the great outdoors

When last we chatted, the yard was looking like this:Better than weed-a-palooza, perhaps, but still leaving "a bit" to be desired. Enter the heavy machinery!!
For the record: yes, the nice men at Home Depot will laugh at you, the scrawny blonde chick, as they help you load the giant roto-tiller into your Beetle. And yes, you "may" need to call the Mr. at work when you get it home & realize that you cannot get it out of your car unassisted. And it's definitely a bad idea to use your body weight to steer it, since it weighs considerably more than you do, especially when your job requires you to wear shorts most of the time and you have to explain repeatedly that "No, nobody is beating me."

BUT: once you take all of that into consideration, you have yourself a fun and noisy (Zöe was not pleased) way to make sure those weeds don't come back!
Why is it that when most people picture "woman gardening" in their heads, it involves someone genteel in a sun hat amongst lots of flowers, but when I try it, it involves heavy machinery that could maim a person? Also, why do my arms look like they belong on a dude in this picture? WTF?!?

Ahem. Moving along. So: after 2 days of tilling, during which both the Mr. & I pretty much exhausted ourselves in an effort to avoid paying another day's rental fee, we had clean tilled dirt. And my daily scouring of Craigslist began to pay off.
Thanks to D. in Hacienda Heights, who wanted his river rocks gone so he could plant some grass. (Free, folks -- my favorite price!)

And thanks to S. in Reseda, who's re-doing her backyard & wanted her Heavenly Bamboo gone. Bonus: it's not actually bamboo, which means it won't attack the foundation & sidewalk. Also: another freebie (plus a little manual labor to dig them out of the ground.)

That's the reverse angle.

And since I tend to get overly excited about things, I figured I may as well build some raised garden beds, where we can plant things that smell good and may even turn out to be edible:
I found the instructions online -- they're upside down here, waiting for me to dig holes for the corner pegs. And yes, the nice men at Home Depot will laugh at you as you cram a few 10'-long boards into your Beetle. Why does everyone keep mistaking me for a damsel in distress, I wonder? Not only am I not distressed (at the moment, anyway), but I'm pretty sure I don't even qualify as a damsel ....

Oh, and just because we're so effing proud of ourselves: We seem to have finished the kitchen!
Well, except for the stove & a table. But those can wait until we get our tax refund ... unless I find 'em for free on Craigslist.

my latest project, aka why I ache

Our fabulous little house was vacant for almost exactly a year by the time we moved in. Frankly, I was surprised that the yard hadn't gone more to-seed. To wit:

Our little patch of at-least-they-didn't-pave-everything on the right-hand side there looked pretty normal. Blank-slate-ish, almost. And then it rained.

It rained a lot. For a long time (for L.A., anyway). And this happened:

To use a local expression ... duuuuuuude.

Actually, we didn't think it was so bad -- at least it's green, right? Sure, we started to get flyers for landscaping services on our gate every day. Okay, fine, fair enough. But it wasn't a priority (hello, bathroom?).

Then we got a notice from the city about fire hazards & fines for non-compliance with brush-clearing ordinances.

Dammit.

The Mr. suggested acquiring a weed whacker from the nearby Home Despot. I countered that unless we yanked those babies out by the roots, we'd just be caught in an endless cycle of brush-clearance despair. (Side note to the neighbors I suspect were laughing at us during the Puffy Yard Stage: at least we don't park cars on it, n'est pas?) And just in case you were hoping (you? okay, me -- I was hoping) that said roots were shallow & not-so-hardy, behold:



In other news, I've discovered that gloves aren't for pussies ... they're for people who don't like bleeding.

Anyway: after a few days of "perhaps" overdoing it (where "perhaps" = lying in bed at night, unable to make a fist because my hands were so swollen), I produced this:

Also, it turns out that the city of L.A. will pick up as much yard waste as you can bag/bundle once a year for free! -- which is a good thing, because we are about 25 Hefty bags past our green trash bin's capacity. Why so many? Did I mention I did the backyard, too?

