self respect back or I’ll never get a new job.

P.S. I almost didn’t write about this but I think I need to public humiliation to keep me accountable. Feel free to ask me how I’m doing ever now and then.

My dad is sad. I think I know why.

He just got here (work) a little over an hour ago after dropping off his oldest sister, aunt and uncle at the airport. We have sort of a weird family tree back in the Midwest. My dad has two sisters, older and younger, and two step-sisters, both older. I was in college when I found out that the Grandma I always thought of as my dad’s mom was really his step-mom. I never felt like she or my aunts didn’t love me just as much as my other cousins.

Wait, I’m getting off track, as usual. My great-aunt, who went home today, is my dad’s biological mother’s sister. She has always been a part of my dad’s life, as far as I know.

I think my dad is sad because he knows that this morning could have been the last time he ever sees my aunts or uncle. Living as far away as we do, years tend to go by between visits. I’ve been lucky enough to get back there more often than the rest of my family and it is a good thing there isn’t a whole lot to do and see there because most of the time is spent visiting family and I love it.

Last April my great-aunt’s brother (my great uncle) died quite suddenly. Yes, he was almost 85, but he still lived alone and took good care of himself, so his passing came as a bit of a shock. Of course my parents flew out for the funeral, and several more times throughout the last year for various reasons regarding his estate. Before that, I think it had been several years since my parents had been back.

Now, everyone is getting older, my generation is having kids, the older ones of my generation have kids graduating high school. Circle of life and all that jazz.

The meaning of this whole mish-mosh of a post is that I love my family. I love my friends and I want to make sure they know that.

I also wanted to remind anyone who is reading this to let YOUR family know you love them. Especially the older folks we tend to think will always be around.

P.S. Just call me Debbie Downer today.

Do you ever feel like you’re tip-toeing through life? I’ve had this weird sense of doom looming over me the last couple of weeks and I have no idea what it means.

I’ve been so very careful lately. I haven’t been overspending, I’m going straight home from work, not stopping for fast food as often as I had been, not calling people as much as I usually do. I’m just waiting.

Starting Wednesday, our extended family begins arriving. My dad’s oldest sister and my dad’s second oldest sister’s daughter (my cousin but not daughter of the aunt who is arriving with her (still with me?)) are getting into San Jose airport a little after 11:00 p.m. and since they’re staying with me, I’m picking them up. The plan is to head into San Francisco bright and early Thursday morning so the afore mentioned aunt (who has never been to California before) can ride the Cable Car and see the Golden Gate Bridge. I’m thinking about driving us in because my cousin (who has been to visit me a couple of times and been to SF both times) only wants to make sure to buy a crap-load of saltwater taffy at the candy store at the end of Pier 39 and to get as close as possible to the Golden Gate Bridge to take pictures.

Last I told her was that we’d drive. Now I’m sort of thinking we won’t. But then I don’t know. Driving and Bart will take almost the same amount of time. Plus if I drive in we’ll have the added benefit of not having to wait on buses and Muni to get us to where we want to go. I got a tip on a cheap parking garage near Union Square so I probably will drive.

While the three of us are enjoying SF, my other cousin who has visited me a couple of times in the last few years will be arriving in Sacramento around noon, with her six-year-old son. My mom is in charge of picking them up and stopping at In-N-Out for lunch before taking them to her house to get settled in and to swim.

At some point, we’re all supposed to meet up for dinner that night, but I’m thinking of making that a tentative plan as I don’t want to have to rush home if we’re having a good time in the city.

Friday, the rest of the clan arrives from Kansas City. Did I mention that everyone flying in is flying in from the same place? It’s sort of weird. We’re the funky off-shoot branch of the family that live in Cali while the rest all live where my dad grew up. Friday night, is the rehearsal dinner. It doesn’t start until 7:30, I’ve been told, but the actual rehearsal at the country club starts at 4:30. A three hour rehearsal? Really? I’m not trying to be difficult, but I’m not showing up for the rehearsal unless I’m specifically told to. I’m still peeved about the hideous dress I have to wear in order to be in charge of the guest book.

