Home Sweet Home.

January 28th, 2008 by trancejen

The Green Bay entry full of squee is the previous entry.  This is the entry full of sleepy, whiny complaining.

I feel very beat-up and beat-down from my trip.  Don’t get me wrong, it was worth it on every level and I fully expected to come home a hot ghetto mess after I’d been drinking and carousing all weekend.  Hell, even a healthy person would be fucked up for a few days after a Green Bay weekend.

Still, Jesus swash-buckling Christ am I tired, tired on the cellular level, tired in the way that completely laughs in the face of coffee and Diet Coke.  I just want to melt down into the cat-furred carpeting and sleep.

We have a home appraiser coming today to check our shit out so that we can obtain a home improvement loan, because believe you me, we need some heavy improvements in this joint.  This house was built in the 20’s and I don’t believe it’s had too many improvements since then.  If you are a hearty sort of person and you dare to walk down the basement stairs into the TranceCave, you may fall through.

If you wander into the J-Man’s room, which used to be a back porch, or into the TranceCave, which is considered a polar region on most maps; you may freeze off an appendage.  I try to warn people, but still they insist on “seeing the house” or “checking out the bedrooms” or “having a quickie”, and the number of emergency room visits is becoming staggering.  We try to keep the space heaters cranked up but then our crack electrical system goes into overdrive and the fuses blow.

The fuses blow at least twelve times per day.  Sometimes we place bets regarding how many times they will blow.  There are rules at my house.  You can’t run the coffee pot and the toaster at the same time or the fuse will blow.  You can’t use the blow dryer in the bathroom if the flat iron is plugged in, and you can’t really use the blow dryer for more than two minutes or bad things will happen.  You can’t run the microwave at the same time as any other appliance, or the Electrical Gods will be angered greatly.  The microwave is sacred.  The microwave runs on the same fuse/line/whatever (obviously I know nothing, which is probably part of the problem) as the computer, so our computer has blown out at least four thousand times.  As a result, our computer is mentally retarded.

The carpet is about forty years old and used to be cream-colored.  Every year we say that we will replace the carpet come tax time, and every year we find that something more important has blown up/broken down/collapsed.  The cats have vomited on the carpet approximately six hundred and thirty seven thousand times, prompting treatment with Resolve.  Therefore there are six hundred and thirty seven thousand clean spots on the carpet.  The rest of it looks like complete and utter shit.  We tell people that it is polka-dotted on purpose, but I don’t think that they buy it.

The walls in the living room are covered with that thick, crusty, textured paint that bears a strong resemblance to pigeon droppings.  My hatred for this paint knows absolutely no bounds.  To paint over the paint is nearly impossible.  Even with a textured paint roller the walls soak up so much paint that one can cover about four square inches per hour.  Every day I look at the walls and curse.  I would spit, but it would just blend in with the pigeon dropping look and my venom would be pointless.

The house has “character” in that it has nice built-in china cabinet in the dining room (the eight-foot square “dining room”) and nice French doors for the hall closet, but I would have to say that those are the only features I find promising.  The rest of the house is what I might call Early Ghetto Fabulous.  Whoever lived there before us painted the windows shut at least twenty times, being quite careful to ensure that eighty percent of them could never be opened without the aid of a jackhammer.  I admire their foresight, because I, too, hate that pesky fresh air.

The bathroom is laughable.  You can turn around in my bathroom, but only if you’re quite small.  The shower faucet has broken off in such a way that it can only be replaced by a professional plumber (call a professional plumber!  HA!), so we must turn the water on for the J-Man, who has become irritatingly modest in his advanced years (”MAHM!!!  DON’T LOOK AT ME!!!”).

Hopefully the appraiser will note all of these wonderful little features and find us eligible for the improvement loan.  If not, I will be more than happy to whip out a flashlight and/or laser pointer and make a big production out of pointing out our home’s unique charms.

I’m just accommodating that way.

Happy Monday.  Again.

15 Responses to “Home Sweet Home.”

  1. For-Tart wrote on 01/28/08 at 4:42 pm :

    We were hoping to replace our carpets this year, but other crap (doctors) took the money and ran. Maybe next year.

  2. Poppy wrote on 01/28/08 at 6:07 pm :

    I too am completely beat after Green Bay. I thought I was doing OK until the wave of tiredness hit me at about 10 am this morning and I am still in a fog. I forsee a very early bedtime tonight.

    Good luck with the appraiser - I’ll keep my fingers crossed!

    PS - We had to split at the Mars Cheese Castle because the load of New Glarus beer that I purchased threatened to spill out the bottom of the flimsy bag they gave me - I hope the rest of your drive home was as uneventful as ours was.

  3. Mish wrote on 01/28/08 at 8:58 pm :

    as for the walls - primer - Kilz rocks! never paint anything in a house w/o Kilz is a great rule of thumb. IMHO

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