It's cool -- I know I'm insane.

I also have plans. They're modest plans, at least to start, and they involve scouring Craigslist daily for free stuff we can use to make a desert-friendly garden (because we live in the desert, folks. There are no lawns in the effing desert! Ahem.) For starters, I want to hide our lovely retaining wall with some of these:

photo credit

I ordered 4 "starter sized" plants, and seeds for some smaller ones like these:

photo credit

all at Amazon. As soon as they arrive, we'll see if I can manage to not kill them. Because it's important to have goals, kids. Write that down.

moving in, part deux

I was dreading today, because I thought it would be larger. And by "it", I mean this:

We'd just started getting a handle on things -- most of it was put away, except for the few boxes that were awaiting the return of furniture-they-get-stored-in ... and that furniture was in The Box.

Contents of The Box = everything that didn't fit into the apartment after we merged households. (It sounds so sexy when I describe it like that, doesn't it?) I was scared because I hadn't seen The Box before today -- it was packed (like a mutha!) by the Mr. at his old apartment. And I'd heard that it was the world's biggest game of Tetris ever to pack it. (See below -- it totally was.) But once I saw the actual size, and realized that if you took into account his mattress & box spring, dresser, bedside table, desk & bookcase (all items we were definitely needing), it couldn't be that bad. Right? Well:


Wow. Well played, babe. It's just like moving in all over again ... hooray.

We've already consigned the futon mattress set & lots of t-shirts he's managed to live a healthy & fruitful life without for the last 6 months to the Donate Bin. If they didn't already love us at our local Out of the Closet, they haven't seen anything yet.

la cucina

Ah, what a difference 2 days & a great big heap of OCD* make. To wit:

We seem to have a kitchen.

I can't believe how much bigger the room looks since we took down the cabinets that flanked the window. (And thanks to my friend M who suggested we put them in the garage, where we can still use them. Brilliant!) Also, it was totally worth the effort & caustic chemicals involved in getting rid of the "oak" veneer ... or as the Mr. has dubbed it, "fauk". Now all we need to do is hang the shelves above the window-adjacent counter. And buy a stove.

I feel obligated to show the reverse angle, for some perverse reason. Or maybe just to reassure myself that there's a whole lot of Project remaining.
Behold: left) the aforementioned shelves, and right) Future Site of Our Kitchen Table.

*I "may" have alphabetized the spice drawer. No, you can't see a picture.**

**Okay, fine:
(for some reason Blogger won't rotate the picture -- oh well.)

aaaaand we're back!!!

Phew! I was seriously turning a shade somewhere between cerulean & indigo there, waiting for our FUCKING INTERWEBS TO GET WORKING. Ahem. I'm sorry. I don't mean to swear. (Really. I try not to. I just suck at not-swearing.)

In case anyone has been wondering about the brevity/simplicity of my recent (aka post-move) posts, allow me to elucidate: We had DSL service at the apartment, with a small-ish provider whose service/pricing/support we adored. So naturally we tried to just shift our account with them to the new Owned By Us address. We had to wait 5 (five!!) days, because AT&T makes you suffer if you don't use their 'net service, for the phone to get "turned on". I guess the guy who had to flip a switch was busy that week. Anyway, once the 5-day time frame had elapsed: still no 'net. So we called, and were asked to wait ANOTHER 2 (two!!) days for a technician to come out & investigate.

Which he did. I was here. And a Very Large Dude, who was surprisingly friendly AND helpful, played with some wires outside the house (even though it was raining). And he diagnosed us as 3000 ft. too far from the DSL hub to get service. (Insert Lumbergh voice here:) "Greeaaaaat."

So: back to square 1. Call cable company. They'll come out in 3 (three!!) business days. Except that the 3rd day was Effing President's Day. (Stoopid Presidents.) So we just. finally. got. service. today.

(By the by, my interim posts were made via a nifty iPhone app called BlogWriter. I was very pleased with the results. Get the free version, unless you have the urge to post photos -- then it's a worthwhile $1.99. But you can't delete posts ... hence the bewildering stuff that I just got rid of, from my "learning curve" phase.)