Saturday is shaping up to be a loooong day. Hair appointment at 11:00, followed by makeup appointment at 12:00 then back to my house to sit in the A/C so the make-up doesn’t melt off until 2:00 when it is time to leave for the pre-wedding pictures with the bride and bridesmaids that I am supposedly in, even though I’m not a bridesmaid.

The actual wedding will begin at 5:30 followed by a reception.

On Sunday I and the same Aunt and Cousin who went into SF will head up to Reno for the day. It’s a 2 1/2 – 3 hour drive, but neither of them have been there. Some of the brood will be headed to Disneyland and the others plan of hanging out with my parents for a couple of extra days.

Everyone starts leaving on Monday, then Tuesday and the last to leave will be on Wednesday. I have no idea what days I’ll be at work.

I have a feeling I’m going to be exhausted.

Oh, and Cate and I recorded a new podcast. Check it out!

So yes, with all that is going on in the coming week it is probably a given that I would worry. It’s what I do best.

I’m plumb tuckered out.

I used to think weekends were made for lazing around the house, sleeping in and enjoying doing nothing. I also used to live in an apartment and didn’t have to worry about things like lawns and plumbing.

Saturday started off easily enough. I pulled my car out of the garage opened the door to let in the cool morning breeze and I got started on my cabinet doors. An hour and a half, 48 hinges, 144 screws and two rechargeable battery packs later I was able to start washing down the doors. Around the same time, my parents showed up. Mom to finish the paint in the living room, dad to finally fix the knob on the guest shower so that when his sister and niece show up next week, they can have a place to bathe. Of course, fixing the knob ended up being more difficult and required extra screws than we had so a trip to Lowes was in order.

All the while my parents worked inside I sat in my garage washing doors. I also met several neighbors. The mailbox is right in front of my house, and people kept walking by to get their mail. It was interesting to see who would actually come up and meet me or just walk by with a nod or in one case, no acknowledgment at all. Whatever. That guy looked creepy anyway.

Before leaving, my parents installed a transition strip between the foyer and living room and dad made a mental list of more stuff he needed in order to fix the shower knob for good.

My mom called me just as I was emptying out my basin of dirty cabinet water for the 5th and final time to tell me my Dad would be coming back to finish fixing the shower, and he was bringing along the lawn mower to tame the jungle in my backyard.

Six, (yes SIX) lawnmower bags of grass later, my tiny little backyard was looking a lot more presentable and my green waste garbage can was full. I was wanting to die from heat exhaustion and just plain wanting-to-kill-myself-ness (I didn’t want to die, just a nice long rest) my dad left. My shower was working, the lawn looked good. The cabinets were ready for primer-ing and I resisted the urge to jump into my pool (wearing the skirt and t-shirt I’d been sweating in all day) long enough to change into a swimsuit before running into the water for a little floating relaxation. I’m not even kidding when I tell you I had to grab a couple of noodles and float while the muscles in my tootsies spasmed. Mental note, maybe stop living in flip-flops.

Sunday was spent with family eating, swimming and being together. Sunday night I actually got started on the primer-ing of the doors. It is going to be a looooong week.

I’ve been staying up a lot later than normal lately. All for a very good cause, but my body doesn’t seem to care. After volunteering last night, I fell onto my bed to rest and was sound asleep in minutes. I woke up several hours later and starving. This is not a good habit to develop.

You may have noticed the lack of mention or pictures of my house lately. That is because I’ve done nothing since the last time I mentioned it. NOTHING. I have two weeks from today to get it all done because that is when I’ll be picking up my aunt and cousin from the airport. They are the first Missourians to arrive for the wedding and they’re staying at my house. Two more arrive the next day and the other five arrive on Friday.

TO DO (over the next two weeks)

• Finish painting living room wall.
• Paint kitchen cabinet doors
• Paint cabinet hinges
• Hang cabinet doors
• Get Dad over to my house to install new turn-y on thing for the guest bathroom so it will actually work.
• While Dad is over get him to figure out why ceiling fans and lights don’t work in  two bedrooms.
• Finish unpacking or shove unpacked boxes into closets.
• Train the cats to use the toilets so I can get rid of the always smelly litter box. Seriously I clean that thing ALL THE TIME. It should not be so smelly.
• Clean everything.

