Several important things must be noted before I talk about our house:
1. My goddamn Delete key is not working on this keyboard, so I must forge ahead, typos and all today, and fuck it. I understand that having my wireless keyboard refuse to delete things on my stupid blog is not what you'd call a serious problem, but that doesn't mean it isn't gonna annoy the fuck right outta me.
B. Speaking of which, I have learned today that doing a loving kindness meditation, where your centering thought for the day is supposed to be that you will be loving and, you know, kind, should not be followed up by immediately reading the New York Times wedding section.
I mean, seriously, there's one chick in there who I cannot believe has any sort of family, because no supportive person would allow that poor dear to head off into the pages of the New York Times with those eyebrows. It's like she picked up hot coals, thinking they were binoculars. Was she in some sort of waxing mishap? If so, I hope she sued. And if her people let her pose with those eyebrows, you know they ain't gonna stop her from marching down the aisle with those monstrosities, either.
This is what I mean about loving kindness and the wedding section. Deepak Chopra himself would not be able to combine the two.
4. And the waxing mishap reminds me of something I have been wanting to tell you for weeks. When I was back in Michigan, it was my cousin Katie-the-lesbian's birthday, and because mine had been the month before, and she knows how rich I am, she said, "Why don't we buy each other pedicures when you get here, as our gift to each other?"
So as soon as I got to her house, I was champing (yes, champing, LETHA) at the but
See. Fucking no delete key. Champing at the but. Am dying a little.
CHAMPING AT THE BIT to get my feet done, as I had held out so that we could do them together, and Pan was calling and wanting his hooves back.
"I usually go to W," said Katie, who is, you know, earthy.
"W?" It sounded fancy.
"The salon at Walmart," she said.
Honestly. How is someone this no-nonsense even related to me? So because I am a polite, easygoing houseguest, I said okay and waited for them to suggest they paint sparkly orange lightning bolts on my toes or something, because another thing I am is not at all a snob.
The good news is, they were booked for the rest of the day. The bad news is, people actually go to the nail salon at Walmart like it's a thing.
"I can take you tomorrow," the receptionist said, and there's a job. Oh, I greet guests at W salon. Have I mentioned I am not at all a snob? "If tomorrow won't work, there is a salon across the street," she suggested.
"Oh, good!" said my cousin. "Which direction?"
The receptionist told Katie about the place, and finished with, "Now, they are Vietnamese. But it's clean."
"I can't think of the last time I went to a salon that wasn't Vietnamese. In fact, I practically speak Vietnamese," I told her. I have no idea what I was trying to prove to this horrid person, although it really is true that I may or may not be picking up the Vietnamese words "high-maintenance" and "goat hoofs."
What a jerk.
9. Finally, and then we will talk about m'house, I did want to let you know that I have already had two disgusting bug experiences today. The first one was this morning, as I left Ned's. I got less than a block away when THE BIGGEST BUG YOU HAVE EVER SEEN started flying around in my car. He looked sting-y, and he was yellow. Naturally I did the adult thing and abandoned my car. I left it right in the middle of the road and kept directing people around it.
You have no idea how big that insect was. I called Ned for help, and went back to directing traffic.
"You need help?" a large man asked me. "Naw, my boyfriend's on his way. There's just a huge bug flying in my car and he looks sting-y," I told the man.
He looked at my car. "Well, he got in there because you drive a Bug!"
Ned was remarkably patient for a person who'd just gotten rid of me. He came and moved the car to a normal part of the road. For a while we couldn't find the damn thing, and I had the hatch open, terrifiedly searching for the world's largest sting-y-est yellow bug.
"I think you should commend me for not once going zzzzzzzZZT behind you!" said Ned, who really should study up more on Lorena Bobbit and women of her ilk.
If THAT weren't bad enough, once I got home, I discovered Iris had brought in a cricket, which is bad enough, and maybe she wanted it around to react to my jokes, but in her zeal she managed to quietly dismember several of its disgusting bug legs, while the poor cricket itself was wriggling in agony. I mean, it's not satisfying enough to just catch it and kill it. It's a whole level of accomplishment if you can torment it first.
She and her one eye stared at me coldly while I oookily put old Jiminy out of his misery with a broom, then swept up the 14 parts she'd scattered across the floor.
Anyway, our house. I like how I said yesterday there was one house we've obsessed over for weeks, and we had called about it, then I got back on here and said the house we've obsessed over is ours, and people were still all, "What house?"
I'm using a lotta YouTube today.
This cute house. It was built in 1928, is in the adorablest neighborhood (even CLOSER to work), has a front porch with a porch swing, and upstairs and a downstairs, hardwoods throughout, and it's the least-expensive one we've seen!!
When we got to the open house yesterday, three minutes early, there were already giant assholes waiting on the porch. Hey, how's that loving kindness meditation working, June? Ned and I groused about them till we got to the porch steps, where there was a penny face up. A sign!
Then as I told you, there was a George Lassos the Moon picture in the house, and Ned and I were all, A SIGN!!
Then I told the guy we'd give him fifty bucks more a month and we got the place. I'll give you a sign. It's green and rectangular. I mean, there's no messing with a savvy wheeler dealer like me, man.
Even with the extra 25 big ones apiece, Ned and I are saving more than $600 a month on rent and mortgage. PLUS, the month we move in is the last month I'll have a car payment, and I'd like to thank Marvin for signing up for that six-year plan. Jesus. Anyway, that's another $273 on TOP of the $600! WE'LL BE RICH, I tell ya!
And my renters are still available! They've gone month to month at their current place, so. Yay!
Okay, I gotta go. Ned and I are (sit down) going to a movie, and also Ima do Tracy Chapman again today. Yesterday while nervously awaiting the you-got-the-place call from our new landlord, who seems lovely, I did the next level of Tracy to work off my energy. Holy cats. Today my arse be hurtin', and as one of the Alexes at work (the one with the seven-inch waist) told me, motion is lotion. I hated her when she said it but I think of it whenever my parts hurt and it compels me to exercise. Damn her and her slogans and her waist and her size two-ness.