Pay Attention to MEEEEEEE!!

That's this blog yelling at me in the title there. I've not been a good blogger (jeezus christ I hate that word. The word just plops out of your mouth like a turd. Awful). So yeah, I am a slacker huh? I say that I want to have at least one update a week for this website/blog thing but of course I keep neglecting it. Why is this? Mainly it's cuz I don't have much going that is all that interesting. I'm trying to be courteous to you, gentle reader, by not posting a lot of sleep-inducing blather about my day-to-day existence. I HAVE to know about all this stuff that's in my head but I can at the very least shield you all from it. Basically I'm a hero and you need to praise me.

Alright, so...um..what's up? Not much with me. Yes, ok, there's stuff going on but it's all work stuff. I have some things I have to take care of at work and they seem to be taking quite a bit of not only my time but also my brain capacity (short order there huh? zing!). I think once I get past this project I'll be better able to focus on side projects like this (not that I have a ton of hobbies or whatever). I have a long-standing policy of not talking about jobs that appear on the resume so I'm certainly not going to go into much detail here. But I will say that I got cranky at my job recently. I was given a project that I wasn't thrilled about and after trying to wiggle my way out of it with no luck, I just sucked it up and did the work. That's really what I've found works for me anyway. Stop yer whining and just do the thing. Maybe you'll learn something in the process. So yea, it was not fun but it's wrapping up soon and as it turns out, I did learn some things. Meh. I tend to forget that if I'm uncomfortable and grumpy at work it usually means I'm learning something new. Yes, I can be a baby but hopefully I can be less of a baby in the future.

What about home stuff? Well, we recently had our deck and fence replaced at the house. The old deck was not-so-slowly sinking into the ground (this past winter and all that snow really took a toll on the poorly built bugger) and the fence that forms a giant 75-foot L shape between our property and two of our neighbor's houses (we have the corner lot) was threatening to fall over soon. I think the new stuff looks wicked pissah. Wanna see? 'Course you do. Let's do this in "Before and After" style!

See? Look how far away from the house that railing is...it was sinking!

Ahhhh..that's better

This was the culprit corner. This corner was down about 8 inches from where it was supposed to be.

Blammo! Fixed.

The shittiest stairs ever. Not one riser was the same height as the next one. The top one was almost 9 inches. The standard is somewhere between 6" and 7" (yes, I looked that up).

Mucho better.

Bleah. Look at that shit.

Ooh. So fresh and so clean clean.

Not bad right? Pretty slick. We used the same contractor who did our kitchen renovation. He rules. We also had him build us a little shed on the driveway side of the house. I don't have a picture of it but in his words: It's cute! It totally is too. I'm gonna get me a snow blower and keep it in there. Did I mention I know absolutely nothing about snow blowers? I've been shoveling snow since I was a tiny cherub. I believe I deserve some gas powered awesomeness to move that white bullshit for me. It will rule and it will never not work and nobody will ever break into my new shed and steal it. Right? Right.

N.O.T.S.M.

Hi there. I've been pretty busy at work lately so my goofing off time has been reduced drastically. I'll spare you the details since they are less than exciting. It's just work stuff anyway. The kitchen project is not actually starting until the end of April. I was a little premature (what's up ladies? oh wait...) in my last post about when this thing would get going. It still looks like it'll get done before the end of May though so that's just lovely. Oh, and we'll have an eat-in kitchen for the first time since moving into the house almost 12 years ago. That'll be schweet. I like having my breakfast in the kitchen.

I'm in a reading slump right now. I need a good book to kind of kick start my brain. I recently re-read The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy and it .. um .. wasn't as good as I remembered. I read it originally in high school and I thought it was brilliant and funny. This time around I thought it was kinda hacky and the comedy seemed forced. But please keep in mind that I write this fucking bullshit blog thing so you can totally ignore my opinion. Whatever, why are you so mean to me? Why can't I say what I think anymore without you saying things like, "Oh, you think you're so great huh? How many books have you had published? Has this stupid blog been turned into a movie? No? Then FUCK YOU Mark!" Jeez, lay off Billy. My opinion is just that dammit: Mine. I can call out Adams as a not-so-great author and that's perfectly valid. So there. Fuck you, you judgmental cunt.

