Welcome, newcomers!

The lake that we live by sure froze over fast when winter came. Hm.

It's odd how every time I seem to "forget" about blogging, there's new followers just falling over my blog.

Hmm..

Well, I am gonna admit to you guys what I've done lately.. I've gone analog. I KNOW, right?
I think it's the weather (the winter that's assaulted us the last week) that makes me want to do nothing. I take my responsibilites, doing laundry/doing the dishes/showering/going to work/making sure I've got lunch at work/etc, but other than that? Not much. I feel like a bear that has gone into hiding for the winter. And the winter has only been rearing our asses for about a week. Now it's trickling from the roofs again. Come hither, spring!

Also, I've been falling back on my old missed habits and is currently queueing litterature that's gonna fill my brain with thoughts and make those wheels turn around something other than myself. Because only thinking about one self is really tiring. So 90's, right? But books RULE, MAN. They're quiet, doesn't wake you when you've fallen asleep with shrieky commericals and most importantly - you LEARN things!

Of course, this thing with books follow the same pattern as the rest of my life - I don't enjoy fiction at even one percent of how much I enjoy non-fiction. I haven't read a ficticious book in years (well, I do read Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy every other year). I know I should be reading all sorts of books because it's an excellent way of developing the art of writing and soaking up wonderful imagery and stories, but I just can't bear it. I get bored and fantasize about books containing colourful pictures of things found in the ground, seeing marks after people that lived thousands of years ago instead of just reading about some drawn character that systematically puts him/herself in a mess just to make up a story. Real life always trumps fantasy.

Of course this has made me, since as a child I discovered that I actually don't need to watch movies, a black sheep. Because who doesn't loooove to watch movies? Movies movies movies! Oh, this really touching draaaama, you have to see it! You haven't seen it?! You don't like MOVIES? Oh my god." and it has caused me problems with this whole hanging-out-with-humans-thing. Because at times in my life, I've gotten the choice of drinking heaps of alcohol or watching movies. That's apparently what humans do together. And I don't want to do any of it = social misscarriage. Oh, and the fact that I'm kind of invortvert doesn't help there, either.

I mean, I DO watch movies (it's impossible to deny Jurassic Park I it's awesome worth in movie history, for example) but not ALL FRIGGIN MOVIES THAT WAS EVER CREATED. Bf's the total way around. He watches movies, almost for the sake of watching movies. He likes movies. Lucky me that he also enjoys documentaries very much, which is something I can spend evenings with. Just watching documentaries, about this and that.

I don't even know why I'm like this, it's just gotten clearer with the years. Spending hours in front of my friends/boyfriends computer while they watch that friggin drama about whatever. Can't stand it.Oh, I also love crossword puzzles and jigsaw puzzles. I can "watch" a movie in the presence of those two distractions. But other than that, I very rarely spend time watching movies. I wish I loved all sorts of movies because people obviously really like it. But no.

But I will now, to restore some of you guys's faith in me, list some movies that I actually enjoy watching:
Jurassic Park (But really, we all know this is a documentary. Just a really perfectly filmed/cut one).
Monty Python's Quest for the Holy Grail.
Clerks.
Mallrats.
Dirty Dancing (I know, but I'm not gonna be ashamed!!! Because nobody puts baby in a corner!)
The old classical Poirot movies. You know the ones.
The old classical 80's Sherlock Holmes movies, with the man that looks like an insane eagle. Awesome.
Sleepy Hollow/Red Riding Hood/other things that crazy man has done.
I can also appreciate some movies for their sheer estetics, like The Return of the King.
Generally dark, mysterious and castle-y and crimey stories.
Boondock Saints. Had to google this one, apparently it's a common thing to google the words "irish brothers movie"..

Now my tech savvy session is at its end for this time. Now I will cuddle into bed with a book, where two very literate men are writing about how this country came to be, well, this very country. I've recently read a 68-page forum thread about this very topic (yes, it took like two months to get through it, holy crap archaeologists), so it fits in perfectly. GOD I love history.

G'night!

That kind of Friday.

Just a couple of minutes ago, I was sitting by the computer, going through old pictures of things I've experienced in my earlier years. I always reflect back with a certain amount of nostalgia, but with more melancholy. I don't even know why. I've always asked myself why I can't look back at my past with a sense of satisfaction or relief or happiness. There's always something shadowing the good times, and I dont even know what it is.

