another summer dream

Soo... I fell off the face of the internet again. I'm sorry. :/ Getting our house unpacked, arranged and trying to thrift/garage sale/craigslist/buy furniture is sort of eating time. On the bright side I discovered chalk paint and at last there's something I can paint furniture with that doesn't kill me with paint fumes. I finished painting a nightstand that Spike gave me and it looks a million times better now that its ugly dark exterior (which was further destroyed by someone having a water bottle incident I think) is hidden under distressed white. So I'm doing the same thing to Brynden's unfortunate chest of drawers and I'm working on a cute wicker piece I picked up at a garage sale. The wicker piece was $5 and all it needs is some glue and new drawer pulls! Easy fix.

Meanwhile I spent last week in Hometown at mom and stepdad's place while Brynden was at training in Georgia. And that is where we hit problems. Many problems. Let me list them.

1.) Mom is working hella overtime because her high stress state job is now higher stress with the state being in dire financial woe and consolidating 3 county offices into one with half the workers they actually need. So by the time she gets home, she's exhausted and just can't cope with cleaning or housework. Stepdad meanwhile has had a couple eye surgeries and his sight is just... not all that great. Plus he's a product of the 1950s and while he tries to clean he's just not thorough or careful (seriously the number of figurines, pieces of furniture etc that he's broken are just too numerous to count). When I lived at home I would clean the main areas every couple months at the least so while it might get messy it didn't get dirty... and the last few times I was up I was in bad asthma situations so I couldn't clean. So last week I walked into the giant family room and choked because oh my god the dust and spiderwebs. And that's not even talking about the guest room or the front parlor or my old room. And no one told them how to use the new HE washer so oh god the mold in it. o____O 

I spent four days just on the family room, I'm not even kidding. The bar fridge had a giant block of ice instead of a freezer (SOLID. ICE. BLOCK.) and it took 3 days to defrost- with a lamp shining right on it. I swept up enough dirt to build a dam, I think. And I didn't even get around to wiping down the rough-hewn cross beams on the ceiling (btw I know cross beams and rough hewn stuff look cool but TRUST ME you learn to hate them if you try to dust them) or to scrubbing down the mantle. Most of the time I was sweeping, dusting, and cleaning out the tables (they are the kind that have doors and storage in them), washing the curtains, trying to fix some of the scratches on the hardwood with finish feeder, etc.


2) Mom and Stepdad had to put on a new roof in May- and I don't mean new shingles I mean new ROOF. Their house was built in the 60s sometime and oh my god the stress from the roof stuff has left huge stress cracks all over the walls in almost every room, and a couple in the ceilings. The popcorn ceilings. The textured walls. o____o So Brynden and I are going to do some patching and in the process we'll probably just de-texturize that shit because replicating the wall texture is just... not going to happen. And I'm not interested in popcorn ceiling sprays either, I'll be honest.


3) The half-finished basement flooded three years ago and they had to put in a fully new line for the sump and storm drains and whatnot- including digging up the yard and the street. Afterward stepdad was supposed to get the basement de-molded but he decided there was too much stuff in the way and instead of moving it and doing one wall at a time (the floor is still cement so just required a mop and some soap) he just didn't bother at all. I refuse to go down there without a gas mask, tbh.


4) Stepdad decided to redo the bathrooms about... four years ago? Five? Mom's new shower insert sat in the front parlor for almost two years anyway, and then he finally put it in and hooked up the knobs backward (the cold is to hot, etc) and he didn't even finish off the edge of the little toilet nook where it meets the shower, or repair the other wall where he put a hammer through it. It looked like that for a couple years until he finally put a half-hearted piece of sheet rock on the edge bit but the grout everywhere is still like a giant mess of blobby ick, and there is still the hole in the back wall and.. yeah. The shower he picked for his bathroom is still somewhere in the basement. So that went well.

