| |
 |
|
 |
| |
Friday, August 31
Zero's Friday Five
X, S, XJ, XK, XF
posted by: Zero @ 10:44 AM
Wednesday, August 29
Click my heels, here I am.
MID PLEASURES and palaces though we may roam, Be it ever so humble there 's no place like home! A charm from the sky seems to hallow us there, Which, seek through the world, is ne'er met with elsewhere. Home! home! sweet, sweet home! There 's no place like home! An exile from home, splendor dazzles in vain: O, give me my lowly thatched cottage again! The birds singing gayly that came at my call;— Give me them,—and the peace of mind dearer than all! Home! home! sweet, sweet home! There 's no place like home! How sweet 't is to sit 'neath a fond father's smile, And the cares of a mother to soothe and beguile! Let others delight mid new pleasures to roam, But give me, oh, give me, the pleasures of home! Home! home! sweet, sweet home! There 's no place like home! To thee I 'll return, overburdened with care; The heart's dearest solace will smile on me there; No more from that cottage again will I roam; Be it ever so humble, there 's no place like home. Home! home! sweet, sweet home! There 's no place like home!
- Home, Sweet Home, John Howard Payne
posted by: Bliss @ 10:22 PM

Monday, August 27
The town that fireworks forgot...
So, we've lived here in the 'Spa for a little over a week... Maybe a week and a half.
We've seen 3 fireworks displays.
I mean, seriously, WTF?
The other night they were setting them off during a thunderstorm.
I am not sure I get this place. They're so excited it's been around for 200 years that now they're going to blow it up?
Also, getting used to the small town "we close everything up by 10pm" mentality? Odd... Really really odd.
We've lived through drunken neighbors and their party invitations, cracked sidewalks, closed main street and a parade (not to mention that it seemed that every goddamn band played the same damn tune..) and football players collecting for their team.
Other than that, it's been a fun town. Quiet, pretty... People all know each other here... It's only a matter of time before they know me.
And then, hoo boy are they in trouble.
posted by: Skeeve @ 11:16 PM
Friday, August 24
Zero's Friday Five
"I joined the baboon troop..."
posted by: Zero @ 1:49 AM
Thursday, August 23
Home ownership is not poetic.
It is packing and hauling boxes. It is dealing with crackhead movers touching your stuff. It is what should be a one-day process taking four. It is cleaning and scrubbing and discovering a box of books in the bathroom, a box of pots and pans in the upstairs library. It is dirty and sweaty. It is discovering a little crack in a bathtub that you hadn't noticed before. It is walking through a space you've gone through a hundred times before, but this time noticing some fixture - a lamp, a switchplate - that makes you think, "Ooh, that would go perfectly in that one room..." It is purchasing a microwave and deciding that the appliance, once all the snarking and grunting and drilling and hoisting is past, is damn sexy. It is being able to reach out and touch any fixture, any surface, any part of the place and say, "I own this. I can change this, remove it, paint it, do whatever I want, because this is mine." It is living a lifelong dream.
It is realizing that the title of this post is wrong, and should be ignored.
posted by: Bliss @ 1:02 AM