Ok, then. Got a little side-tracked for a sec. Books. Yes. I need to find some books to read so that I don't get any dumber. Suggestions? I'm not logging into Good Reads or whatever that site is so don't suggest that (I'm looking at YOU Nancy). I'm just too lazy for that. So please do all the work for me. Thanks. Chop chop people...let's get moving.

Stupid House Stuff

'Sup? Work has started on the Not-So-Great Kitchen Project '09. The Crack committed suicide last Wednesday (the 9th) by finally crashing to the kitchen floor (luckily not taking out a cat in the process) and scaring the bejeesus out of me. It sounded like a whole bunch of plates falling and shattering. It was looooooud. I was upstairs at the time and as I made my way downstairs to see what the hell happened (while actually saying "What the hell happened"), I was met on the stairs by Oliver who's eyes were like huge saucers and Molly who's tail was a giant bushy mess. They were on their way up to go hide under the bed which as any cat will tell you, is by far the best hiding space no matter what the threat. House on fire? Hide under the bed. Ceiling crashing to the floor? Go hide under the bed. Huge bed-moving monster from Planet Eatonlyhidingcats? Your best bet is to hide under the bed.

I must admit that I immediately blamed these two for whatever had been broken since they are most likely the culprits whenever there anything is broken in the house. "Oh, you little assholes," I yelled at them. "What the fuck did you do now?" When I got to the first floor and surveyed the living room, everything looked in order. The TV was fine (which was my first thought when I heard the crash. I figured they'd smashed my favorite appliance in the whole wide world) and Morticia was sitting on the couch looking guilty. Granted, she always looks guilty though. "What was that noise, miss lady?" I asked her. She did a little "MMMmmmmrrrow?" thing but totally did not answer my question. She's been around us for over 15 years now and she still cannot speak a work of English. Whatta dope.

I turned to go into the kitchen and was greeted with what was left of The Crack. A decent-sized chunk of the ceiling had come crashing down and I now had shattered plaster and debris everywhere in the kitchen. There was still some crumbs tumbling down from the 2 foot by 1.5 foot hole in the ceiling. "Oh motherfuck", I groaned. The Crack had become The Hole. "Good thing the contractor dude is coming on Monday." I swept up all the junk and wondered just how it was possible that for 11 years I avoided fixing this stupid thing. The Hole responded by dumping more tufts of horse hair and plaster crumbs on my freshly swept floor.

And so yesterday Mike the Contractor came and made The Crack which became The Hole into The Patch. I think the proper noun status of The Patch will be very short lived as Mike moves forward with blending the patch into the rest of the ceiling, priming and then painting everything to match. It's gonna look pissah. Or at the very least, so much less shitty. What about the mudroom? Well, that room is going to be turned into...are you ready for this? A mudroom. I know. Fucking brilliant right? Previously this room was used as kitchen/pantry overflow and pot and pan storage. But since I took everything out of there so that the contractors can patch, prime and paint the space, The Wiff has decided that she'd much rather have that space used as it was originally intended and she'll find another space to put all the kitchen detritus. I'm all for that idea and we are going to look at bench things so that one can sit and take off/put on one's boots and such. It's like we're real-live yuppie douches!

 From top to bottom: The Hole soon after The Crack killed himself.
                                     The Hole with the ceiling fan (naked ceiling fan! ooh! scandalous!).
                                     The Patch with just mud.
                                     The Patch with some texture (soon to be painted and blended).