Lately, I've been feeling like I've lost myself. I look in the mirror but I can't seem to place myself anywhere. I'm just out there. Looking like a deer in the headlights at the things coming at me. Im never really at home, I'm never at ease and I don't feel that I'm where I should be. Funny word, this should. Thing is, I don't have a clue where this feeling comes from, because I can't think of anywhere special where I should be. Apart from with my wonderful fiancé, that is currently sleeping in the couch downstairs, fever ridden and slow, I can't think of anywhere where it would feel totally natural to be.

Maybe I'm just this way. Something's always gonna go missing, inspite of how perfect my life seems this very moment. A few years back, when I started tearing myself from the depression that had been keeping me in its claws for such a long time, I felt this way when I was happy. There was just something so empty and.. uncomplicated about the feeling of being satisfied, that I didn't know how to even handle it. Maybe its one of those times now. It's hard to grasp and even harder to come to terms with.

So instead of burying myself in thoughts that will have no conclusion, I decided to go to my room, prop myself against the wall, bring some chocolate with me and whip out the book my mom got me for Christmas. Fresh sheets, tasty candy and a dwelling in someone elses past. I think this should do it. Make my Friday night good instead of filled with lingering feelings of something that I cannot solve. Because mysteries in ones own life isn't quite as entertaining as others.

They don't even contain any candy like christmas stockings! Boo!

I've come to the realisation that I need to shave my feet.

Why, you ask. Well, it's like this. Every time I get up from bed/the couch/from sitting down, since I've started at Metal Co, my feet hurt. Like seriously hurt. Sometimes more, sometimes less. But, I also realised that since I'm not getting any younger, and is hopefully not sitting down a lot more anytime soon, it was time to let go of the youngster dreams of being able to cope with everything! Everything! And just give up. Pull out mom's old compression stockings and hope for the best.

They've worked out okay. I feel a difference, but mostly in the fact that I feel like I have this awkward secret under my pants and I'd probably rather get eaten by one of the dinos before admitting to using compression stockings. I mean, taste the word. Compression. Stockings.

Also, when you take those stockings off, you don't really take them off. You just remove them to live another day. Evidence:

Sorry for the yellowy bluey tint of the picture, I'll blame winter 
for being dark.

But what's up with these feet now? Well, you know how you pull up a pair of tights and then wear them all day long and then when you take them off, all the hairs on your legs have been bent the wrong way (up) and your skin is tender and sore for a while after you've freed them? I had no idea that the smidgeon of hairs on the tops of my FEET would be even worse! Yes. The hairs on my feet make my skin hurt when I pull the compression stockings off.

If anyone had told me as a teenager that I'd be this human by the time I passed 25, I would have cried.
Getting older and more "mature" and developing all these traits that grown up women and men have, isn't very much fun at all.

At all!

Yes. You're right. I suck in the bad way.

Yeah.... So I guess you know that I haven't followed through with the whole photo challenge, right? Well, it's because I suck. Also, it's because we've had the sucky boring lifewishdecreasing week at work. I seriously go into this apathy because it's so damn badly combined with me and my natural rhythm, Starting work in the afternoon and then working all through the night and then have to go to bed instantly but you can't really sleep until after 3 AM and still have to set the clock for 9 AM because you have to feel like there's at least SOME freetime in your life that's not involved in doing laundry, hanging laundry, stuffing the dishwasher, making lunch, showering, finding all your clothes for work and getting dressed. If there's been free time, there might even be some makeup involved.

Blah. Shit week.

My solution to just being angry and annyoing that entire week, is preparations. On sunday before the suckyness begets, I made all the lunches for work, all the lunches for the real lunch at home before work, I carefully gathered clothes, socks, underwear and shirts for me to wear at work so I wouldn't have to LOOK for it later, and I got up a little earlier than I use to. Tired, sure, but I at least feel like I have some sparetime.

And now it's over, and doesn't come back until the next time in the ever revolving cycle of work (UNIVERSE, I LOVE MY JOB LET ME KEEP IT PLEASE I'M JUST BITTER ABOUT THIS ONE WEEK MMMKAY?)

TGI.. SATURDAY! (because I did work all night yesterday, so tgif, it wasn't)

Photo Challenge, Days 1-12!