At any rate: Howdy! I'm still here! And we still have no bathroom to speak of. (Epic Construction Timing Fail.) But here's what we do have:
An uber-fancy new light/fan, with switches that independently control both functions! And paint! And some bead board (slightly visible)!

A couple of fixtures! Including a rain bath shower head, and that awesome outlet-find light for over the (eventually) medicine cabinet.

And various kinds of flooring! That's the river rock stuff in the shower floor, and those (totally my fault, expensive-ish) penny tiles on the rest of the floor. Also, a better look at the bead board.

Now all we need is for the Effing Grout to dry, so we can re-connect the toilet. That's all I care to say about that ... except that NO, I'm NOT enjoying this part.

ch-ch-ch-ch- changes!

Finally! a few images of what's been up with Isabelle. (Yes, that's the house's name.)

First:
In the Living Room: out with the vomit-tan, in with the greige (dammit! I miss Domino) and blue ceiling detail. Drapery to replace awful vertical blinds = a work in progress.

In the kitchen, we've secretly replaced the "oak" cabinets with these:
Let's see if she notices! But seriously ... the Mr. just finished stripping the icky varnish off the doors, so the next steps are: sand, paint, & re-attach those.

And in the hallway, just a few adjusted hinges away from completion:
Our built-ins! Here's the doors that are awaiting their pretty satin nickel hinges:
Aren't they pretty, with their non-paint-encrusted hardware? I know!!

Oh, and referring back to this entry's title ... and just because her name rhymes with Bowie:
It's Zöe**!! Wearing the shirt we got her for her birthday. (She's the most fashion-y fashionista I currently know. Girl changed her outfit 4 times that night!)

{** NOT OUR DOG!! That's my friend Bayleigh's dog. Stop congratulating us -- we just bought her a damn t-shirt!!!}

More pics on the way -- the contractor is coming!1!!

on being distracted

Number of dishes in the sink: lots.

Number of days I've been wearing my husband's socks: 2

Number of days I've not made the bed, thinking that would make me change the sheets, only to exhaustedly fall asleep in the wrinkly, dirty ones: 4

Number of days since I washed my hair: ain't telling.

Laundry situation: He's out of underwear, and I've been getting dressed out of the basket full of clean laundry for a week, rather than putting it away -- which is why I haven't done another load (I need that basket to carry it to the laundry room).

BUT: the house is starting to look like somewhere I'd want to live. In reality, as opposed to that theoretical "as soon as about 50 things change" sort of way.

Pictures soon. But right now I have to go back to getting paint in my cuticles.

holy crap!!! we're home owners!!!

This entry was almost titled "We Have All Your Dead Spiders." Because, as it turns out, our new house (to which I repeat: !!!) has ALL the dead spiders.

So if you're missing any of yours, just let us know. We'll ship 'em back. Gratis.

ps: This blog will soon resume its regularly scheduled programing. Thanks indeed for staying tuned.

treading water

General status update:

*Closed the show. Don't know if we'll be back -- it's an amazing project, but theater is extra-hard right now. Stoopid economy, wrecking all our fun.

*Been sick all week. This always happens after I close a show. Despite valiant efforts to the contrary, apparently one cannot expend that much energy indefinitely. At least, not without consequences. Sneeze.

*Fired our first realtor. He's a nice guy, and a friend-of-a-friend. But he's also effing flakey, and we can't afford to only make it out 1 of every 3 times we have an appointment to see places. I'm afraid I'm gonna kill somebody (possibly somebody I like) without at least the appearance of progress.

*Had one friend give up & move home, and news that another friend's band is breaking up. Tough week to stay inspired.

* This helped:
I saw 3 deer on Monday. In Pasadena. Only one of them stood still long enough for me to get a picture, but there were 3 of them. Right there in the middle of the big bad city. I gotta figure -- if freaking Bambi can hack it here ...

