House... moving... tired

Monday marked the beginning of my vacation, which is not so much a vacation as it is the beginning of my temporary manual labor job. I have ripped out carpet and baseboard, torn off wood paneling to see the wood paneling underneath, applied primer and paint, and essentially earned every callus on my hands. Hear me roar.

The good thing is that I haven't been going it alone. Ransom and Katie have helped more than I ever dreamed they would. In addition, I had help today from Dottie and her mister, who are in the process of moving to Phoenix from Baltimore, but decided to stop in, feed me, and help me paint while they're in town. I hope they will move to Portland soon so I can return the favor. Just as those two were nearing their paint fume limit, more help arrived in the form of a Crystal and a Brian, and, later, a Kenna who helped with the taping off, which is my least favorite job. We got so much painted today, it's amazing. The house might even be ready for moving in on Saturday!

Which reminds me, I've been terrible about begging people to carry boxes for me on Saturday. If you're not busy and you hate yourself a little, help me move! We're meeting up at my old house in the morning, moving everything to the new house, and then putting some food on the grill so we can chill in my new back yard. It will be excellent.

Now, I fall over.

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Directions to the hardware store -- for Jesus

Courtesy of Google Transit, of which I'm now slightly dubious.

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Lids, not kibbles and bits

I barely caught a glimpse of the man standing next to me as I poured cream into my coffee until he reached over to get a napkin and his arm came into my line of sight. Based on the jacket he was wearing, I figured he was one of the people who hang out on the bus mall who may or may not have homes -- it's never really clear.

But then I noticed that his slacks and shoes were quite nice and his face was clean, so it looked like he'd just gotten confused with his jacket. It was an odd combination.

Inadvertently, I poured too much cream in my coffee and remarked on it.

"Mph fimph mifa hodmph ghomph," he said. He was unintelligible in the manner of Brad Pitt's character in Snatch.

"What?" I inquired.

"It filled witha holy ghost," he said. He had spoken more clearly this time, but still had either an accent or just that way of speaking that the crazies on the street tend to have -- maybe a combination of the two.

"No, I think it's just coffee and cream," I said, but quietly and I don't know whether he heard. I picked up my cup so I could pour a bit out into the trash container and barely refrained from saying, "There goes the holy ghost!"

"Don't forget your lid," he advised. "Miph numph kiffble mph bimph."

"What?"

"Lids, not kibbles and bits. Always remember that." He turned and smiled so that I was staring into the cavities in his teeth. "Lids, not kibbles and bits."

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Space Invaders

This rules.

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Two times a Zoidberg

The sale of my house has gone through. I'm a Zoidberg once again. Hurrah!

A million thank yous to Miss Joseph for doing absolutely everything. Seriously, she did all the worrying so I didn't have to. (And the calling and the faxing and the filling out of forms...) She is an excellent realtor. I highly recommend her to anybody who's thinking of buying or selling, as long as you're not intimidated by smart, tall, hot women who do their jobs well and play bass guitar on the side.

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Overheard

At the title company this morning, a woman was in her office talking on the phone. She said:

"I realize you have your issues. I have some issues, too."

...

"Okay, well, we both have our issues and hopefully we can get them resolved by 1:30 today."

Working in real estate must be like living in a sitcom. Sure, it's longer than half an hour, but hot damn would it be nice to say, "I've got some issues, but they've got a deadline of 3:00, so I'll be fine after that."

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A hermit crab without a shell

I can no longer run around saying, "Look at me, Dr. Zoidberg. Homeowner!" Today I signed papers to sell my home. Now, it belongs to someone else entirely. The three bathrooms, eight thousand spiders, Japanese maple tree, and everything else that was in the sale agreement are mine no more. Of course, I still live there and will continue to do so for the next 27 days, but I'll have a landlord. No more putting holes in the wall for me! Just leaving those that are already there behind.

It's been a good house, and I'll miss it. Its newness will certainly be missed as I spend days prying open painted-shut windows and regrouting the bathtub in my new house. But overall, this is a move onward and upward, so I'll only do a little looking back. Next week, I sign papers to become a Zoidberg once more.

Photo lifted from KFK, who has been even funnier than usual lately if you can imagine such a thing.

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The lull of an almost holiday

Days like today make me happy, days that are sort of lost in the shuffle. It's not quite a holiday, but beween a weekend and a day off. Most of the country has the day off and is shopping for barbequeables for tomorrow, stocking up on beer and chips. I'm here at work, relishing the slowness, the lack of phone calls and emails. There are no emergencies, nothing that has to be done or else. It's a nice haitus from the real world.

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