Also, The Wiff has given me my Christmas present a little early this year. We have this chair that I bought from the AMVETS thrift store in Allston back in 1994 for $25. I carried that bad boy home upside on my head (the chair, not me) and it rules. I used to call it the Archie Bunker Chair but that's not really accurate since it's a rocker. We've carted it from apartment to apartment and finally to the house. It had this horrible fabric but up until the introduction of Oliver the cat, not one rip had shown up. Oliver made quick work of the front right corner of the chair, shredding the fabric and exposing the yellowing foam beneath. And that's how it sat, looking sad and unloved for a couple more years. When the Wiff asked me what I'd like for Christmas this year, I asked her to get the chair reupholstered. And so a couple a days ago the new cushions (and 3 pillows to boot) were delivered and the old chair has new life! Check it. The pics don't really do it justice (it doesn't look that shiny in person).

naked chair (oooh! risque!)                                                 

New cushions and somewhat fancy pillow!

Quick Post of Limited Interest

Not much going on as of late that I'd think would be blog worthy. I've just been working and trying to not get fired. So far, so good. I do have a couple updates I suppose:

1) The Sour Kraut: The project that never was is officially no more. I know, I know. Last week it was hauled away and it no longer can taunt us (AW and myself that is) with our lack of manliness. We didn't really get anything done on the project (unless you count cleaning it a bit and opening the hood a couple times). The long and short of this is that the car needed work that was/is waaaaaay out of our collective skill-set. Adding to the complications was the fact that we didn't have a garage to work in. All we had was AW's lawn and that really isn't good enough for a project car of this...um, caliber (read: giant piece of doo-doo that needed to be almost completely redone). So lesson learned ($400 a piece lesson by the way...ouch. Although, we figure we got about $375 worth of laughs out of it): if attempting a project of this scale, get a garage space to work on said project first. Then maybe, just maybe you'll be able to get the work done.

We may still attempt a much smaller scale engine rebuild in the form of my lawn mower. I know it's no where near as cool as an old Mercedes but we can work on it in my basement all warm and dry. I'm trying to not be too bummed out about failing to be a man. You'd think I'd be used to it by now but it still stings.

2) The Crack: Oh, and speaking of totally not being a man, the Wiff and I have hired a dude, who clearly IS a man, to come and fix our shitty kitchen ceiling. We're also having the mud room cleaned up. Basically we're gonna tart up the mud room in hopes that when the time comes to sell (c'mon economy, you can do it. You can help me get the bloody hell out of Lynn!), the people looking won't notice how wonky the kitchen/pantry set up is if everything is shiny and cleaned up. We should have this thing done by Christmas and that's a decent timeline.

That's about it I suppose. We're headin' up NH to our friends the Peplinski's place for Thanksgiving this year. I'm really looking forward to that. It's going to be nice and low-key and I plan on getting loaded. You have to set your goals and then follow through, people. Have I not taught you anything? Sheesh.

Hmmm, I'm-a-gonna throw in a 5 Song Shuffle here too just to pad this entry. I'm a giver. I give and give.

1. Stiff Little Fingers - Barbed Wire Love
2. The Frames - Keepsake
3. Q-Tip - Do It
4. Dub Trio - Felicitacion
5. Black Rebel Motorcycle Club - Rifles

The Very Timely Death of The Crack

After living with the ginormous crack in our kitchen ceiling for 11 years, the Wiff and I have decided that it's time to fix the mofo. And of course by this I mean "hire some dude to fix the mofo". The ceiling was damaged by what we suspect was the previous owner's kids. The bathroom is directly above the crack and an overflowing tub is the likely culprit. For the first 9 years we lived in the house, we completely ignored the crack and just puttered around the house blissfully ignorant of the blight taking up residence in our tiny, whacked-out kitchen. It was there, and we knew about it but it wasn't bothering anyone so we left it alone. Then in 2007 we put the house up for sale (I know...not exactly the best timing. Thanks economy!) and the crack was like a big ol' gaping mouth saying "HA! No one will pay what you're asking for this place with ME hanging around!" The crack was right.