Yes. Composite post. Will contain images from last year. Don't get upset about it, it's only in good fun!

Day 1: You
Well, because I'm a lazy fuck, I refer to the header picture. I've put down a lot of love and affection in that picture, and I think it speaks my language quite well.

Day 2: Breakfast
Breakfast? Seriously? The only breakfast I've eaten the last.. six weeks, was when mom was here over christmas. Otherwise, I wake up around lunchtime and then I have lunch. Not breakfast. No wait! I actually have a picture of the christmas breakfast! Wait.. Fine ass quality moose/elk/whateveryoucallit sausage. Luxury!

Day 3: Something You Adore
I can't not pick my dear little estranged kitty. She lives on a different location because I'm allergic (sob) but I get to see her now and then. She remembers me every time, and that always makes me happy.

Day 4: Letterbox
Our letterbox is in weathered plastic and ugly, so I won't make the extra effort on capturing it on camera.

Day 5: Something You Wore
RIP, pretty pretty purple fake Converses. I miss you!

(It's not called Oak Grove for nothing)

Day 6: Makes You Smile
My dear fiancé (god, it sounds so gay).

Day 7: Favourite
Hmmm, what kind of favourite.. Well, I'll use the favourite breakfast for my birthday. Carrot cake with perfect topping and fresh yummy sammiches with "liver paté " (it's TASTY! I promise).

Day 8: Your sky

Day 9: Daily Routine
You mean scrambling around the house for an hour looking like a corpse, looking for my fatty pants, before I even wake up a little mentally? I'm sparing you that picture.

Day 10: Childhood
I currently have no pictures of my childhood. There's a bunch in a box, somewhere.

Day 11: Where You Sleep
Blah, messy bedroom with white walls and still questionable interior decorating. Let's skip that one for now.

Day 12: Close-Up
These candles are AMAZING. As usual with glitter, there's no way to capture their real awesome prettyness on camera. This was as close to their true nature as I got.

Fridays, huh?

Throwing the chocolate on the table and shoveling the wrapper in your mouth is not the way to go when trying to enjoy a obviously unfocused evening at home.

Just so you know that.

In this post: exclamations!

FEERNANDOOO!

While surfing the intarweb with the music divinities ABBA blaring in my headphones in our home "office", I find this:

I feel like doing it. I've already missed 12 days which sucks, but I guess that only gives me an excuse to collect pictures that I've already taken this month and try and squeeze them in, right?! Also, PHOTO POST? RIGHT? What's better than a photo post?!

..

Anyways, I'm doing it with a little creative spirit because you will for instance not get to see this pretty face, but I will make it up to you. At least try. I know I know, I assure you guys that I'm doing it for YOU! 

You should take on the challenge too! And tell me about it!

But, to the important bit: There's apparently 89 people that has had the good sense of taste and added me to their following-lists, and I just wonder, WHO ARE YOU GUYS? Tell me! I'm curious about every single one of you. Where do you live, come from, work with, mate with, play with, drink, eat, call your pets, find me?? WHO ARE YOU WONDERFUL PEOPLE? Come back here, I mean you!

Voluez vooooous!

Ahhhhh! NOW! Gimme now! Uppercase writing!

SO MUCH TO SURF, SO LITTLE TIME!

And here I sat for a couple of days towards the end of the christmas holiday and were all like "I'm bored. I have nothing to do." and BAM, within 40 hours of the real life starting again, I realise that scrapbooking exists. Now, I know that it has existed for a LONG time, and I've been working on my collection of papers, scrambly bits and pieces, glitters, minature stuff, pearls, vintage looking papers and all that kind of stuff, but yet, I just couldn't come up with anything more to do with it. I saved it all for the day when inspiration would come like a slap in the face. Roamed stores after pretty things while bf asked me what I would do with it.
"I dunno. Something pretty!"
He just looked at me with this "mad woman" look and slowly made it for the door, sitting himself down on the bench outside to surf the latest computery stuff. Stereotypes? Not in this family!......

Anyways, that moment when I realise what to do with my collected goods that I've been waiting for, that moment is now. Well, three hours ago. When I found vintage looking papers littered with copper metallic paint on the local fiddlystuffbotique. I skipped home and stroked the papers gently. Though about what I would do with it. I've had these plans for a wall in the upstairs hallway since we moved here, but bf looked at me funny when I said that I would probably plaster the whole thing with pretty stuff. Psch. He needs a kick in the butt to get him further out of his little box and realise that a wall filled with gems, glitter and vintage looking stuff is GOOD. GOOD!

