another reason to hate Target, plus some random silliness

Please don't hate me -- I ordered it before I read about Target's political fuckwittery. (And yes, it's taken me this long to open it. Your point is ...?) So now that that's settled: check out this noise:


Gee, guys ... way to use efficient, earth-friendly packaging. Douche nozzles.

(Just to settle wtf that thing is: it's a shoe rack. Current Score: Last 2 moving boxes in the bedroom: 0, Me: 1.)

And from the Dept. of Proof That Everything is Political, I bring you a literal transcription of texting 'twixt me & the Mr. yesterday:

Me: I went to the free neighborhood poo pile*, and they were out of poo!

Him: I hear the Tea Party rallies are full of shit. Try there.

I heart him.

* the City of L.A. provides free mulch. Or at least, it did. It looks like the Budget Crisis has gotten so bad, they literally can't give us shit anymore. Thanks, Mayor Asshat.

breaking in the house

We've survived a couple of firsts recently:


1) Our 1st House Guest: His Mom came to visit for a long weekend. We had a blast -- although we learned a very important lesson about the movies in the cemetary: If the line is off the lawn, you won't make it in before dark/ in time to enjoy your picnic before the movie starts. And if it's wrapped around the corner onto Gower, abandon ship. (Side note: the movie that night was "Airplane!" ... wtf, people? Freakin' "Airplane!" brought out the hordes?)

We did some other cool stuff, too -- she even came & took one of my classes. (And loved it -- phew!) And we now have an air mattress that fits quite nicely in the office/ 2nd bedroom, so we're primed & ready to accommodate future comers.

2) Our 1st Dinner Party: Our friends L. (who was Best Man in the wedding) and his girlfriend S. came to hang for the evening. I managed to cook up a meal that didn't a) set off the smoke alarm, or b) kill anybody, so I'm calling the evening a success! Also, I finally managed not to come in last in the game of Scrabble we played after dinner -- the Mr. has a really annoying habit of always kicking my ass. But with non-family members involved, I came in 2nd! (Note to self ... write that down.) I suspect that the bottle of Glenlivet we were slowly killing while we played had something to do with leveling the field, but who cares? Victory-adjacent is mine!

Also: it appears that I do, in fact, still have some things to say about the house. So perhaps I'll keep this blog on topic for those purposes, and start a 2nd one for my cranky ramblings. Because I am pretty cranky. It just got a little out of hand yesterday ... probably on account of that whole mouth-full-of-blood thing.

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!!

stop the presses: we agree on something!

Actually, we agree on 2 things: 1) the kitchen, as purchased, was atrocious; and 2) these light fixtures:
As of today, the kitchen is the most un-changed room** ... BUT! after emailing him 15+ (at least) ideas for light fixtures, I stumbled upon the ones pictured above, to Our Mutual Delight. They're available at Shades Of Light (which is in Virginia, and therefore charges no sales tax in CA -- haha!! Screw you, Ah-nold & the Legislature!) and we're eagerly awaiting their imminent arrival via FexEx.

** why yes, I DID re-paint the entire house myself. NO, I don't need a hobby -- thank you.

Also, after talking to four (4!) contractors, two (2!) of whom deigned to flatter us with a bid, we're moving forward with our remodeling plans. Up next: a brand-new, shiny bathroom & LOTS of rugs to cover the hideous floors.

Oh, and some pics. Eventually. Really, I swear.

progress report

Okay, I promise to try to get some more up-to-date pics to post tomorrow ... but, in the meantime, here's some of what we've been up to:

The Bad:

No, really, I didn't want to just un-screw that old hardware. I much preferred using a razor blade to slice through 8 layers of paint (and I'm especially curious about YOU, oh Chooser of Acid-Trip Green) ...

The Good:
We both have a place to park;


We've removed the Gross/Tragic medicine cabinet from *the bathroom
(*awaiting further destruction)

the Ugly Kitchen Cabinets being carted outside. That's our handyman -- small in stature, but 18-feet tall in awesomeness.