Oh and god help me, Stepdad hung up a shelf in mom's bathroom- by cleverly nailing a giant plank on the wall and hanging the shelf on that. I wouldn't quibble with that but it's a tiny shelf and I think he used a 2foot 2x4...? And didn't even put the nails in all the way. I don't know. I just... I don't understand.


5) While cleaning the family room, I worked my way through to the front wall that is nearest the rest of the house- on the other side of the wall are the main bath and part of the dining room. I started cleaning under the surround speakers and the entertainment center and realized it was leaning funny. Having experienced my stepfather's style of furniture arrangement (shove it wherever and if some part breaks whatever)... I figured he had broke the entertainment center and didn't tell mom. I was then distracted by the fact my hands and forearms suddenly looked like I had poison ivy or some kind of horrid welts (allergic reaction to dusting probably, or to cleaning the mold out of the washer without gloves becuase I'm dumb sometimes). That evening mom came in and she was going to help me finish with the entertainment center... and all of a sudden I hear from her side of it: "Oh, shit."

The wood floor has dropped away from the wall. No, really. About half the width of the room, the floor has just started curving downward, away from the wall. O____O Like I have no idea what is keeping the tv from falling into the basement. NO IDEA. Because I'm certain that eventually the middle is going to be pulled further down by the already fallen part and woe to anyone in there. The GIANT and VERY HEAVY television is sitting at about a 15 degree angle an the left part of the entertainment center is worse. So mom and I freaked the fuck out and got out some beer because... yeah.

We told stepdad the next morning and he just stared off into space all depressed and shit. And then moved his mental landscape into Denial. "It looks like it's been that way for a while. It's nothing." O________________________O 

I started begging mom to promise she'd call contractors on monday, or she'd let me call them. Or she'd start nagging Stepdad. Or anything. Some kind of action. PLEASE. The giant heavy television is going to crash into the basement and the house will collapse, etc. I wanted her to AT LEAST call an inspector to check the foundation.


6) We moved into the house like 14 years ago and the first thing mom wanted to do was put new carpet and/or flooring in. It's still not done, and the white carpets in the parlor and dining room and hall is so bad now that it looks like dingy cream but trust me it used to be eggshell white. Seriously. Plus the carpet in my room was ruined when we moved in (previously it was a teenage boy's room and there was ground-in poster putty and a couple burn marks, plus a spot that I think he tried to shave the carpet...? I don't even know). Mom had me pick out flooring and color when she picked out flooring for the rest of the house and then... none of it ever got bought.

7) The laundry/mud room has turned into a truly hideous version of a walk-in closet, with stepdad hanging up two questionably stable rails to hang clothes along two sides of the room. Again with nails/screws not in all the way, and clothes piling up on top of the washer/dryer and I just... I can't handle even looking at it. I don't even know where to start- aside from scrubbing the entire washer with vinegar, soap, baking soda, peroxide and then running straight vinegar, baking soda and bleach through it about six times- which I did last week. Plus I bought them HE detergent (Free and Clear because hell no with those ucky fragrances ones) .


.... yeah. (And before suggesting they had budget concerns for not doing stuff... no they didn't. That's part of why I'm so rage-y about this whole thing.) 

Brynden brought me back north yesterday. I talked to mom last night and apparently Stepdad is just like... in no hurry to do shit about the family room floor. And mom was like "We'll see what happens." At which point I freaked out at her "What happens is your end up having to rebuild the basement an family room from fucking scratch. And I will have zero god damn sympathy." 

On the better news, Mom volunteered to take a week off work in September to help me with cleaning the house (I suspect she knows I'll start rearranging things and tossing junk in the garage sale bins- starting with all the fake flowers) and setting up a garage sale for them. And she wanted to take another week off to help me deal with our house but tbh theirs is in far more dire straits. Ours just needs some routine things like painting some scratched paint, etc. Nowhere do we have mold, floors falling in, or cracked walls.