Also, this whole surfing the internet while shrieking "THAT'S SO PRETTY, LOOK BF! LOOK!" makes time fly so fast, and soon it's time to go to work again. Ie, wait work out so I can go home and surf some inspiration and then (probably) build myself a very pretty little blinged up vintaged owl. You heard me. Owl. Those are great, aren't they? So cute and in so many different shapes and forms.

Also, don't tell bf I just spent an unordinate amount of (at least it's my own) money on an order containing brown and coppery and bronzy colours and glitteres, distress inks and PRETTY THINGS.

I can just feel that friggin lost creativity throw itself into the world again. I've missed it. Years of being REALLY broke/having too much to do in school really puts a stamp on creating things (that is not like gift wrappers on wardrobes). Eep.

Gotta get dressed.

Now that that's done, I don't need to be stupid more this year.

It was late at night. I was bored. Surfed around on the internet and got inspired by all these hot ladies with happy coloured hair, tattoos and plugs in their ears. I want to have pink and purple hair again, I shout inside my head. Two hours pass.

I stare at myself in the mirror. Dangit.

You know what happens when you try bleaching parts of your hair that has been dyed with henna more than once?
Nothing.

You know what happens when you try bleaching parts of your hair that has been dyed with henna once?
It goes yellow. The ungodly straw yellow. The strands fold into your orangey browney hair and makes it look like real crap.

But you know that you can always throw some henna on top of it and it will disappear, right? Oh yeah! Pakistan hasn't delivered. There's no henna. There hasn't been any for months. The only reseller hasn't got a clue when more comes in. I'm two steps out of my door, roaming the streets looking for someone that could sell me illegal and highly overpriced packets of henna that may had passed customs because I HAVE AN INCH OF OUTGROWN BLONDE HAIR UNDER MY ORANGE HAIR AND IT LOOKS LIKE CRAP GIMME HENNA NOW!

Dangerous, dangerous stuff to have at home.

Well, I've always said that the winter holiday is for doing stupid stuff, and now that I can't have sex with my stalker, flirt endlessly with random people I'm sure I can get to make out with or just randomly travel to Foureyes and make a fool of myself in the big city, I have to do something at home.
Unfortunately, I had bleach at home. And dye.

Also, to make things worse, I chose to experiment with a purply pinky dye. Not potent enough to stick to all my hair, but only parts of it. So, now the outgrown natural blonde hair is purple, the strands are pink, orange, yellow and brown. It looks FANTASTIC. Also? I bleached the area around my face, making it impossible to hide. I rock! Now, I'm just thinking about dyeing it all purple just because, but since the rest of my hair isn't bleached (the upside and downside with not using chemical dyes for years), it'll just let it all go but some parts that will be pink. I have three days to solve this, then it's back to work.

THINK WYNN, THINK!

What's up with this 2012?

Everyone's writing all these "this happened during 2011!"-posts and I'm like "I wanna be like EVERYONE ELSE so I'm doing it too!"

Well, as a matter of fact, this year has presented a few things. We got engaged and bought a house.
The end.

No, really. That's about it. I got a job, of course. A job that I have four weeks notice on (neverminding the contract I have, I can still lose it with four weeks notice) and as the world economy is declining, so is my faith about keeping it. We'll see though. At least I'll be unemployed and living here instead of drifting restlessly around St Aldus looking for anything pretty to look at. Warning, if I lose my job, I will probably be posting A LOT of pictures of water here. Just because I will have to dampen my sorrows by walking along the lake shore all day long. Pretending that I'm not in a pickle, that bf has to ride to work that half hour one way alone twice a day, or that we'll have the least impressive life ever just to be able to keep the house.

BUT! I also became an aunt (again), a little girl that I am godmother of now. I'm not really sure that the church should trust me on that one, btw. Hello blasphemic metal music and paganism.. I'll teach her the correct ways, don't worry. Oh, and my sister doesn't read this blog. MOHAHAHAHA.

