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Flooring, Floored

  • Posted on August 6, 2009 at 12:41 pm
This entry is part 1 of 3 in the series I'm the man of the house.

This post is dedicated to those of you who don’t follow me on twitter. You’re missing…a lot.

It was, it is, it has been time to rip the carpets out of this house for longer than I care to admit. There will be no “before” pictures because I have to handle the carpet with gloves and I can’t have y’all calling Teh Gov’ment and tellin’ on me.

(Paranoid, remember?)

My Sainted Mama’s paperwork says this house is circa 1995-96 (different numbers in different places) and it’s the original carpet. While I fully acknowledge that it’s age and quality have a lot to do with its present condition, I still get grossed out.

Like, rip it up and go take a shower grossed out.

I started her room on July 22nd and finished it on Aug 1st. While continuing to work my usual 40ish hour job.

(Where are my pompom-carrying cheerleaders??!!??)

However, I did a picture of the ONE spot in the floor not covered by the “I’ve got my ROOM BACK!!!!” explosion of teen crap.

the laminate flooring in my daughter's room

The white strip of molding is as she wanted it (though I have no idea why)(I suspect laziness though. That or paralyzing indecision. I just *may* have passed on the inability to decide to paint the molding the wall color or the trim color to my daughter.) Optical illusion alert: the molding is sitting on top of the flooring, not another strip of molding. (could I possibly use the word “molding” in a paragraph more?)

And now I’m off to start round 2 – the boys room. (Which may or may not stay the boyS room – they’re keeping each other awake talking)

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Wobbling

  • Posted on May 3, 2009 at 1:02 pm
This entry is part 7 of 10 in the series atypicalrelationship

I call, he does’t answer. I text, he answers. My head explodes more. We do this dance for another month, with me trying to get him to talk to me, explain himself, make this right somehow.

Valentine’s day rolls around, and he calls. Invites me to dinner and “to talk”. It’s too late, it really is and I say as much and hang up. Curiosity overwhelms me, and I call back. No answer. I text, he answers. He came by the store with a smug grin on his face. Confident that just the sight of him would make me melt into his arms, I suppose. Earrings. He picked out earrings for me. Is that supposed to make me snap-to and drop my panties and forget what an ass he’s been?

He wrote Mama a letter. A grammatically incorrect, misspelled HORROR of a letter. A letter that made me suck my girlybits up and drop to my knees thankful that I did not get pregnant by this man. It said:

In the month of December, we came into an agreement to do labor on the house.  The set price for this job was around $9500 this was including price of materials and contract labor.  Since our agreement, you have been negligent in paying your bill.  In addition, I have had nothing but interference and delays on your part as the client.  You have paid $3000 on your bill.  You elected to end the verbal agreement on 2/6/09 for reasons on your part that were personal and not professional.  So through no fault of my own, I was prepared to finish job.  Therefore, I do not owe any money back. Cause materials were purchased for the job. Therefore, I have lost time and money because of delays and interference on your part. So I am sending u a bill for what u have paid. In addition what you owe for my time invested in job. As of my experience doing work for you. I will no longer being doing work for you in the future. I hope you understand that when you hire someone to do a job. You must let them do the job set forth as they were hired to do. Very little money was provided for this job and time was wasted. In addition there were many delays on your part., So through no fault of my own was I negligent on the job.

He sucks at grammar, he sucks at math. She paid him $5000. I want her to take him to court. She won’t, of course. It was an expensive lesson learned.

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A house disrespected

  • Posted on May 2, 2009 at 4:58 pm
This entry is part 6 of 10 in the series atypicalrelationship

I went to the house he’s been “renovating” for Mama. The demolition has been done, and the wall repair/primer is up. He told me the stucco crumbled when he pulled the wallpaper down, and therefore the entire kitchen must be redone. He says that putting panelling up would be less expensive than replacing the drywall. In the rest of the house, the old carpet has been pulled up, but the old pad is still there – ostensibly to protect the floor. The floor that is going to be covered by new carpet…

There is only one small section of wall that is stucco in the kitchen- where the old chimney is. The rest of it is drywall. He had hammered holes in the drywall, looking for the studs. He sees me looking and tells me not to worry – there’s only a week’s worth of work left and then he’ll be done.I know better. There is too much to be done – the house is an old one and a job that SHOULD take a day usually takes three. I take my leave, having reviewed the to-do list with him.

Days later he calls to tell me the panelling is up, so I make arrangements to go by the house and see what he’s done. Mama and her friend (who is a contractor) come with me, so we can have a “professional” opinion. Shock. Horror. Amazement. Trepidation. These are not words you expect to use when viewing the work of Someone To Marry. Especially when they’re doing a “labor of love” for you.