Wow. That’s quite a list. Not to mention all the time Cafrine and my super-secret (soon to be revealed) project is taking. Good thing I’m so excited about the SSP that I don’t care about missing sleep!

The other stuff though, that’s got me a bit worried.

My alarm went off way to early this morning. Sadly, it went off at the correct time, it just felt too early.

My weekend was just so full of stuff to do, that I didn’t get to stop and rest. Saturday morning I attended a bridal shower for my future sister-in-law. It was nice, she got lots of stuff off of her registry and a few items of lingerie. She’s a pretty shy girl, so she was glad people didn’t get too crazy.

Right after the shower my mom, F-SIL, the bridesmaids and I met up at the bridal salon to be fitted for our dresses. I finally found out why I have to wear a dress the same color as the bridesmaids. I’m going to be the guest book attendant. The absolute ONE job I asked NOT to be given. It figures. I hate the dress. It looks terrible on me. I did get to pick it out, but it my choices were limited to one particular designer so I picked what I thought was the best of the lot. I was wrong. I HATE IT! I cried on the way back to my house.

I’m feeling a little better today. It’s not my wedding. The day is not about me. You don’t even know how badly I was praying that there would be something wrong with the dress making it impossible for me to wear. If I had the guts, I’d just wear whatever I wanted, but I don’t. I’ll go along with the plan, make everyone happy but me.

Let’s talk about happier things!

Right after the fitting I raced to pick up my Granddad for our hot date! We went to the nearest Indian Casino for dinner and slots. Dinner was OK. The slots vacuumed up our money faster that it took for us to eat dinner and we were home before the was down. Which turned out to be a good thing because dinner didn’t agree with me at all.

Sunday after my new (hand-me-down, from my parents) bed (California King size!) was delivered. I got yelled at by my dad for not having all of my boxes unpacked, and I held a trial run for my house warming party. Don’t worry that you weren’t invited party peeps, the real one is coming! Teach, Treble, GrumpyBear, Mr. GrumpyBear and baby GrumpyBear all come over for a little swimming and food. Treble and I were the only two brave enough to actually get in as the water was a little cold.

It’s a good thing I had them over because it made me realize that my house is little and the pool takes up a lot of space. Also, I only have one outdoor chair and my dining room chairs are not all that comfortable. I guess I’ve been spoiled by my parent’s party palace.

I’ll just add all of that to my ever expanding list of things to buy. Anybody want to loan give me a million dollars? I’d say loan, but who am I kidding, if I could afford to pay you back, I wouldn’t need a loan.

I was on such a blogging roll last week. Or was I? I don’t really remember. I could go back and check, but that would require opening another tab, and navigating back to the blog and I just can’t be bothered.

Moving on.

Did I ever show you the pictures from the weekend McGee came over to help me paint? I don’t think I did. Here’s the dining room:

Only, we didn’t get quite that much done. My mom came over the next day to lay down the blue tape for me and show me how to remove the window blinds.

Here is the living room wall:

Believe it or not, my mom said she liked the “faux” finish. In reality, I was just trying to ave a buck and some time by reusing the paint rollers we’d just used to paint the dining room with out washing them out first. I convinced McGee it was ok, the first coat would act like a primer. I have no idea if I was right, but finishing the job has been a bitch and a half. I finished off the gallon last night and I still have to go over the top edges. Actually, my mom will do that tomorrow night. I’m not so good with ladders. Luckily, when I was choosing my paint colors I got a whole pint of the paint for my test patch so I hope that will be enough to finish the job.

Wish me luck when I get home from work today. It is only in the full light of day that I can see some of the weak spots where a little more color is needed.

P.S. Dark paint sucks!

P.P.S. McGee is quite possibly the nicest, coolest chick in the whole wide world! Thanks you sexy bee-atch!

I just posted an ad on Craigslist for a roommate.

Now I’m a little bit sad. It makes sense. I can’t afford to pay the full mortgage on my own, my parents make up the difference each month. Yeah, I feel like a huge looser. A huge looser in an awesome house, but still a looser.