Also? Foureyes got engaged. Islander got engaged. Northener is having a baby. Two of our couple-friends here had babies. Three other couples got engaged. Getting ass drunk and dancing has been replaced with drinking coffee, playing games or having dinner together. 2012 may be the most grown up year of my life. In other words, time to get that pierced lip (the bottom lip in my face, pervs) and getting back on that pink hair. Tattoo session booked. What else can I do to reclaim my youth? This whole being in a relationship thing really doesn't work well with teenage rebellion. Of course, I have to point out that neither tattoos or pink hair is part of teenage rebellion for me, even though my father really hoped it would be. Ten years ago he asked if I hadn't outgrown that yet. Well...

Also. Wedding? Weeks go by without us talking about it because we really just don't want to plan this whole thing. It feels.. way over our heads. Like seriously too much work and money. If we get married and only include family, I still have to scrape together somewhere for my side of the family to live, ie 15 people. Minimum. Sigh. So, eloping? ELOPING! But what if my mom gets disappointed? I hate disappointing her, even more so know when I really don't know how long I get to keep her.

So this will probably be one of the most chaotic years of my life too. Changes man. Changes. Time to pull that cover over my head and not look out until it's 2013. Would that help?

Maybe it's a good thing that it's all pressed into seven days of pure DO'S AND DON'TS.

Oh. Am I the only one that's glad that christmas is over? Kind of sort of? I mean, all the tension and all the "DON'T GET SICK!" and all the "we need to.." and all that jazz. Gah.

This year, everyone got sick. There was no joint christmas because my brother got sick, my three nieces and my nephew got sick and bf and I got sick. Everyone stayed home. Sort of weird but also just fine, because hanging out with sick, tired kids isn't exactly my idea of having a peaceful time with fever raging through my system. The time when I have to take care of screaming noisy little people while feeling like death myself, is coming closer every day. Don't need to skip those last years of freedom, right?

So, we stayed home. Also, still no snow. We had a small, quiet, three-people (mom) dark snowless christmas in our house. Went to bed at 10.30 PM. Got up at 10 AM. It was perfect (considering the circumstances). We put all the soda that was leftover because we were to bring it to our joint christmas, on the patio. It wasn't even cold when we drank from it later, because it's warmer than in a fridge outside. So weird.

Now, it's all "DON'T GET SICK!" and "we have to.." and "we gotta" and "I have to paint the kitchen" and "don't forget!!" and blaaaah for new years. Hosting dinner. People are coming. Gotta make a three course dinner to satisfy 10 adults. Gotta clean the house and paint the kitchen and buy that food and don't forget anything and borrow chairs and set things up and move the christmas tree without breaking it and sort things out and prove to everyone that we're not the messiest couple in town and yes, we can make our home work evey though we "have a lot of stuff". I'mma wear false nails (LEOPARD PRINTED BABY!) for the first time in seven years and tomorrow I have to try to put on false lashes for the first time ever. I look like crap all up in my head because there's offically no henna to be bought (WHY GAWD, WHY?) and my haircut is extraordinarily boring. And I need to pretend that I have fancy new years clothes on but it's really only my usual red jeans and a top and I need to figure out a fun makeup so I can put on my fancy face instead of just my daily face. And we also have no idea if we're even gonna get to see any fireworks, because we, well, don't know anything about the new years celebrations here in Oak Grove. No pressure, peeps. Oh, and I'm making banoffee pie for the first time too. I have no idea what it tastes like, I just know it looks good. Quite like myself actually. Hurr hurr.

It's a good thing that I have a couple of days after new years off work, so I can REST from all this holiday stuff. It's tiring for a couchpiggy like myself.

It grows up so fast, it's almost ready for college!

But let's not dwell over the lack of love this house has experienced before we got here! Let's instead dive deep down into the world of christmas decorations, feel the musty smell of the glühwine and gingerbread and imagine that Santa breathing down your neck as you run down the street trying to find that one leftover christmas gift to your damn spoiled nephew that already has everything you could ever think of but you still have to get something that will be recieved with a chilled "thank you" as its placed on the four feet high pile of christmas gifts that is churned out during an intensive 30 minutes of "Merry christmas to Nephew, From grandma" after which you get to clean up all the mess so the dog alternatively the 10 month old niece won't devour the gift wrappings or the pretty, metallic strings used to decorate them because that would like totally ruin christmas for everyone. Oh, that's not the spirit of christmas? No? Well that's weird, I could swear it happens to me every year.