Friday, August 17
Zero's Friday Five
Taizo Hori Sasumu Hori Pookas Fygars Horinesia
posted by: Zero @ 4:51 PM
Monday, August 13
Notes from an house buyer.
I'm not sure exactly what ring of hell we're in right now. We have a mortgage commitment... And we have ok to close... But no firm closing date. last week was a flurry of activity for two days... And then wait, again.
So far it looks like Wednesday could be it. It's not a firm closing date. But at this point I'll hold out hope for anything I can get. I promise that as soon as we're closed, and in the house I'll stop obsessing about this whole mortgage crap...
Then I'll talk about renovations.
; )
posted by: Skeeve @ 11:50 PM
Friday, August 10
Zero's Friday Five
It's been a while since I did a traditional Friday Five. Since the last one, I've found myself a new job, worked there just long enough to discover that it ultimately wasn't what I wanted to be doing and started looking elsewhere. Incidentally, if any of you TKOPpers know of any openings anywhere, doing anything, please throw me a bone, or a contact, or something... I do like bones (no, not that kind Zung. Zip it back up!) There are, of course, a few things I'm not interested in doing. I will list them for you here.
1. Male Escort - Sure, it sounds fun, but it's probably more Deuce Bigalow than it is Back Door Sluts 9. And I'm guessing it doesn't have a wicked since of humor so much as it does massive disease and gross, puss filled things that shouldn't be filled with puss. What I'm trying to say is... No.
2. Retail - Seriously, can I get paid enough to wear a name tag and ask a neverending line of bonafide retards if I can help them find ridiculous garbage that they desperately need but can't describe in any way that's remotely helpful? I'd sooner be turked by a syphallitic bear. It's not that I can't do it. It's that I'd have to go home and kill myself after, having lost all respect for myself and all hope for humanity.
3. Jizz Mopper - Watch the first Clerks if you don't know what this is. Randall says it all. And I'm not doing that. Not even with a tanker truck full of windex and 100" thick rubber gloves... It's just too... kinky? sticky? gross.
4. Lawyer - It's sort of combining the first 3 things on the list, and then wedging a cell phone up your hiney. So, yeah... that's just out.
5. Skeeve's B**** - I'm not quite sure if I can write that, but it rhymes with itch. Anywho, I get offered this position frequently, and I'm not even sure I ever applied or had an interview. Still, it's nice to be considered. That said, I just don't feel I'm up to the task. I mean, Skeeve's a difficult guy to maintain. First, you have to deal with the fact of all that raging body hair (which he braids, by the way), and then, if you can get passed that, there's the nipples with teeth. I don't understand it myself, but they're always hungry and they will bite ANYTHING. Like I told Bliss (Skeeve's HR person), I'll do it if you throw in hazard pay and extended health coverage. But, nooooooooooo. Alas. I'm just not interested anymore.
So, that's it. If you know of anyone hiring anyone for anything other than what's above, toss me a rope. Zero needs a new pair o'shoes. Fo'shizzle.
posted by: Zero @ 1:25 AM

Monday, August 6
That's Mr. Limbo to you.
So, we're in limbo... No closing date at all now. We were supposed to close last Tues and well.. No.
Looks like the bank is taking too long to consider us... According to the mortgage broker this is not unexpected. *sigh*
So, once I find my way out of the outer rings of hell... (box, mortgage, etc) I'll let you know. Me may be able to do a meet this year, but postponed a wee bit.
3 hours of sleep, however, do not make a happy Skeeve, and so...
posted by: Skeeve @ 11:01 PM
Friday, August 3
Zero's Friday Five
Harry Mason, James Sunderland, Cheryl Mason, Henry Townshend, Alex Shepherd
posted by: Zero @ 8:25 AM
Thursday, August 2
Be it ever so humble...
The most important work you and I will ever do will be within the walls of our own homes. - Harold B. Lee (1899 - 1973)
*grab* *crumplewrap* *box* This is therefore the secondmost important work; getting all the things that will make a house a home once we move there.
Already, several things have broken. Nothing that I find myself in any kind of funk over, though. A cheap plate. A toy.
You never realize how many useless Things have accumulated in your life until you need to relocate them.
You never begin to really analyze what among them really matter, in the making of your house a home. This statue, that photograph, those books - what could go, and yet leave your living space feeling still like YOUR space? What, if removed, would leave your chosen private world irrevocably changed?
It's a difficult thing, to separate one's Things from one's Self; sometimes items are so involved in one's life, one's day-to-day as to become almost a portion of oneself, to become an extension, an example of Who I Am. There is a writing style in which one attributes to a portion of an item the qualities of the whole thing - sometimes, the Things one holds dearest acquire that same ability to stand, as a detail, for the whole.
Nail Gaiman's leather jacket. James Dean's motorcycle. Bob Dylan's harmonica. Frank Sinatra's cane. Gwen Stefani's bindi (or, lately, her bevy of silent Asian chicks). Bob Hope's cigar.
And as I pack away the bits and pieces of my life, I wonder - which of these things could be gotten rid of, and still leave me outwardly the same as always I have been? Which things make me ME, to other people looking in?
While I enjoy each of the things I'm boxing up and putting away, I hope that the answer to both questions is the same: Everything and nothing. They show the world an image of who I like to be, but without any of the stuff that I have gathered around me, I still am who I am.
I am what makes my house my home.
posted by: Bliss @ 11:14 AM

ARCHIVES

|
|
|
 |
|
 |
|
| |