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.