my resolve sucks
i'm pretty sure in my last entry, i meant to journal more.
i'm not sure why i felt so compeled.
the upside is, i've gotten rid of the stupid laptop & only have a desktop and an iphone.
i wanted the mac version of my desktop, but i couldn't afford it.
so anyway, we bought a house, raked plenty, primed every pink surface to remove
all traces of the former owners, fumigated our buggy roommates, fixed the fireplace...
no, WE didn't fix it, we had professionals do it. i fear fire and did not trust our skills
to do the job. replaced glass in the shower window, bought a folding ladder, organized crap
and created the "yard sale" room.
also, we got a dog. she's some sort of tiny street mutt from the island of st. croix.
chihuahua/papillion mix perhaps? we call her doozy or the dooze. she's a good girl.
our neighbor, earl james, is an original arlington redneck.
approximately 64 years of age & weighing in at 300 lbs.,
he has a three bay car garage in which he stores his hot rods (2 of 'em, a low-rider truck & a bright yellow thing that zz top would drive). an a-team van ('s a tough
son of a looking bitch with a sweet sound system) and an indy pace car pick-up truck are relegated to the elements. he's outfitted the garage with mood lighting & demonstrated the various string light configurations for optimal man times over cheap beer & snuffs.
there are nude ladies on the wall and various trophies & nostalgia in his manly studio.
he used to be an alcoholic he says, but now, he only has a cocktail or two before dinner.
earl was very kind to lend us his gas blower after we blistered our re-blistered blisters from
raking every saturday/sunday for an entire month straigh. yep, marched right into our bare
backyard and said "hey, we're neighbors, take this blower & take care of your leaves". he then demonstrated the power of the blower on, well... nothing. there was nothing to blow.
we stored it in our basement for two days, unusued, until he came to fetch it. thanks earl.
you da man.
i'm a fucking home owner. what have i become? who am i? is this what i meant to do?
sure, i enjoy living in a house with a yard and a dog and a future vegetable garden BUT...
um. is this me? in this neighborhood?
i'm not sure why i felt so compeled.
the upside is, i've gotten rid of the stupid laptop & only have a desktop and an iphone.
i wanted the mac version of my desktop, but i couldn't afford it.
so anyway, we bought a house, raked plenty, primed every pink surface to remove
all traces of the former owners, fumigated our buggy roommates, fixed the fireplace...
no, WE didn't fix it, we had professionals do it. i fear fire and did not trust our skills
to do the job. replaced glass in the shower window, bought a folding ladder, organized crap
and created the "yard sale" room.
also, we got a dog. she's some sort of tiny street mutt from the island of st. croix.
chihuahua/papillion mix perhaps? we call her doozy or the dooze. she's a good girl.
our neighbor, earl james, is an original arlington redneck.
approximately 64 years of age & weighing in at 300 lbs.,
he has a three bay car garage in which he stores his hot rods (2 of 'em, a low-rider truck & a bright yellow thing that zz top would drive). an a-team van ('s a tough
son of a looking bitch with a sweet sound system) and an indy pace car pick-up truck are relegated to the elements. he's outfitted the garage with mood lighting & demonstrated the various string light configurations for optimal man times over cheap beer & snuffs.
there are nude ladies on the wall and various trophies & nostalgia in his manly studio.
he used to be an alcoholic he says, but now, he only has a cocktail or two before dinner.
earl was very kind to lend us his gas blower after we blistered our re-blistered blisters from
raking every saturday/sunday for an entire month straigh. yep, marched right into our bare
backyard and said "hey, we're neighbors, take this blower & take care of your leaves". he then demonstrated the power of the blower on, well... nothing. there was nothing to blow.
we stored it in our basement for two days, unusued, until he came to fetch it. thanks earl.
you da man.
i'm a fucking home owner. what have i become? who am i? is this what i meant to do?
sure, i enjoy living in a house with a yard and a dog and a future vegetable garden BUT...
um. is this me? in this neighborhood?