MERRY CHRISTMAS/HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE! 

We're on our way fixing all this. Just gimme time.

So, we moved in. The first days we only worked on the wallpapers and slept, climbed over the piles of furniture, put up wallpapers, climbed, yeah you know. Chaos. And, damn, this house is NOT soundproof. And after getting down and dirty on the couch in the living room, we concluded that we have to move the huge mirror in the hallway to another place. I'm pretty sure that the neighbours have seen at least parts of us naked from the yard. Tip people, watch carefully where your reflections show. The shower downstairs has to be fixed because it squeals loudly when one is taking a shower, leading to me only showering upstairs in the bathtub. Oh, and we also had to break loose parts of the kitchen floor to get the old non-functioning dishwasher out (we did know that is was crap because they told us, but that it was impossible to get out? No.). Tip: DON'T LAY DOWN NEW FLOORS WITHOUT CHECKING IF THERE IS STUFF THAT GETS BUILT IN THAT SHOULDN'T BE BUILT IN!

But now, after a month, it's just fine. There's stuff that has to be done, but I'll just go into it with the more we do, the more the house is ours kind of attitude. I wanna cover the entire upstairs with carpet to dampen some sounds, just gotta find the ugliest most 70s style crazy coloured patterned carpet there is, and install it in the hallway. It's gonna be so awesome! People are gonna be all "holy shit, that reminds me of my grandmas basement" when they see it. Also, we taped the loose windowsills back onto their consoles (seriously people) furnished, pimped and puked up all the Christmas decorations and now, we love it. It's cosy, it's us, there's big windows in the livingroom that are framed by the strong chocolate coloured wallpapers, that allow for laying around inside while watching the stormy weather outside. Makes it extra good, ya know? The kitchen is red instead of baby blue (I will never understand this "light colours makes it feel bigger" crap. Bigger? Yes. Alive? No.) and getting ready to get all kinds of pimped up, and we've settled in fine.

But, as promised and long awaited (it's really hard to upload images when there's no intarwebs in the house) pictures of some of the WTF's of this house.

Painted over plaster.

The "let's not take down the lamp before painting the ceiling" complete

with shadowy profile of yours truly in the reflection.

Real gingerbread style work there, especially around that corner, right?

And.. my favourite. I do not think words are necessary here.

Need is the mother of all solutions.

Event: My inherit spidar (spider radar, for those of you don't swing with my lingo!) discovered a dot clinging to the wall under the stairs. You know, one of those dots that really are dots until the spider decides to walk away, then they flap out to an inch long and an inch wide. Ugh.

Problem: When bf reached in behind the couch to vacuum it up, it almost didnt join the airstream because the vacuum bag is apparently so full that it doesn't suck pretty much at all.

Solution: Tape the muzzle of the hose shut and deal with it tomorrow.




Procrastination? Nooooo!

Thursday report.

Bf's surfing cars again. Cars that are exactly like the one we already have, but five years younger.

Me? Finished off the cake and having a hard time deciding whether to sit here and surf or go downstairs to watch TV while I surf.

Damn all these choices!!






Edit: Also, reading blogs. You know how some people complain about the how technology has taken over our world when they don't even have to bother looking out the window in the morning to know that the first snow has fallen? Well, I could also say this: THEN DON'T CHECK FACEBOOK BEFORE YOU GET UP AND LOOK OUTSIDE IN THE MORNING! See? Problem solved. It's all what you make of it, bitches!

Yawn

Is it a sign of getting older that you go to a christmas dinner with your co-workers, go home at 10 PM and look forward to surfing the wide web (that you've only gotten to enjoy for three days the last 35 days) and when you sit down, you instantly almost fall into a coma. Squinting, sinking down lower and lower in your chair, feel the clicky finger getting less and less agile. Reading posts with sentences longer than two rows almost makes you start dreaming. It's 10.30 and I'm ready for bed. I can't even imagine going out and even less getting drunk or tipsy somewhere.

Also, bf really likes when I look proper and, well, older. Not older-older, but like.. grown up-fancy. In my knitted, mid thigh long, sleeved christmas dress, he thought I should stay home instead of going out. To.. look at me? Well, it's all up to the future to see if he really likes totally grown up women, or not.