I’m hoping that my cousin from Missouri will find a job out here soon and be able to move in with me. In the meantime I need to cover my bases.

::sigh::

Being a responsible adult is hard.

Remember all of the grand plans for my house? The painting, the furniture shopping, the painting, the re-upholstering, and the painting? Frak me, I’m sick of it all.

My problem is that I spend so much time thinking about and planning what I’m going to do that when I finally get started and I can’t finish a project in a couple of hours I just want to quit. This habit is easy to hide with small projects like a scrapbook page or a photo collage where I can just shove the unfinished project into o box or drawer and tell myself I’ll finish it later. Unfortunately, on a larger scale, like kitchen renovation the unfinished mess is out there in the open for all the world to see.

Counting today, I have 40 days to get my house together before guests start to trickle in from the mid-west for my brother’s wedding. For most people, this is a completely reasonable time-frame. In fact, most people would have probably already had their crap unpacked within a week of moving in just to make the day-to-day living more bearable. I didn’t even find where I packed the toilet paper until yesterday. I’d just been stealing rolls from work or my parent’s house whenever I got low.

This is how things stand in my house right now:

• Guest bedroom- is filled with unpacked boxes of stuff I have no idea what to do with.
• The office – has a desk, two bookshelves, books all over the floor because I can’t figure out how I want to organize them and a huge pile of clothes that need to be sorted and carted off to Goodwill.
• The garage – has some more unpacked boxes, a folding table loaned to me by my parents so I could have more surface area for cabinet painting, a giant clothes sorter/hamper filled with clothes that also need to be sorted for Goodwill and empty boxes and storage containers of the few things I’ve actually unpacked.
• My bedroom – is only slightly more put together. I finally unpacked the GIANT plastic storage container of clothes and hung them up last week but the container is still in the middle of the floor next to it is another storage container full of hangars for all of the clothes that I’m keeping from the “need to sort” piles.
• In every room of the house – there is at least one plastic storage container I’ve been meaning to unpack but haven’t gotten around too.
• The kitchen – I may need professional help to deal with the kitchen. Since I have no doors on the cabinets I’ve just been shoving dishes/tools/paint cans/food onto shelves with the idea that I will organize the mess once I’ve got the door back on. It’s sort of a mess.

Did I mention that my brother’s wedding is coming up? My weekends are fast filling up with events associated with the wedding rigmarole so that leaves mostly weeknights after work to get it all done. Have you heard about how hot it has been here lately? We hit a record in Stockton this weekend, all I want to do in this heat is sleep or lounge in the pool.

Anyone want to loan me some motivation? Or a maid/handyman?

For the first time since registering to vote at the tender age of 18, I was called in for Jury Duty. Through out college, I would get the summons every six months like clock work. My mom got really good at calling in to tell them I was in school some four hours away.

Weirdly, once I moved back to my hometown I didn’t receive a single summons for about four years. Then, last year I got one. I ended up not having to go downtown as my group number was high enough, that they never got around to calling me in.

I wasn’t so lucky yesterday.

Monday night I checked the website and was told to report to the Stockton Court House at 12:30. Luckily, my mom works in the building directly across the street from the courthouse so at least I knew where to go. I found out a little too late my mom had wanted to take me to lunch before I checked in, but I’m not a mind reader, you need to tell me these things, mom!

At 12:15 I left my mom’s office and got in the LOOOOONG line to check in for service. Lucky for me I got there a bit early, because it wasn’t until 1:45 that the check-in line was finished and they could actually start sending people up to the courtroom.

I didn’t mind the waiting. I had packed (a recently discovered kick-ass lap-top) bag full of magazines a book and my iPod. Plus, there were several TV’s on around the room all tuned to Lifetime so I got to see the last half hour of some movie and watch an episode and a half of the Golden Girls as I flipped through my mini-stack of magazines I’d been meaning to read since before the move.

Once everyone was checked in, names were called and groups of 15 or 20 were sent upstairs. My name was in one of the second groups. We were herded into a courtroom and every seat was filled with potential jurors before the judge came out to get the party rolling.

