Laughing from the top of the roller coaster.

So I spent 3 hours cleaning Happy House today..

You know, for the showing that never happened.

And so today is the day I realized this real estate thing-a-ma-jigger that we've just recently signed up

for is going to be quite the roller coaster.

We live for nearly seven years with a crappy old oven, get a new one in our kitchen just in time for the realtor open house, and now must stare at the old one through our living room window. Officially, kicked to the curb.

And so this evening, with our feet up in our living room... I turned to the Hubs and said, how could this be?

I posted our OLD OVEN on FREECYCLE. How come no one has claimed it yet? I mean, we're trying to GIVE someone a free oven.

And then he said, "well, read me the posting you wrote..."

And so I did.

OFFER: 30" gas freestanding range white

Posted by: "ME"

Sun Feb 19, 2012 2:24 pm (PST)

Tappan manufacturer. Easy pick up - indicate day & time in your reply. This is an older model range in fair working condition (rust, bent handle).

***

And then we just laughed, and laughed and laughed (from the tippy top of our roller coaster ride....)

I guess our trash isn't anybody's treasure.

How to mother a jar of coins.

Just hours ago I set off on an All-American morning of errands. Wal-mart, laminating at work and earring shopping. But first, to the bank to cash in ~2 years of Eric and my coin jar collection. It's a big jar. Like, if you think the costco bin of pretzels is a big jar, imagine it filled with coins.
Well, actually, you don't have to imagine.

Ok, off we go, the money jar and I, tucked safely under the seat next to me as we drive along, then I haul it into the bank, visible strain on my face. It's a big bank, huge lobby. The one giving us $$$$$ (+$$$$) for our house tomorrow (and the next 30 years). I should have thought more about impressions.
Well anyway, over I go to trade in my bounty only to hear a teller gently say from across the lobby "Unfortunately the coin machine is down". Surely I couldn't have heard him right. So I make eye contact with the far off voice. Yup, he's looking at me. And my coins. "But the one at the Pearl Street location is working" (this means hardly anything to me at this point, as I have safely gotten the jug this far and am not sure how much longer I can be trusted with it without a) dropping it b) it falling over while driving or c) having it stolen, admittedly not the easiest grab, but still). 
To regain my dignity I sashayed (it's hard to imagine that I sashayed given the weight of the coins, but I think I did, or tried to. Which actually might have appeared as more of a limp) right on over to Mr. Bad News and say, well as long as I'm there can I get an account balance.
Actually, I was going to do that anyway but he didn't know that!
Well I get the balance which must have seemed funny because in that account is all the money that we're paying tomorrow (plus hopefully a little extra) and that's not a little bit of money, at least to me. And then here I am with my coins.
Account with lots of money.
Jar filled with coins from between the sofa cushions.

Off we go, my coins and I, next stop Wal-Mart and I was quite unprepared for this. I'll be honest with you, we were worried (the coins and I) to leave such treasures in the car whilst I ran in for some cleaning supplies for tomorrow's Ultimate Scrubdown.
So I buried the jar, you know, under a pile of things that were in the car. I know each and everyone of you reading could also bury a jug of coins under useless car accessories. You could probably bury your children, too. So don't judge.
Well I buried my coins and did what any level-headed nervous wreck would do in the Wal-Mart parking lot. I found the nicest car I could and parked right behind that.

It was a Lexus, if you're wondering. 

Me: 1

Wal-Mart parking lot coin stealing thieves: 0

This story is getting a bit long and let me be straight with you, I'm getting sick of telling it. So here's the rest. We get to the next bank. The coin machine works! And then stops working. And then works again! So now instead of hauling around coins I'm hauling around cash which I am desperately wanting to spend on my earrings but I don't know that the Mister would really appreciate that, so I didn't. I mean, I still got my earrings so don't worry about that. 

I know you are just chomping at the bit to know what we're going to spend all that moo-la on so I'll just give you a hint.

Friday night: 

Me

My Mister

A carpet shampoo machine

and pizza hut. 

Stay tuned.

sneak peak at a messy apartment

There's nothing glamorous about living in a stuffy ol' apartment 2 days before closing on a new house.