Brynden's volunteered to deal with the mold in the basement if we can get stepdad packed off to visit his kids or taking mom on vacation. It's just figuring out how to ship him off that will be troublesome, and Brynden will do the patching with some minor assistance from me while I go around cleaning stuff so he can get to the walls.

So basically most of my time right now is researching home diy stuff while I try to figure out how to fix some of mom's storage and furniture issues. Half their mess is because the house has almost no storage except to just shove everything into the basement so if I can figure out places/things/ideas for storing stuff neatly and maybe building some stuff maybe part of the problem can be mitigated. Plus, gods bless my mom, but she has a math brain. Equations and investigations and things she is amazing at- but organization and decorating she has a horrible time with, because she just can't see it in her head. She hates decorating with a passion because she can't visualize things without just doing them so she redoes/reorganizes a room then doesn't like it and gets frustrated so she'll just leave it. Which is why the guest room has had the same furniture arrangement for 14 years. The only room she periodically reorganizes is the family room because it is HUGE and she spends lots of time in it, and the furniture in there has slider things on it so she can rearrange it pretty easily. But she hasn't lately which is why she didn't realize how filthy the corners and back area were.

Here's how much my mom hates decorating: She let the 13-year-old pick out the furniture. Seriously. I was the one to out the family room furniture, the dining room table, entertainment center and kitchen table. I was 13. Which, actually I don't think I did too horribly- the only piece that makes me cringe now is the dining room table (it's that honey oak color with carved flowers around the edge and a kind of pedastal feet thing in the center- oh tweenage me, what were you thinking?). The main issue with the kitchen table is the kind of ugly swivel rolling chairs but they are comfy at least. I also picked out the front door, and did most of the furniture arranging until I graduated high school.

AND, stepdad is swearing that if he could just "get this fucking house cleaned up, I'll hire a housekeeper. I'm tired of dealing with it." Of course he follows this declaration up with no doing a damn thing toward cleaning the house. So, I figure if I can get it cleaned, Brynden gets it patched then maybe mom can convince him to get off his ass and buy flooring and deal with the family room, and a housekeeper will finally take pressure off her as well so maybe she'll decide to just order the flooring and get it installed whether he does anything or not.

I just am mostly concerned with the mold, dust and the specter of structural issues that might be hinted at by that damn family room. To me this is like a health hazard in so many ways that I just... I want to fix it. Whether my parents like it or not, dammit I'm getting this fixed. I am not interested in someone ending up with lung cancer or god knows what. *sigh* Seriously as blasee as they both were about everything, I was beginning to think I was being a housing hypochondriac seeing issues that weren't major as major... until Brynden came in was like "Uh no, this is really bad." I was relieved anyway. Until I realized that means all this stuff HAS to get fixed.

D: 

If you guys have any awesome places for storage/organization stuff, let me know.

The last two days I've been stuck on Polyvore because I can't write... anything. I tried writing drills, and then the old stand by of just going through and making lists or writing random whatever stream of consciousness, and then I tried RP posts (I deleted them because if it sounds completely stupidly OOC no I won't post it).

So I give up. I'm finishing The Hunger Games and making Polyvore sets and cleaning the house. Yesterday I got some cleaning done but then I cleaned the bathroom and used the Clorox cleaner because... um, I forgot how insanely horrible my reaction was to it last time. Oops. Sigh. I'm a ditz. So then most of last night was spent on a nebulizer. UGH.

I am just hoping maybe by writing here my imagination will get out of its funk. Please, please, cretivity, come baaaack... *cries*


Book Babbling Time!

Mockingjay (Book 3 of the Hunger Games Trilogy) is... different. I am tempted to use the phrase 'uneven' not because of the actual plot but because it runs straight into the brick wall caused by a strict 1st person narration. It's getting into situations where to keep the narration smooth she'd have to turn Katniss into a total Mary Sue, and I respect and applaud her refusal to do that. Unfortunately the result is a lot of things happening to or around Katniss without her doing them and half the time she's not there for them and it's getting a bit bothersome.