The next half hour or so was spent listening to the Judge explain why Jury Duty is so important and then another half hour introducing us to the case and the charges filed against the man sitting between the two defense attorneys we were handed out request for dismissal applications (if we wanted one) and a 20+ page questionnaire.

To make a long story only marginally shorter. The trial was forecast to last about 45 days (jurors are paid $15 a day) and the only way I could afford to actually serve was if I got paid leave for Jury Duty, which I don’t.
So I was dismissed.

For the most part I’m glad I wasn’t picked, but I have to admit I would like to one day be a juror just to see the system in action. Just not for such a long trial.

For the last month or so I’ve had these two little pimple-like bumps on my face. One high on my left cheek bone, another near my nose, and just this morning another has popped up on my cheek. I didn’t really think about the bumps, they didn’t hurt and were small enough that I didn’t feel like a pimply-face teenager again.

This morning as I was surfing the net and waiting for something to do I stumbled upon this article. Having grown up in the pre-skin-cancer-paranoid 80’s and 90’s I always like to keep an eye on the “warning signs” of anything. According to the article and this handy little chart my spots are probably basal cell carcinomas. On the plus side, they’re the least scary type of skin cancer to have.

My first instinct was to rationalize away the need to see my doctor. Which I actually realized as my stomach acids began churning and my head to spin. WAIT! I DON’T WANT TO DIE! GET TO THE DOCTOR, YOU DUMB-ASS! I screamed at myself. I pushed aside the cost of my insanely high co-pay and made the call. I was hoping that I’d be able to make an appointment directly with dermatology but no. Every little thing needs a referral (which means another co-pay). Oh, and there were NO AVAILABLE APPOINTMENTS. None. Not for any doctor. At least not for the next two weeks. How does that happen?

I had to leave my contact details and will wait for a call to tell me when my appointment is. In the meantime, I’m going to wrack my brain to think up any other complaints I might have. If it is this hard to see a doctor, I’d better make good use of my time.

P.S. I’m a little bit scared.

When I couldn’t fall back into the kick-ass quasi-sex dream I was having around 7 a.m. when the cats woke me up to be fed, (run-on sentance much?) I decided to kick this whole settling-in thing into high gear. I hauled two (of four) bookcases into the office, positioned them where they wouldn’t impede the opening of closet doors and proceeded to empty out one (of two) giant rolling suitcases full of books. The six or so boxes of books will have to wait until my mom repairs the third bookshelf (it got smashed in transit) and until someone comes over to help me move the fourth (giant) bookshelf into the living room, after I paint the wall.

If you’re still with me after that grammatical mess of a paragraph take a shot! You deserve one.

I have a couple of hours before I have to be at Brother’s fiancee’s parent’s (enough apostrophes for you?) house for a mother’s day BBQ. In that time I plan to unpack the other giant rolling suitcase of books, organize the desk I refinished (pictures to follow), feed the cats, maybe eat lunch, take a shower, slap on some makeup and maybe watch some of the bajillion shows I have saved. Oh, and take the price tag off of my mom’s M-Day gift and sign the card I got her.

Or, I might just lay down and take a nap.

This is the front of my house before the landscapers did their magic:

After:

Awesome, huh?

The corner behind the waterfall before:

After:

From another angle:

I haven’t got a clue what most of the new plants are but I know enough to know it looks fab and I am one, lucky, lucky brat.

Check out my Flickr feed to see more. Try not to get too jealous.

The majority of my good friends are having babies. I’m not, nor do I think I ever will have a child (babies scare the poop out of me). Still, I can’t help but feel a little bit defective.

I think buying the house was my bizarre way of saying, “Hey guys, I’m a grown-up too!” I’ve had my moments during the process of wondering what in the hell I was thinking. I never wanted to be tied down to the town I grew up in. I had dreams and aspirations, man!

The realist in me knows that this was a good move. With housing prices being as low as they are, I felt like I had to take advantage of the opportunity. It is also really hard to gloat (not in a mean way) when friends who bought houses a year or so ago are kicking themselves for not waiting. Believe me, I am fully aware of how blessed I am.

But let me get back to the point of this post. As I said most of my friends are growing up in major ways and I think I need to put myself out there and make some more friends, cause I was really lonely this weekend. Saturday night found me scrolling through my cell phone wishing I had someone to call to invite over for dinner and a movie or to lay by the pool with on Sunday.