Our shiny new outdoor light fixtures. They're replacing the Fuctard-Installed Non-Outdoor ones that our predecessors provided. Sadly, all the accompanying rust has been sacrificed on the alter of "WTF?!?!"

The Ugly:

Have you been paying attention?! ...

Good stuff to follow, as soon as I'm not too distracted to remember I need to take pics before dark.

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.

strange days

I feel like I'm living several parallel lives at the moment. Ever since the Mr. started working The Most Brutal Night Shift Ever (aka 11pm - 9am). First is my "normal day", where I tip-toe around the apartment getting ready w/o waking him, then go to work/auditions/whatever the hell else I do with my days. Second, I come home & we eat dinner together & chill. (He loves my cooking -- oh, the irony.) Third, I watch "Big Love" on DVD or read until I pass out, trying not to mind the empty spot in the bed next to me.

Strange days, indeed.

Also, I want to get a dog. And name him Kermit. So he can be Kermit the Dog.

new project!

(in which I discuss my transition from "obsessed with planning wedding" to "obsessed with finding a place to live", or We Attempt To Purchase a House)

Greetings, oh followers of this blog. If there are any of you left, given my post-nuptual slacking (2.5 months and counting -- woo hoo!) I am happy to report that my days are no longer consumed by finding affordable venues, caterers, et al. Oh no, children -- I've moved on. Evolved, even.

Now, my days are consumed with weathering the slings & arrows of entry-level Los Angeles real estate. Let the celebration begin!

Things I've learned thus far: when a listing describes the square-footage of a property as "tax assessor's data lists X", what they mean is "previous owners added onto this house without a) permits, b) taste, c) a moment's thought to how said addition would affect the property's resale value, or d) any shred of understanding as to how actual humans reasonably use their homes -- you know, for living in, and such."

Also, the favored building materials of the Great Unwashed are (in no particular order):
*stucco! because those 1910-built Craftsman homes look better without all that pesky wood

Or even better, a look I've dubbed "WTF-Chic"

*ceramic tile! on the floors/walls/anywhere you shouldn't have to clean or maintain ever again

(living room)

(bedroom)

*concrete! because we're not cheap, we're green -- you can't argue with 6000 square feet of concrete in leiu of anything that needs water, now, can you?

So far, we've put in offers on 2 places. The first one we didn't get ... we're in "back-up position". Which basically means we're hoping that by Saturday the other people's loan falls through. No schadenfreude here, folks!

And the second one ... well, the second one features ceramic tile throughout (in every. damn. room.), and concrete covering at least 80% of the lot. Also, the previous tenants absconded with the air conditioning unit, which should only cost $3-4000 to replace. And we've offered $14K over the asking price. We couldn't be more excited!

(all pics are knicked from public real estate websites ... if that turns out to be not-so-legal, I'll take 'em down)

wedding recap: ceremony readings

With a guest list of only 40 people, the Mr. & I wanted to keep the number of "attendants" to a reasonable number. (Yes, that's me adding the parentheses -- there are some things I just can't take too seriously. Like having people "attend" to us. But I digress ...)

The only problem with this was how to include as many people in the goings-on as possible. We had His Parents enter at the beginning of the processional, and both My Mom & My Dad walked me down the aisle. And we included two more of our friends by asking them to do readings. (Yes, the 2nd person reading is dressed as a groomsman -- he generously stepped into that role, too, for a friend who couldn't make it from the east coast.)

So: the near-&-dear people were in ... but what to have them read? My brain was glazing over at this point, so thankfully they both stepped up with suggestions. Perfect suggestions.

First, our friend T. read Shakespeare's Sonnet #119.
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

(We're both actors, so this was both lovely & extra-fitting.)

Then groomsman R. read "Oh, The Places You'll Go!" by Dr. Seuss. (I credited him as Theodor Geisel on the programs, so as not to give it away.)
Congratulations!
Today is your day.
You’re off to Great Places!
You’re off and away!

You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself any direction you choose.
You’re on your own. And you know what you know. And YOU are the guy who’ll decide where to go.