I really should write the sequal about the house, but I'm too tired right now. Bf's bringing me red bull and cake, that ought to cheer me up. Put a little sugar in it, so to speak. Probably will be in bed before midnight inspite of his efforts (and he's only helping me to stay awake because we're working the graveyard shift soon). Man I'm lame.

No wait, I take that back. This has to be some kind of middle-youngster aged crisis that my body is going through, because hell, those middle aged men and women at work are SO MUCH TOUGHER than me. Seriously, I could never keep up with those people. Partying until 9 AM and being all kinds of crazy. I get tired from even thinking about it. Ooh, cake!

Second impression.

So, after a night filled with anxiety and worry, we quite easily concluded that the smell of smoke was the most acute problem there was. Apart from the sewer smell that we told ourselves would go away if we just used the bathroom, there wasn't actually big problems around the house. Aesthetically displeasing, yes. Real issues? No.

After we checked closer and saw that that window does shut properly but the handles don't, we tore off one of the TWO isolatory rubber strands stapled around the front door so it actually shuts (seriously people, how effin lazy are you? Couldn't just REMOVE the old one and replace it?), changed the lightbulb on the porch, tore the leftover closets to pieces and threw them away, adjusted the toilet upstairs so it doesn't have water running 24/7 (SERIOUSLY, HOW LAZY ARE YOU?), put back the fronts on the bathtub because they could apparently not work out how the hell to put them back, fastened a loosely hanging cable on a wall (s.r.s.l.y.), brushed all the cobwebs off of everything, oiled a crazily squeaky door (I mean come on people) scraped paint off of fixtures and everything, adjusted another door that touched the floor so it didn't anymore, and then it was time for the wallpapers.

Those damn wallpapers. If I don't have to see another roll of wallpaper ever, well I'd be quite sad, but in theory, I'd be happy. There were layers that probably dated back to the 80's, haphazardly smeared with plaster that we still can not understand. When we sanded that damn plaster down, there was nothing on the wall witnessing on why they've done it. No joints, no holes, no tears, no nothing. Just meaningless plastering that made it impossible to remove that wallpaper. All but one layer came down after days of going directly to the house after work, leaving way too late, sleep, work, repeat. Along the ceiling all of it came down in chunks that were no longer at all attached to the walls (years of not gluing around the edges properly?) and in the hallway, I could just break the entire shell down. I was left with the bare original board wall, with no effort. Right. When I scooted around on the floor, scraping off that damn plaster that was everywhere, I suddenly felt a discreet breeze. WTF?

I put my hand up to confirm what I thought to have experienced, and I had been correct. There was actually air coming through the seams of the wall where it met a vertical beam. Air? Where did that air come from? Upon closer inspection, that air smelled of nicotine and cigarettes. WTF? Was it so infused in the walls that the space between us and the neighbour actually fanned nicotine winds into our house?

Two days later, after we plastered that shit up (I have finger-plastered every damn conceivable corner/seam downstairs) and painted it with a silicone cover-that-dead-body-in-your-wall-up-paint, we realised where the smell came from. The neighbour. Sitting in his kitchen, smoking away. Yuck. But you know what? Not even a hint of the disgusting smell since then. He's been smoking away in his disgusting house and we haven't felt a thing. HAH! Everything felt so much better.

Then, we moved in.

First impression. Landed hard.

So. That day. Got up at 5.30. Worked all day. Then bank, money, former owners, keys. Sped away to the house to see it as ours for the first time. Got there, dark and wet outside. Unlocked the door and stepped in. The smell of cigarette smoke hit us like a slap in the face. Okay.. I'm sure it didn't smell of smoke when we were here the first three times? Right? WHY DOES THIS PLACE SMELL OF SMOKE? Stepped into the bathroom on the bottom floor. It smelled strongly of sewer. Met the eyes of my dear fiancé. It was a look of worry. Flushed the toilet, sink and shower to refresh a little. Walked upstairs and looked around. The rooms was roomier than we remembered, but.. What are those assholes of gargantuan closets doing there? They're still here? We told them to remove those fuckers? Texted and they let us formally know that the closets were not their problem anymore. Nice until they get their money, right? Okay, so rig the lights on the bottom floor and inspect the wallpapers. Need to tear them down or just wallpaper over those mothers? But.. you can see the lines all over the place from underlaying layers of wallpaper? So, just tear them down then. Threw everything into the house, from ladders to spatulas to paint to wallpaper to speakers to Red Bull in order to even survive the evening.