One question though, where do I find these new friends?

P.S. This wasn’t meant to be a poor Tobie post, I am incredibly happy for my old friends and I can’t wait to meet their babies!

ETA: By new friends, I mean in addition to the ones I already love and have fun times with. I’d just like some friends who live less than an hour away.

I need help.

I’ve spent the last five years moving from place to place and not once have I ever fully unpacked. There was always a box or seven stashed in a closet or under the bed that I couldn’t find the space to unload it. Now that I’m in an actual house with closets galore I’m stymied.

Where in the heck do I put everything?

Right now the cabinets are doorless, the shelves work so I can at least start putting things away. But where? My mom is coming over tomorrow to help me get started (Thanks Mommy!) but even she’ll ask me where I want her to put things and I just have no idea.

Anybody want to help? I’ll buy you lunch and let you pet the cats?

This girl! (Insert mental image of me pointing at myself with my thumbs.)

Yes, it’s true! I got to leave work for a couple of hours this morning to help my brother move my stuff into the house. As we speak, he and one of his fireman friends are picking up and installing my brand-new refrigerator.

I’m going to try and get my Dad/Boss to let me leave early so I can go home and sort out some of my stuff. You know, find my sheets so I’ll have a comfy bed to sleep in tonight. The second order of business is to find all of my cat paraphernalia so that I’ll be able to bring them home tomorrow. Poor Buster has to wait a week or so until the landscapers finish up their work. I don’t want to have to worry about him escaping or biting someone while I’m at work.

I GET TO SLEEP IN A REAL BED TONIGHT!!!!!

I’m sitting in my newly floored living room watching Myles of Style while carpet is being installed in the bedrooms.

I am stealing someone’s wi-fi because my stupid internet provider/phone company won’t let me transfer my service because the previous tenants never closed their account. I have send the phone company proof of ownership from the bank or something. Same thing with the mailbox key. We didn’t get the mail key, and the P.O. won’t re-key the box until I am able to show them proof as well.

At least the wi-fi I’m stealing is super fast! Thanks someone!

I sort of like pink. A lot. Can you tell?

In the following pictures the bed will be positioned between the windows and in a  perfect world I want to get a crown for above the bed. I’m trying to talk my mom into making me an upholstered headboard (no idea what color yet) to go with it.

So what do you think? I’m leaning towards the third option.

I’ve had some news on the house front. Not good news.

It seems the bank that is selling the property has had our documents for a week now and were missing some vital page. I have no idea who forgot to include this particular page so I don’t know who to be mad at. I can be mad at the selling bank because they didn’t bother to ask for the page until yesterday. That would be a week after receiving all of the paperwork. A week!

The most distressing news is that if the selling bank can’t get the papers signed and back to the title company by the end of the day tomorrow we’ll have to re-sign everything and it will be at least, AT LEAST another week until I can move in.

Seriously, what did I do to deserve this?

Have I mentioned that I’ve been wearing the same three shirts and two pair of jeans in a constant rotation for the last week and a half? You see, when we packed up the trailer with all of my worldly possessions it was under the assumption that it would be for only a couple of days so ALL of my clothes got packed first and are now only be accessible if we unpack everything.

Thank God I have access to my parent’s washer and dryer or I’d be pretty stinky right about now.

That concludes today’s edition of the “Tobie is Cursed,” saga.

P.S. I am fully aware of how un-freakin’-believably lucky I am to be getting this house in the first place. I thank my lucky stars daily for my kick-ass parents. I just hate living with them.

We all know I’m moving into a house. If I ever get the keys.

All of this waiting has gotten me obsessed with colors and what I’ll be able to to paint all of my new walls and rooms. Here’s what I’m thinking for the living room:

or

I can’t decide!

Of course, I will also have to decide how many walls will get painted turquoise and how many will need the brown or white. So many difficult decisions.

P.S. Please ignore my laughably poor Photoshop skills.

P.P.S. Also please ignore any spelling errors or typos. I can’t seem to find the spell check button on the new WordPress dashboard.