That said, I think this is one of those books that will actually be a much better movie- the story can probably be related more easily without being stuck in one person's head. Especially since our narrator has a head injury for half the book resulting in some rather awkward moments.

The story itself is awesome, and it's a fast read, well-written (with the above considerations taken into account). I can honestly say I admire the ability of Suzanne Collins to write her character even injured and confused and totally lost- it's really awesome to read through Katniss's eyes during a lot of it. I just think a lot of the really interesting story happened when she wasn't there and I hope the movies can portray it.

I like the ending even, although I wish the love triangle could have been resolved without the demonizing of the 3rd party but I sort of understand it. That said, somewhere in my brain I kind of think Katniss and Dany Targaryen should meet up and hang out and go conquer empires together. Dacy Mormont will come too, and it will be awesome.

I do recommend the series, although the 1st novel is by far my favorite. I'm glad I read the full trilogy but I doubt I'll reread Catching Fire or Mockingjay.

Ok, got the kitchen cleaned up, dishes worked on... now I need to do laundry.
...

*Stares at laundry pile and waits for magical house elves*

Why do I keep putting it off until there's a giant pile of it??! I know I shouldn't and yet I keep doing it. Really, self, get unlazy, kthnx

I don't know what to do about dinner tonight.

Man Vs. Food is at once mildly entertaining and totally disgusting. Some of this food I wouldn't want to eat ONE of let alone stuff a giant pile of it down my throat... WHY, PEOPLE?!

I would kill for a lemon poppyseed muffin.

This random entry is brought to you by procrastination of laundry. I think I should start a support group about it tbh.

Look, new shiny layout! betterdolphin is to thank, by way of mintyapple.

In other news, Brynden and I have started looking for houses, I'm not a fan of living a squillion miles from my social life, and having severe asthma severely sucks.

I guess I got spoiled by only having infrequent(ish) asthma issues for so long, but like this last year my childhood is haunting me and NOT IN THE FUN WAY. I think I've breathed in more albuterol than oxygen in the last month. I didn't get to go to Lilies War mostly due to my lungs' determination that air just is not for them, and fuck life they don't have to do this anymore.

It's like someone let my lungs discover guy-liner and they went emo on me.

FFS Bronchial Spasms are you kidding me? Last time I had this BSbusiness (pun sooo intended har) I was like ten and had pneumonia for the 6th time and like... that was appropriate. This is not appropriate. I cannot drink while taking these meds, damn it!

I did however consider the trufax historical medical treatment of asthma which was a good glass of wine or six. I may be making up the 'six' part. I also may be leaving out the fact there were medicinal herbs in the wine.

...

Does it count as medicinal if I drop a fennel seed in the bottom of the glass? HUZZAH IT DOES. THANK U GALEN.

I am however less enthusiastic about the other historical treatments. Except possibly for the one involving opium. I could smoke some opium and see how that goes... >.> Chloroform however, is right the fuck out.

( Modern Asthma Medication kind of SUCKS too )

Now, back to working on a romance novel! <3

5am is not the time to go "hey want to feel something sharp and stabbing?" Like for reals. Knock that shit off. I need to like.. function tomorrow/today, ok? UGH. You have the worst scheduling. You're just pissed that brain gets more attention than you do, I know it. Don't be jealous, hooker.

In other news, Richard Greene is still my Robin Hood for now and always and his voice makes everything better and I love him and I need all the seasons of Robin Hood like yesterday. And I DO NOT CARE THIS SHOW WAS MADE IN THE FIFTIES. It's still a bazillion times better than that new shiny sucky one, that even Richard Armitage's smoking hotness could not salvage.

Robin Hood doesn't wear guyliner and he doesn't have an emo hair cut and Marian is NOT that useless. Marian can shoot arrows as good as Robin and she can outscheme Prince John and she is EPIC and friends with Eleanore of Aquitaine and I LOVE MARIAN AND THAT, SIR , Is NOT MY MARIAN.