There are boxes everywhere and when I feel like I'm done with something for a while I just throw it in one of the boxes. I'd say they're strategically placed for that purpose but really they're just everywhere so I could pretty much throw anything anywhere at anytime and it would land in one of my boxes. It's a bit funny to have this flexible deadline for being switched into the new place. Drake is confused and follows me around. That's him sleeping on the rug from his crate, which is set up on the back deck because who can be bothered with things like that inside. But I didn't want the carpet to get wet in the rainstorm. So that's that.
There is zero rhyme or reason.
Here's what I'm going to show up with at the closing:
a carpet shampoo machine (I hope)
some scrubbing supplies
2 stools that I have to retrieve from my classroom
the dog
sleeping bag and pillow
toothbrush
# to the nearest pizza place.
I think that should do it. That might even be over packing. Really all I need is Drake and the pizza number. We'll see what else fits in the car.

Did you know that I have been dreaming of an orange bathroom for about 2 years?

Except I think I'd do wainscoting on the lower half of the wall and then orange up top. I can seem mom rolling her eyes. IT'S OK. I don't think I'll pull the trigger quiet yet. I think the bathroom would need to be really small.
Here's what I'm picturing though...
bathroom

kitchen

See, no orange. So relax.

hoarding tuna and getting caught

If you know me
then you know I would never
hoard tuna.
Ever.

But I know someone who does.
And now I know that I will never
ever
ever
be a tunahoarder.

I went into THE,
I am not yet able to call it MY,
classroom today.

Was I overwhelmed by the amount of stuff still in it?
Yes.
Did I want to move things around and mark my spot in there - so to speak -
Yes.
But I got sidetracked by a full desk.

I suppose, in retrospect, I feel guilty for all of the things I recycled and threw away.
At the time, though, it was amazing.

The previous teacher chose to leave her desk completely full.
And I mean COMPLETELY.
There were trays of pushpins, mounds of pens, bags of rubberbands.
Bags of rubberbands?
Have I stumbled upon some unknown secret of teaching,
that requires you to have five massive ziplocs overflowing with rubberbands?

Oh did I purge.
And then,
I purged some more.

I had the thought that mom would be a little disappointed in me for all the things I was tossing away.
Because once when I as a bit younger and say not-as-wise I was walking with her and saw a penny head down and didn't pick it up because that's bad luck.
And she made me pick it up.
Cross my heart.
Let no penny go wasted.

But oh!
The things I threw away.
I stumbled upon the food drawer and had myself a bit of a gag when I spotted
this


and this.


Hoarding tuna.
And Salisbury steak.

For some strange reason,
I packed her up the tuna in a tub that previously homed children's books.
But the steak had to go.
It expired over a year ago.
Room temperature Salisbury steak stored in a desk drawer for over a year?
You're welcome lady.

I was just having a laugh with the assistant principal about the tuna,
and the bag of communion hosts I had found...

(sidenote a: he tried the hosts to see if they were stale)
(sidenote b: what is more sacrilegious: shoving a bag of communion hosts in your desk, eating one of those hosts as if it were a potato chip, or writing a post like this)
(sidenote c: they weren't stale)

...
when she walked in
and said
"I was just coming to clean out my desk".

I looked from her to the overflowing recycling bin,
to her,
to the garbage.

Where her steak lay under a pile of ice cream scoops.

I said something about it being hot.
And just as quickly as she appeared,
I was gone.

a new view

I'm looking for a new view. The view across my living room right now is of a dwindling living space - turned stage area for packing up life. I think I do this too much. In the past four years I have moved six times. I am getting too old for this.

I want a view that doesn't involve looking out an iron-barred window. That window, by the way, has recently been painted shut. From the outside. It's hot in here.

I want a view that will stay the same for more than ten months. This particular view comes with a monthly paycheck. Maybe a dog.

I want a view of a place that is close to my family. I like being in the loop.

It's a good thing I held off on the moving out process until now. I wanted to start two weeks ago. I've sold my couch, 4 tables, and a bookshelf. I am sitting on the floor. I might have jumped the gun.

But I'm excited for a new view.