Look, I know how it is. It's December 10. Only 15 damn days until Christmas. You're scared. Restless. And scared.
What are you gonna get all those people that you sorta like, but don't want to spent big Benjamins on? What if your friend is named Benjamin, and still you can't find it in your pocketbook to spent cash based on his name on him?
Here's what you're going to do. You're going to buy some Terribly Happy stuff. You're going to get it sent to you before the holidays. And you're going to make Benjamin thrilled.
Except you, of course. But then, you never win. So spend the cheese, baby. Spread the cheese on that love cracker we call the holidays.
I'm moved in. More than halfway unpacked. Art still isn't up on the walls, but my stereo stuff is set up, the bookshelves are packed with my hardbacks and paperbacks, and I've dusted off most of the new shelves and cupboards.
I have a new home.
It's strange. A little isolated being so far from downtown. At night, when I sleep, there is no longer the endless parade of cars zooming down the street where my duplex lived. Instead, a still, deep quiet punctuated by the occasional neighbor dog bark or the jarring crash of the icemaker. That damned icemaker. I'm not used to that yet. I keep thinking the cat knocked something over in the next room. I get up to go yell at her, and she's right there next to me in bed, saying, "Hey, whoah, whoah, I didn't do shit."
I got some really nice notes from people about my house purchase. Turns out it is a big deal to a lot of folks, and after all the work involved in closing, then moving, then leaning about this mysterious thing they call Escrow, I'm inclined to agree.
Buying a house is like going to war, only you don't get any medals at the end if you lose a leg and there's no honorary discharge.
So thanks for the kindness. In return, I offer a few pictures of my new place, along with some discoveries I've made about the joys of home ownership.
I figured I'd start with the messiest, least-done room first. The room has a really nice box window where you can set stuff or just sit and yell at the bed. There's also a vaulted ceiling with a pole in the middle, so the ceiling fan hangs from this precarious pyramid shape. Sometimes I pretend that if the ceiling fan light were upside down and I had a hole in my roof, my house would look like the Luxor.
Notice also that Cosa is on the bed. Don't get too comfortable, cat. Your litter and cat bed are in the garage now.
Oh, and those pink blinds? Not my idea.
The guest bathroom
Reason #1 to visit Omar: The massaging shower head found in the guest bathroom. I don't even care what you do with it. Stay in there for as long as you want. Just leave some hot water for me.
See that piece of wood lining the top of the closet? That's in every closet in the house. Know what it is? It's cedar. It keeps moths away. I had no idea. The people who owned this house before were hellasmart.
It doesn't get much more patriotic than this. I mean, it does, but then that can be silly.