Also, stupid new Robin didn't sound like Richard Green and make me think of warm summers and perfect chivalry and sunny forest days with soft breezes and songs over firelight and riding under the stars and having grand adventures that don't involve anyone dying unless they deserve it and... and...  I LOVE YOU RICHARD GREEN. *CRIES* You were totally an awesome knight and you're going to save King Richard and we'll all live happy Saxon Peasant lives with no plague and no one dying and lots of venison and cute inkeepers' daughters and swanky castles and easily-outwitted lawmen and a very fox-looking Sheriff. And we will save Queen Eleanor's jewels or rescue Maid Marian or get rescued by Maid Marian (like seriously! I love this show cause it may be 1950s land but she damn well rescues them like... LOTS actually), or the young Prince Arthur, or a couple of kids who run away, or... or we'll go bother Friar Tuck, and maybe he'll shelter runaway lovers who just want to get maaaaried, and they will get over the border to Wales and be married and not hanged, and all the peasants will have food and dance and it will be awesome. All the time.

Another crime of stupid new Robin was sucky clothes. At least old Robin was made in the fifties with like five dollars for a budget and luckily was shot on 1950s film so you really can't see that much detail anyway. I love it. And Old Maid Marian's dresses at least looked medieval. IDEK what was up with that crap they put New Marian in.

What? Other girls watch chick flicks when they're unhappy, I watch obscure 1950s British Robin Hood and sing along with its ridiculously goofy yet hard to ignore songs (Robin Hood, Robin Hood, riding through the glen... Robin Hood, Robin Hood with his band of men! Feared by the rich, loved by pooooor, Robin Hood, Robin Hooooood....) Don't judge, ppl. Don't judge.

Could be worse. I could watch Princess Tutu again. Or oooh... ROME. I'd watch True Blood but can't take Sookie right now... omg, pills, please kick in...

Also how can anyone love Lena Heady's hair in Game of Thrones??! 

There WAS something in the wall. HAH.

I opened up the closet under the stairs last week and found OMFG A BIRD. Ok, I didn't recognize it as that at first. I saw 'small brown alive moving thing' screamed like I'd been attacked by an axe murderer, slammed the door, ran upstairs and called Brynden at work to sob at him on the phone. I think it was something like "TheresaratinthecupboardunderthestairsitsaratIKNOWITSARATitsaliveanditsbrownanditsaratarataRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT" 

Except of course it was not, in fact, a rat.
A rat would actually have been comprehensible.

I have NO IDEA how a BIRD got into the house. That closet doesn't open to the outside. It has no dryer vents and I don't even think it's got a heating duct so my only logical explanation is that the back of the closet under the stairs actually leads to Narnia. Except not Narnia because the bird didn't talk to me.

So, my logic tells me there is a Hellmouth in the basement, and Cthulhu vomited up a birdie.

Brynden had to come home from work, open the door, discover that the OMGDEATHRAT was in fact a small, flapping, extremely terrified bird, and then puzzled out a way to coax it out of the closet and out one of the downstairs windows, where it could fly free and sing sweet songs of the coming of the Elder Gods and the delicious taste of human eyes.

I, meanwhile, was bravely hiding upstairs. Under the couch. With a blanket. And one eye on the upstairs door in case the bird transformed into Yog-Sothoth and devoured the souls of all who beheld him. Because, you never know.

Once he'd successfully banished the avatar of Nyarlathotep of the Crawling Mist, he had to drag me out of hiding. He even tried valiantly for five whole seconds to refrain from laughing his ass off at my total and unabashed cowardice in the face of wildlife.

As I informed him, I do not do birds. They look like they remember when their ancestors were swooping down and snatching tiny bipedal mammals up for breakfast and like they're just silently thinking at you 'What goes around comes around... just wait mammal. Just you wait..." 

So I'm good now. There's nothing else in the wall. Really. I don't hear anything...

Only... sometimes...

I think...

No.

Nothing.

Really.