I had attempted to repair it for the sake of making the house more presentable by using plaster button doo-dads but that didn't work out so great. As I was trying to install them I got a first-hand look at just how bad the damage was/is. When I drilled in the first button, the crack started to open up about 2 feet away from where I was applying pressure. I stopped cold and so did the ceiling. There was a bit of stand off for a few minutes and then I backed off. The crack was taunting me. So I ate the cost of the buttons and decided to smear some joint compound into the largest part of the crack. Yes, it looked shitty but it looked somewhat less shitty than before. I am no artisan. Oh, and then our house still didn't sell. Awesome.

So cut to this past summer and how damp it was here in the Boston area. The beginning of the summer was cooler and certainly wetter than recent memory and when the heat finally did arrive, I noticed the crack had widened. It had drooped more and become more noticeable. And then it started to drop bits of itself onto the kitchen floor. I'd notice little tiny bits of plaster crumbs that the cats had obviously enjoyed batting around the night before. Well goddamn. Now every time I wander into the kitchen (which is a lot...heh, stupid belly), I immediately look up at The Crack. It is now large enough to warrant proper noun status. I secretly think that my joint compound band aid may have aggravated the situation but don't tell the Wiff ok?

And so blah blah blah we're getting it fixed. A few nights ago we had a guy stop by to take a look but it turns out he doesn't fix ceilings (mis-communication there...he's a painter. whoops) so that wasn't so much helpful as it was a complete waste of everyone's time. However, tonight we have a genuine ceiling fixer dude/plaster guru coming over to laugh at our ceiling. Dunno if he'll be the one we end up hiring but it's a start. So fuck The Crack. He must go.

This is The Crack. I hate him.

Stop grinning at me you prick.

Maybe Lynn Ain't So Bad

Spring is here and with the warmer temperatures we will soon be opening our windows up. This is also when I start to regret buying a house on a busy street. I love my house, don't get me wrong, I just don't like where it is. When we were trying to sell it a couple of years ago (oh, and holy crap am I glad that we didn't end up selling it too by the way. With the economy the way it is currently, I'm quite happy with a mortgage that I can afford thank you very much) one of the main motivators was how much traffic noise there is here. Say what you will about winter but at least it's quieter in my house when all the windows are closed. I dread motorcycle season.

This house is the first place I've lived that wasn't an apartment. When we were looking I briefly thought about looking at 2 family houses but quickly realized that I was really tired of living above, below or right next to someone else. I wanted a single family house so that whatever noise there may be, it came from us. Although on a busy street that really isn't true either. But I digress (whatta surprise!).

I spent the first 16 years of my life living in a first floor apartment of a little 2 family house. The people who owned the place lived right upstairs and didn't allow my dad to park his car in the driveway. Another weird "feature" of that place was the fact that we didn't have any real doors (the exception being the bathroom door). All the doors were removed and replaced with those accordion door things. Y'know, the ones that don't offer anything in the way of privacy? Nor do they block sound or light which is a problem if your bedroom is right off of the kitchen. You know what sucks? Being a 15 year old boy with 3 sisters and no real door on your bedroom. We eventually moved to a shitty complex (Bryant Terrace HOLLA!) a few blocks over. I still have relatives living over there and the apartments are not a depressing as I remember. I think it may have been my own attitude (shocking isn't it?). I finally got a for-realsies door though.

After the college thing (long story) I moved out and had a series of apartments until I met Amy (The Wiff). Our first place together was this tiny place in Allston. Since neither of us drove it didn't bother us that there was never anywhere to park in the neighborhood. Unfortunately this apartment was near a couple of frat houses so 2 a.m. wake-up-calls for drunk morons smashing things on the street became the norm. When these instances started happening on Tuesdays, we realized that maybe we should move. Oh, that and the time that somebody got stabbed right below our bedroom window (actual quote: "Dude! You STABBED ME!!"). Yea, that may have been the motivating factor.