You’ll look up and down streets. Look’em over with care. About some you will say, “I don’t choose to go there.” With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet, you’re too smart to go down a not-so-good street.

And you may not find any you’ll want to go down. In that case, of course, you’ll head straight out of town. It’s opener there in the wide open air.

Out there things can happen and frequently do to people as brainy and footsy as you.

And when things start to happen, don’t worry. Don’t stew. Just go right along. You’ll start happening too.

Oh! The Places You’ll Go!

You’ll be on your way up!
You’ll be seeing great sights!
You’ll join the high fliers who soar to high heights.

You won’t lag behind, because you’ll have the speed. You’ll pass the whole gang and you’ll soon take the lead. Wherever you fly, you’ll be best of the best. Wherever you go, you will top all the rest.

And will you succeed?
Yes! You will, indeed!
(98 and ¾ percent guaranteed.)

Kid, you’ll move mountains!
So…be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray or Mordecai Ale Van Allen O’Shea, you’re off to Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting.
So get on your way!

(We're also both very silly.)

It was the perfect combination of "us" ....

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 ...

playing hooky

I'm supposed to be doing "real" posts about our wedding, but I'm distracted. A) We're trying to find a house, and it's just not sane out there, kids. At least, not in our price range. And B) I've been busy with Ahk-ting. For money, even. But I'll get to that eventually. For now, I just want to post silly photos that make me giggle.

Yes, babe, that's a much better use of the reception decor. Excellent work.

To be honest, I have no idea what's happening here ... there are so many options. But I love that Marija captured it. This may be my Christmas card this year. "Happy Holidays, and Don't Even Jest About Taking My Slice of Cake!"

My friends are awesome. Notice the lack of boys -- they were all hiding on the deck outside. Wussies.

Yes, we'll probably photoshop the panties out when we make prints for the parentals. Probably.

getting back into the habit

Okay, so in between sorting through thousands of photos & trying to decide what to call this blog after the recap posting is done ... I have a few more favorite pics to share.

Me & my hot-ass MOH, Our Lady of the Holiday.
The Mr. & I having a sweet moment at the post-ceremony dinner ...

... and a not-so-serious moment on the beach in Malibu.
I know I've been terrible about reading & commenting on so many of my favorite sites out there. I've got nothing remotely resembling a good excuse -- I've just been hormonal & sulking. But I still love you & I'm shaking off the cobwebs, I promise.

when I need to remind myself ...

... that having my picture taken when I'm not wearing make-up is not cause for alarm, I'm going to look at this photo. I'm pretty sure I cried every bit of it off during the ceremony. And yet ...

(Seriously -- what is up with that pose in the entry below this?!?)

wedding recap: the ceremony

We got crazy-lucky with the venue for our ceremony. There's normally a two year waiting list for the Palace of Fine Arts in San Francisco, but it's been undergoing a multi-phase earthquake retrofitting for several years. (The history of the POFA is a fascinating mix of art & happenstance -- it was never meant to be a permanent structure, but citizen's groups & philanthropists have banded together to save it several times. Those efforts continue to this day.) The previous phase finished early, which meant that it was available from mid-May through mid-August. Construction began again on Monday, so there won't be any more weddings there until at least late 2010. Like I said ... crazy-lucky!

This was the set-up for our intimate 30-person ceremony:

I was walked down the aisle by both by mom & dad.
I don't recall what I said at that moment, but it must've been funny.

The paper pomanders took forever to make, but really looked pretty.

Our officiant was a friend who's wedding we went to last year -- she's getting her master's degree in theology, and was thrilled that we asked her to marry us. Having someone who really knows us was wonderful.
Thank goodness she asked us to take each other's hands -- I was so emotional that I needed to hang onto him.

Part of our ceremony included honoring our parents.

Two of our friends gave readings.
This is our friend T reading Sonnet 119 by William Shakespeare. The groomsman on the far right, R, read "Oh, The Places You'll Go!" by Dr. Seuss. The fact that they came to us independently with those passages shows just how well our friends know us!