Walked into the empty, dark kitchen. Looked out the window. What have they done?! They've exchanged the ordinary lightbulbs on the yard to energy saving lights. Stone cold, bluish white light spread across the houses, luring forward the least pretty features of everything. A graveyard is more cosy at nighttime than our yard is. It was still smelling of cigarette smoke in there.

As we lit the worker's light in the living room we realised that they've mounted plain, plastic, L-shaped baseboards around the whole room, and also, the whole house. Those seriously have to go. The wallpapers that we intended to keep are peeling off? That window doesn't close properly. The front door is really, really hard to close? Like having to bodyslam it to get it to shut-hard. They brought the wallmounted hatstand with them? The light on the porch doesn't work. It did when we were here two weeks ago. The ringbell doesn't work either. So the door on the freezer is mounted on the wrong side so we have to stand out in the hallway to reach into it? They've not taken down any fixtures when painting so there's white paint on EVERYTHING. Every light socket, every wall plug, every handle, every beam, ceiling lights, white paint slathered. They've reconnected the newer washer and dryer to a normal wall plug instead of the actually intended fuse, which means that the fuse for the kitchen and hallway blows when we use them at the same time. They've also actually painted over a bent nail in the ceiling in the hallway. It takes one second to remove a friggin nail! There's cob webs everywhere. Apparently they've been a spider liberal couple. Times change, man. The curtain rods are barely hanging on the severly beaten up fixtures in every room. Hot damn, people can stare right into the kitchen AND our upper floor because of a tilted walkway we hadn't notice before. They've painted the bedroom walls white (and slathered it all over the electrical fixtures) and didn't bother to remove that huge fluffy bubble that they've also poked a hole in in the middle of a wall.

This house has not gotten ANY love from its owners in a long time. Poor house. I understand why they moved. They've used the least time costly, cheapest, dodgyest, most foul looking solutions to everything.
E. V. E. R. Y. T. H. I. N. G. And dude, I've been living in DORM ROOMS for years with seriously dodgy solutions, and I still find everything they've done to be crap.

We started around the living room, to remove window sills and sockets and those god awful baseboards and threw them out while brooding on the cigarette smell. Seriously, you can't live in a house that smells of cigarettes when you're not a smoker. Also, we knew that the previous-previous owner had been a smoker, and that the couple that we bought the house from had to redo everything when they moved in (that's also how we know who did all those evil things to the house). Could that poison still be in the walls and seep through into the air if we don't air it out constantly? That's unacceptable. What the frick to do?

The ride home, on the pitch black highway, was a dead silent one.


To be continued..

Finally! Our home is almost complete!

I cannot BELIEVE I have more followers now than I did before I lost the internets. Maybe that's a real big, blinking hint of what my blog should really be about. It's already about nothing, but maybe it should be about seriously nothing?

Anyways, NOW WE'VE GOTS THE INTERNETS! It only took about three weeks longer than it was supposed to. Of course, the first thing I choose to do, is blog.

I am gonna tell you about the house. I know you've been waiting IMPATIENTLY for me to return and give you the epic tale of dissapointment, happiness, change, fear and dude wtf who does that?

In the next post, of course.

In your face, bf!

We have a visual. I repeat, we have a visual.

You see, since we decided to bid on and buy this place, I've had an inkling that because it is so close to the water, we should be able to SEE it from here. Bf was always Debbie Downer and were all like "no there's so much stuff in the way" and "no, there houses in the way" and just "I don't think so. Don't get your hopes up."

Peeing in my parade usually doesn't pay off for him, but old dogs doesn't learn, right?

Anyways, today I decided to finish this discussion off. I had made one of the rooms upstairs walkable and took the opportunity to look out the window to see what could hide itself out there. And what did my eye spot?! The motherfucking lake baby!

Yeah so I had to stand on the bed, squeeze myself against the window and pull out the binoculars and direct it through and past some houses and through the vegetation that is currently leafless, and then squint to see a surface in the exact same shade as the sky, lined with sea weed and small trees. But BAM! Lake view!

This place just keeps getting better.

What? It's the small things, right?