The countdown continues: T minus 5 days

Actually, it's more like 4 days by now -- only 3.5 hours remain of this one. And I can't plan on getting anything done tomorrow, since I'm filming & my time is officially not my own. Which means that All Of This needs to happen Wednesday:

*print programs, and possibly begin assembly (Some of this could conceivably happen in S.F., but I want to have at least one prototype completed, to avoid complications.) (This would've happened today, but the template is printing screwy. The Mr. is performing triage as we speak.)

*finish making morroccan-style lanterns out of soup cans (I plan to enjoy this, as it involves hitting things with a hammer.)

*find a hairstylist who's available on Saturday (Yes, this got put off until waaay too late. I have 3 numbers to call in the morning, and I'm gathering supplies to do it myself. Eff it.)

*make labels for candy buffet & ceremony (This won't happen until the programs are ready to print. I try to limit my Kinko's exposure.)

*Separate out S.F. stuff from the Wedding Fort and prepare for transporting it north. (Mad love to T. who's letting us use her punk-rock soccer mom car!)

*Find something I already own that will work for the His-Family's-Friends dinner the night before (I know which dress, but the accessories are proving to be quite vexing.)

*Have conversation with Photographer Friend about specifics (I expect this to be a breeze -- I love this woman, and I've shot with her before.)

Honestly, all that feels pretty manageable. Well, the hair thing is slightly worrisome, but I can pull it off myself in a pinch. And I'm letting myself get some nice things from Sephora since I'm doing my own make-up. Also, my friend who works for Smashbox came through huge: I asked for a few samples, and the woman brought me real live product. Have I mentioned how much my friends rock?!

So .. what's distressing me these days, you ask? (You did. I heard you.) Oh, one or two things.
**A portion of this entry has been redacted. But I maintain that there are a couple of people who owe me an apology.**

On the flip-side of that, several people are being stellar. One of the g'men (who married our officiant last year, so he gets it) even agreed last-minute to be our "stage manager" for the S.F. stuff.

And my girls ... let me tell you about my girls. I wish I had $1000 to spend on my Maid of Honor, Our Lady of the Holiday, because she couldn't be more awesome. And my friend T., who's doing a reading during the ceremony, went with me for mani/pedi today and talked me off the ledge regarding Stupid Things That Boys Say. My girl S. is coming through like a champ with the potent potables, and I've had such love from His Sis & My Sis this week that I'm in danger of going all gooey on you.

So all in all: things are good. Unless Mr. UB finally snaps out of it (I keep waiting for him to turn to me & exclaim "Whoa -- you're crazy!!") it looks like this thing going to happen. Holy I-promised-myself-I'd-reign-in-the-swearing!

all the news that's *safe* 2.0

Chapter 2: Monday -- my Bachelorette Party

I picked up my MOH, Our Lady of the Holiday, from the airport & we grabbed a late breakfast, then bought a few supplies for the planned festivities. While we were in line waiting to purchase them, we noticed the lady behind us staring at the contents of our basket: 2 bottles of champagne, 6 trashy tabloids and 1 clinical-strength deodorant. So we looked at her basket: tofu, cucumbers, lettuce. She sighed & said, "Your basket looks like way more fun." That's just how we roll.

Next stop: the Mondrian Hotel in Hollywood, where Holiday had booked us waaay-too-nice of a suite. She kicked me to the spa where I got a super-yummy body scrub & massage (purrr), and by the time I made it out to the pool my friends P. and M. had joined us. (Life in L.A. would be so much more tolerable if I could spend all my afternoons chilling by that pool ... I should look into that.) We took lots of photos, giggled at the trashy mags, and got reprimanded by a pool boy for sneaking in an "outside" bottle of champagne. (Bat eyes & hand him empty bottle. "Sorry!") We also wondered why you would wear a flourescent green sweatshirt and then act like you didn't want to be recognized, Spike Lee? The best quote of the afternoon, by far, came from H. herself: "Unfortunately, he also spoke English."

