I think I might have to swear in this post. Just so you know.
So things are rocking right along. The signing away of our life is at 1:00, and then I can start putting crap in the house. Hurrah! Nolan did call the phone company, and they do have to do their thang out there, who knows how long it'll be before I have internet? Not me. I'm a bit put out, though.
So the neighborhood we're moving into is really nice. We are not the norm, out there. It's filled with doctors and lawyers, engineers that work at Pantex (the nuclear disarmorment plant) , etc. No other electrical contractors and actresses, for the most part. And I knew that going in. But the elementary school is one of the best, and we liked the neighborhood.
I digress.
Yesterday I drop by the house to look at a chandelier that one of our guys hung, to check the height or whatever, and I find that the builder (who reminds me a little of a used car salesman - really charming, but don't believe a word he says) has brought two women into the house to show them around. It's the norm, he did that with us, too. Took us around to his other houses to show us finishes and so forth.
Anyhoo, the women are the epitome of the Junior league rich bitch: Brighton sunglasses and shoes, really expensive, yet understated jewelry, Ralph Lauren everything; to be honest, the first thing I thought when I looked at one of them was 'Oh, my gosh, it's Pansy!'
Which proves that my dorkiness is firmly ingrained, thankyouverymuch.
Anyway, they chat with me a bit, keeping in mind that I look like a total scrub, I've been cleaning and packing boxes all day.
Pansy. You have a beautiful home. We especially like the landscaping. (shares a look with the other woman)
Me. Thank you. I think.
Pansy. So when is your move in date?
Me. Thursday. (I smile at the builder)
Pansy. (Looks around her, apparent distaste etched on every line of her made up face) Well. My, that's ...ambitious.
Quite frankly, I was floored. Did she think it wasn't finished? The cleaning crew is in today, clearing up construction debris and dust and so forth. My first thought was, "If you don't like it, then get the eff out, lady. The builder started backpedaling, and I left. i was done with all that.
So that's what I'm moving into. Let's hope my artistic temperment-AC/DC listening-dramatic-junior league hating-bullshit filtering personality goes over well out there, y'all. Bring it on, collective pains in the asses. I'm ready.
So the neighborhood we're moving into is really nice. We are not the norm, out there. It's filled with doctors and lawyers, engineers that work at Pantex (the nuclear disarmorment plant) , etc. No other electrical contractors and actresses, for the most part. And I knew that going in. But the elementary school is one of the best, and we liked the neighborhood.
I digress.
Yesterday I drop by the house to look at a chandelier that one of our guys hung, to check the height or whatever, and I find that the builder (who reminds me a little of a used car salesman - really charming, but don't believe a word he says) has brought two women into the house to show them around. It's the norm, he did that with us, too. Took us around to his other houses to show us finishes and so forth.
Anyhoo, the women are the epitome of the Junior league rich bitch: Brighton sunglasses and shoes, really expensive, yet understated jewelry, Ralph Lauren everything; to be honest, the first thing I thought when I looked at one of them was 'Oh, my gosh, it's Pansy!'
Which proves that my dorkiness is firmly ingrained, thankyouverymuch.
Anyway, they chat with me a bit, keeping in mind that I look like a total scrub, I've been cleaning and packing boxes all day.
Pansy. You have a beautiful home. We especially like the landscaping. (shares a look with the other woman)
Me. Thank you. I think.
Pansy. So when is your move in date?
Me. Thursday. (I smile at the builder)
Pansy. (Looks around her, apparent distaste etched on every line of her made up face) Well. My, that's ...ambitious.
Quite frankly, I was floored. Did she think it wasn't finished? The cleaning crew is in today, clearing up construction debris and dust and so forth. My first thought was, "If you don't like it, then get the eff out, lady. The builder started backpedaling, and I left. i was done with all that.
So that's what I'm moving into. Let's hope my artistic temperment-AC/DC listening-dramatic-junior league hating-bullshit filtering personality goes over well out there, y'all. Bring it on, collective pains in the asses. I'm ready.