Should Be Writing

Just met the nearest neighbors on one side. The wife made us banana nut muffins and packaged them up in shiny purple cellophane. The husband insisted we come by and ask for help if we need anything, anything at all. Really pleasant people.

And then it occurred to me, I’ve never lived anywhere where any of my neighbors bothered to make an effort. Sure, I’d meet them, but it would be in passing when we both happened to be outside at the same time.

Is it because we’re shy? is it because we don’t care? I don’t know. I’ve never been the old neighbor next door to someone new. When that does happen, I hope I’ve got the nerve to say hi, and the moxie to bake some cookies for them. Because I know that they will appreciate it and they might be as pleased as I was.

We’ve got a new phone number and phone service with Comcast. When I signed up for it, I requested that it be an unlisted number. Apparently, that unlisted status doesn’t apply to the companies that Comcast must sell your information to. Five or six different telemarketers have been calling MANY times a day, because when I say, “no, I’m not interested,” to them, it doesn’t clue them in to the fact that no, I am not interested. I’ve begun getting rude about it, and not even letting them speak because I’m actually waiting for some real phone calls from people I’d like to talk to.

I’ve added our number to the Do Not Call registry, so maybe in a month or so these calls will cease. The thing that surprises me about this marketing technique the most is that it must work now and again. Who buys things from these people?

We’re about to head out on our first big Ikea run. Shopping list:

3 Malm dressers
Dining table
6 chairs
Light fixture for the dining room to replace the cheesy chandelier currently in place. It’s one of those you see all the time with 5 little flame-shaped bulbs and tiny lampshades over each one.
Blinds. LOTS and lots of blinds. We have 4 windows in the dining room and 5 in the living room that need immediate attention. At them moment we’ve got old venetian blinds with crumbling plastic brackets and masking tape holding them in place. While masking tape is perhaps a novel way to hold up blinds, well, it’s not my preferred way.
Various rugs. Seems odd to cover up the wood floor I love so much with rugs, but I know I’ll appreciate it this winter.

I saw my first deer in the backyard. And plenty of squirrels. And chipmunks, so many chipmunks. So even though this isn’t quite as rural as my last place, it still feels very parklike. Except for the really busy road in front of the house. I should have expected that, I guess, when it showed up on Google’s street view. But that’s probably the only downside to living here so far. Well, that and the fact that we haven’t actually moved in yet and are always wishing we had this or that from the old house.

The sea spray and humid air at the Jersey shore give me a crazy, sea hag hairdo that takes days or weeks to properly smooth out again. And I’ve been at the shore the last few days. But it’s worth it. It’s a great place to visit when the weather is nice and just before schools finish for the summer. After that, fugedaboudit.

I’m done with the shore until September. Now it’s time for painting and prepping the new house. We’re spending most nights here now on an Aerobed. Our living room furniture consists of two lawn chairs, a small television on the floor, and a brand new black leather and cherry wood Eames chair and ottoman. Neither of us are allowed within 10 feet of it if we haven’t showered after painting.

Is that paranoid? Maybe not. I managed to create a gorgeous set of red footprints going all the way down the carpeted stairs. I’m just not careful enough. Fortunately, the stairs don’t matter, the carpet will be pulled up in the fullness of time. Still, though. Paint is pernicious and, yes, I’m just not careful enough.

I love this house. Did I tell you that before? It feels so solid, it doesn’t creak. It’s a bit noisy in its own way. I can hear people moving and talking upstairs when I’m downstairs, and downstairs when I’m in the basement. But that’s because of the hollowness of the house, and the wood floors. I don’t mind the echoes, it makes the house feel lived in.

I’ll try to take a shot of the upstairs that we’ve been painting while it’s daylight tomorrow. Remind me.

Today has been all about paint. We’re painting the entire inside of the house, so we bought a paint sprayer.

Look, if you want a paint sprayer, and you’re at Home Depot, and there they are, and they are shiny, and you think they’d save you days, maybe weeks of work, and they’d fit in your shopping cart, and they don’t seem that expensive, well….

Don’t do it. I mean it, don’t buy one.

Just use rollers and a brush or two. And if you don’t believe me, come over. You can borrow mine. You can HAVE mine. Let me know, it’s yours.

Because I’m just letting the paint dry in the tube, I care that much.

Just took a nap, and dreamed that we were in the new place, it was a wreck, the washer and dryer were not there, but all kinds of big old appliances and furniture were. Light fixtures were dangling, water was pooled in the basement.

I just have to quit watching those home improvement shows, you know the ones where a home inspector comes out and finds really bad things. Or the ones where a dewy eyed young couple are shopping for their first home, but they don’t have much money, so they have to see some real dumps. This dream was based on that, I think. That, and too many hot dogs.

I’m here at the condo and it’s late, and dark outside.

I get a knock at door, I’m told that next time my husband calls someone a fascist have him read this.

It’s the declaration of independence.

save me, this place is insane. goodnight.

My friend Alanna gave me some advice as to how to keep this thing going. She’s probably the most consistent blogger I know, managing to blog even when she’s at her most busy. I admire that, and I appreciate her tips.

At any rate, it’s summer and I feel more creative than I have in a long time. I feel optimistic, which I think the long cold winter robbed from me.

And so, to end this, a list. The things I’m spending my time on for the next few weeks:

1. Finishing my latest book
2. Painting my new house 6 different colors
3. Moving
4. Getting the condo ready for my renters
5. Worrying about money
6. Losing weight.
7. Wondering why I’m always trying to lose weight and never succeeding.
8. Flying to CA for a wedding
9. Completely remodeling my new kitchen
10. Figuring out what to do next, which probably means serious job hunt.

I was the second and last born child in my family. And lately I’ve been thinking about what that means in terms of any fame my older sibling achieves. I don’t doubt he’s worthy, but I do doubt he’s estimated my abilities as the equal of his. This is not an estimable frame of mind to be in if you are the older sibling. I think (not that I know, being always the second and last child) that being the first born gives you teeth and claws, ready to be called upon should number two or three threaten your dominance in any major way.

–24 hours later, and I have no idea where I was going with that. I think I had far too much sun.