We then moved to the International House of Whack-jobs in Somerville. I should have guessed that this would not be a great place to live when I got hit by a car on my bike while I was on my way to meet up with Amy to see the apartment. Kind of a cosmic warning shot across my bow (except it was in the form of a Jaguar and it did in fact hit me). The apartment itself was ok but there were a number of incidents that made us move out a little more than a year later. The one that stands out was I was in the living room and I kept hearing this huge THUD! sound coming from our kitchen. I walked into the kitchen and sort of stood there waiting for the noise to happen again. I didn't have to wait long. THUD! Hmm, it's not coming from the THUD! kitchen, it appears to be coming THUD! from the apartment directly THUD! above THUD! us (there were 6 apts total in the building, we were on the second floor). What the fuck are they THUD! doing up there?

So I went up the back stairway to our neighbor's back THUD! door. I knocked (ok, I pounded) on the door and waited for the door to open. Nothing. THUD! THUD! THUD! It was increasing in intensity. I banged again. Finally a little dude opened the door and he was holding a baseball bat. Ok, didn't see that coming. He didn't seem hostile or anything and so I asked him if he could keep the noise down. Meanwhile the door was still creeping open (the whole building was sinking in the middle due to it being constructed of balsa wood and paper-mâché on a crumbling foundation of stale cookies) to reveal that there were 2 other guys in there also with bats standing around the kitchen table. Laying on the table was a giant slab of some indeterminate meat (goat? lamb?). They were tenderizing it. I cannot make this shit up. I said "What was all that banging anyway?" So, one of the guys showed me. He reeled back and gave the side of meat an all-mighty whack. His once white T-shirt I noticed had a fine mist of blood covering his belly. He grinned at me. Carry on men. I'll be perusing the apartment listings of the local paper thank you very much.

At the time I had a job working for CSG doing energy audits for people (same company as the Hate Bus, different gig. I'll explain later in another installment of Vocational Errors) so I got to see quite a variety of places that may be potential rentals. As it turned out, one of my customers had a place for rent right down the street in an old funky building. He had cut up this gorgeous building into 8 separate apartments of descending quality. I think we got the flagship apartment. The landlord guy (Dan I think?) was a grade-A nut job who cut so many corners on his renovations to that place that it had reached the point where things were really starting to fall apart. But there was no one beating up dead animals there so we moved in.

Everything seemed ok for a bit and then we started to notice that not only was Dan odd but he was also home all the goddamned time. He had all these bizzarro rules and regulations which he posted all over the common areas of the building. He drove us crazy (Amy more so as he would talk to her a lot). In the basement below our apartment was an illegal apartment. The guy who rented this one was a male stripper who would practice at home with the windows open. Oh, come on man. How am I supposed to compete with that? Invest in some fucking shades will ya? He would blast this god awful techno bullshit that would thump thump thump me into a blind fury. I would stomp on the floor trying to get him to understand that there is a pasty white guy up here who not only doesn't want to be reminded of how he is soooo not qualified to be a stripper but would like a little quiet please. Sometimes he'd turn it down and sometimes he wouldn't. He didn't know that I knew where the fuse panel for his apartment was. I would just turn his power off. I dunno if he ever figured out it was me or if he just thought his stereo was too powerful.

It was all these little battles and petty arguments over space that made me pine for a place of my own. A place not attached to someone else's place. We've been here since 1998 now and have come to the conclusion that all those projects that we figured would be "the next guy's problem" are in reality our problem. We ARE the "next guys". Last week I had a friend of mine who does construction come over and give me some advice on a kitchen renovation. This could be huge. I think I love my house.

Adventures in Home Ownership

Ah yes..the roof. I had mentioned earlier that we have to repair a section of our roof. Well, it turns out we should probably replace the ENTIRE roof. Yeah. Technically we could get away with not replacing the main roof but it really doesn't make much sense. Starting tomorrow (Thurs.) the guys are going to be stripping the old shingles off and putting down the new ones. They will most likely have to replace some of the roof decking as well. That stuff adds up fast at $4 a linear foot. Unfortunately neither one of us will be here to take pics of the work tomorrow but they won't be able to finish it in one day so we can get "in progress" shots. Sigh. There goes my vacation money.