We stayed until they closed the pool, then went upstairs to get cleaned up. P. couldn't stay for dinner, but she did tell us we HAD to order the butterfish. The rest of us agreed that "butter fish" sounded like slang for a person with a really slammin' body, who'd had something "unfortunate" happen to her ... anatomy. Trust me -- after the 2nd bottle of champagne, this was high-larious.

My friend K. was off work in time to join us for dinner, where we did order the butterfish, decided it was delicious, and still laughed like 6 yr.-olds about its name.

After dinner, M. had to leave us (she had an early start the next day) but we were joined by J. and a 2nd K. at a bar in Hollywood. We went there because a) it was close to the hotel, b) it's pretty cheap, and c) you can order cocktails in both a beach pail and a fish bowl. I'm sorry to report that there were no fish in the fish bowl ... at least, I really hope there weren't. But there was free popcorn, which I kept getting up to refill just to make people stare at The Boots as I walked by. We stayed until the lights came on, then went back and passed out in the hotel's much-too-comfy bed.

On the way to drop Holiday back at the airport, we sealed the experience with breakfast at Sprinkles cupcakes.

Thanks to each & every person who was able to join us & celebrate with me. It meant the world to me. I couldn't have imagined a more perfect day.

(And to everyone who couldn't make it because we did this on a weekday: stay tuned ...)

pictures of pretty things

I finally picked up my veil/hat/fascinator thingy (yes, that's a technical term) today.

It's pinned to my wig-styling head. You can tell that's not me because I don't have bangs.

And here's what was inside that pretty package from Etsy:

This little shrug is going to go over my shoulders, and hopefully make the top of my dress seem slightly less bare. Or, as my mom put it, less "too much boobs." Mr. UB claims there's no such animal ... all I know is I got to shop in order to split the difference. Hooray, diplomacy!

I'm glad I had these things to take pictures of today, because I needed a lift. Having something pretty & tangible on the wedding front is a nice change from all the kinda-still-feels-theoretical things, like getting bid after bid from caterers. Who, by the way, are all smoking crack, in my not-willing-to-go-into-debt-just-because-of-the-W-word opinion. (I understand paying a bartender to work our bar. But a flat fee to you, because we're providing our own booze? Yeah, good luck with that.)

Beyond that ... sigh. Just sigh. This stuff is getting to me. I'm trying very hard not to let it, but there you have it.

Fortunately, I have 4 different acting commitments between tomorrow & Sunday, so I'll be in a sleep-deprived haze & therefore distracted.

chuck it all

It's finally happened: Wedding Blog Burnout. I did next to nothing in regards to wedding planning last week, and could barely even bring myself to look at my daily roster of must-read wedding blogs. Perhaps because work has (finally) picked back up & I have less free time? Perhaps because I was still reeling from our best man's joust-a-thon birthday party? Or because I've just reached a saturation point?

The truth is, I don't really care. Mr. UB is being his usual amazing self & picking up the slack. And I've got scripts to study for three (3!) auditions tomorrow. I'm sure this is just a temporary lapse ... but forgive me, for not having a damn thing to say about the shindig we're planning.

Oh, and I'm trying to swear less, ever since I found out how many family members are reading this. (Hi, Aunt Lee!) Please feel free to follow my lead & blame Billy Bob.

two day planning "break"

If you can call it a break ... I've had two whole days of not doing anything related to researching/planning a wedding. Well, technically I bought a magazine, but I haven't had time to read it yet. I've been teaching at the studio (S Factor, which is my "other" job that brings in 90% of my income -- ahh, acting,) all weekend. Four classes yesterday (personal record) plus two today, and now I'm leaving for the theater. Good news: we "get to" do 2 shows tonight. Woo. Hoo. This is my relaxing weekend.

If I keep this up (and my bank balance says I will) AND add in planning a wedding, AND start looking for a place for us to live in wedded bliss (because he hates his apartment, and I don't have the closet space) ... I suspect I'll be dead within the year.

Tomorrow, I may not get out of bed. I'm sure as hell not getting dressed. I'll just lay here while The Cat walks on me & bookmark/print/three-hole punch things.