I've heard lots of people talk about how, after all the craziness of planning, the actual day just flies by ... but I felt incredibly present for the entire thing. The hugeness of the step we were taking, the love that we were expressing for each other, the people who were present to share the moment & support us -- it was almost overwhelming, but I didn't miss a thing.

We said our vows, exchanged rings ... and then we were married.

all pics except 2nd from bottom by Marija Thomas Photography

2nd from bottom by His Mom

first peek

I love this picture. And to be clear: I totally would've jumped, too -- but I was afraid I'd never extract my heels from the grass.

a moment of levity ...

... as I contemplate losing my sanity once & for all. (We're 10 days out.) Via text:

Me: the new hair lady has 2 puppies, 2 kitties and a bird!

Him: While you were there? Baby that's a pet groomers, not a stylist.

To clarify: I was at her home. But it still cracked me up. As in laughter ... not mumbling & drooling.

That's on my calendar for tomorrow.

To change, or not to change (my name)?

The Mr. & I got our marriage license two weeks ago, and while we were filling out the paperwork I was confronted with spaces for me to put "Current Name" and "Married Name". While I'd always thought I knew what I wanted here, I was suddenly gripped by a flood of "You mean I have to decide this now?!" Nothing like a little legally-binding document to make me question myself.

I admit that I probably have a more complicated relationship with this subject than most. First, my point against: I'm not changing it for professional purposes. I've worked for years to carve out the beginning of a niche in my industry -- no way am I going back to "who?"

Second, my points for: I hated my last name when I was a kid. It can be rhymed with far too many embarrassing things, and even occassionally employed as a verb. I was aching to be rid of it since age 6. (Yes this is probably the silliest of my reasons. But at the time it seemed terribly important.)

More significantly: I am the product of a divorce. Growing up, I was the only person in my house with my last name, and I can't imagine why I'd continue that voluntarily.

My fiance's family thinks I'm adorably retro on the subject -- both his mom & sister kept their maiden names. But the phrase "maiden name" has always stuck uncomfortably in my throat. Am I waiting for Robin Hood to come rescue me from a dragon? Talk about retro.

All of these thoughts swirled around my brain in roughly 3.5 seconds as I paused while filling out that government form. And then it hit me: I could have it both ways. I added my family name to the "Middle Name" box, and put his as the "Last Name." So I have two middle names now (or I will in 12 days).

The truth is, for all my over-thinking the subject, I've grown rather attached to my name. It's followed me around the world, and it reminds me of so many people I love who aren't here any more.

Besides, if it's good enough for Charlotte York MacDougal Goldenblatt ....

all the news that's *safe* to print

This past weekend saw lots of silliness on behalf of both Mr. UB & myself. I'm going to leave out a few details because we're not anonymous here, (hi, family members we told about this blog!) but what follows is most of what happened.

Chapter 1: Sunday -- his Bachelor Party.

credit

Mr. UB was kept in the dark about any specific plans. All he knew was when he'd be picked up (11:00 a.m. Sunday), what to pack (swim trunks, something nice for going out, and a change of clothes) and when he'd be home (5:00 p.m. Monday).

I got a text from him around 9:30 p.m.

Him: You're the greatest thing that's ever happened to me.

Me: Glad to hear it. Now back to your debauchery.

My first thought was that texting me mid-bachelor party was kind of a weenie move. My second thought was that he's my very thoughtful weenie, and that I appreciated the reassurance.

That's all I heard until the next day, when I got another text.

Him: I'm home. Remind me to tell you what happened to R's boots.

Apparently he was taken to San Diego for a planned afternoon by the pool & night on the town. Except that in a major fail, best man Double-L didn't keep an eye on the Mr's water intake. So after a little too much sun, he wandered upstairs & fell asleep. He woke up momentarily to text me, then passed out again until morning. The rest of the guys enjoyed a very nice steak dinner, but they were all in bed by 10 p.m.

Him: I think I slept through my bachelor party.

Yep -- that's my weenie. In his defense, they're going to try again next weekend when they go to Vegas for R's birthday, since I have to stay home for work.

Oh, and he says I'm not allowed to tell you what happened to those boots.