There is demolition debris still on the floor. There is…stuff…on the wall. It’s not panelling it’s….oh dear lord it’s luan plywood. Some of the panels are hung vertically, some horizontally. That will not work – it has a grain to it. He’s used button-cap nails to fasten it – which means they will stick out. He didn’t use straps to bridge the no-longer-standard gap between the studs, so when you place your hand in the center of the panel and push, it bows in. A lot. I walk through the rest of the house – it looks like nothing else has been touched. What in the WORLD has he been doing for the last two months??!!?? (Obviously? Not working on the house.)

There is yet another meeting with him. Neither of us is happy – he wants to be left alone to work and that is not.going.to.happen. Too much has already gone wrong.

Another month goes by. He calls to tell me the fuel oil tank is empty. I ask if he’s there, I’ll have the oil company deliver a minimum order ASAP. He’s not.

I stew for a bit, then hop in the car to meet the delivery guy. Someone DOES have to be there for it, after all. My head exploded when I walked in the door. Demolition debris? STILL on the floor. Drywall had been hung (over the phone jack and a power outlet), but not taped/mudded. I picked up a shovel and dust mask, taking my fury out on the largest pile of debris. The rest of the house is STILL in the same state it was.

He’s fired.

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Hoping this time would be different

  • Posted on April 29, 2009 at 12:54 pm
This entry is part 2 of 10 in the series atypicalrelationship

The accident happened and I slid into another world. Answering the phone, shaking hands, hugging people whose names I remembered but either had never met or hadn’t seen since I was a child.

He became my rock in the storm.

He held me when I cried, handed me tissues. He came to the wake and stayed there (directly in my line of sight) the entire time. Three hours of nonstop handshaking and hugging and Thankyouforcoming and Weappreciateyerprayers and Yeshewillbemissed. He stayed the entire three hours just to be sure I was OK.

There are things that need to be done around the house – he says he can do those things. I nod my head, relieved that I won’t have to worry about them. There are renovations that need to be done, a house prepared for sale. He talks to Mama about doing the renovation work for her – bids it as a complete job.

On the day we’re supposed to work around my house, he is nowhere to be found. He doesn’t answer the phone, and I’m NOT going to call his mama. He had taken a “muscle relaxer” (he calls it codeine) and slept most of the day. We rescheduled for the next Saturday.

The next Saturday he tells me he’ll be at my house after he takes care of blowing leaves at his Grandma’s house. Again, he’s a no-show.

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I did not fall, I jumped

  • Posted on April 28, 2009 at 12:53 pm
This entry is part 1 of 10 in the series atypicalrelationship

He has three kids. Only they’re not “kids”, they’re teens/young adults.

Older.

When I gave the usual preparatory spiel (Kids, school, work, special needs kid, high intensity life), he didn’t blink. He asked me out twice before I realized it was an invitation. In my world, “what kind of movies do you like?” is conversation, not invitation.

He is sporadically employed, separated and living with his folks until the divorce is final. He wants to go back to school, to “study computers”. I tell him that the field is broad and currently full of people who JUST got laid off. That I think if he specializes in medical computing, he’ll pretty much be guaranteed a job as long as he’s willing to work.

We went out after work one night. Sat at a table across from each other and talked of our hopes and dreams. Spoke of our respective anxiety issues, of his various injuries and their resultant aches and pains and the medication they require.

(I did my best to quash the panicky unease his disclosures engendered.)

He likes that I’m an intellectual. Says I’m “purty”.

When it became obvious that I was out WAY past my bedtime, we agreed that the date was a good one, and I said I’d go out with him again. He caressed my cheek and leaned in for a kiss.

It was….WOW.

2 comments on I did not fall, I jumped

Short attention span. I has it.

  • Posted on December 17, 2008 at 8:15 pm

I decided I might be a bit on the snacky side so I went into the kitchen.

Mama said she wanted the kitchen phone moved to the bedroom, but the cord isn’t long enough to reach her jack. And as it turns out, the cord was hardwired into the phone. I discovered this when I took the bottom of the phone off. (I thought it was just a base and that I could unplug the cord and replace it with the cord already in Mama’s room.) I said a few choice words when I saw the hardwiring job, and dropped a screw.

I thought the screw had rolled under the stove, so I pulled the drawer out. Didn’t find the screw.

Did find a filthy mess, though – so I got the broom and swept the toys and measuring spoons out and dampened a washcloth to spotscrub the floor.

Scrubbed a few spots, then realized that this really ain’t gonna work. So I pulled the stove away from the wall, swept the floor again and scrubbed it with the mop.

Then I looked up and realized that the sides of the stove were filthy, so I cleaned that too.

Then I remembered that I’d wanted to cook something to eat.

4 comments on Short attention span. I has it.

Another Friday

  • Posted on September 12, 2008 at 11:08 am

I’m at home with my SPD kid today. He’s getting big-kid molars and that has wreaked havoc on his digestive system. Which of course, means that he’s completely forsaken pants and needs a shower every 20-30 minutes or so.

~~~~~

My Notes From The Universe for today says:

Emily… you’re not using all of your angels. What’s up with that?
Use all of your angels. Run faster, jump higher, get more.
Call, ask, give thanks.

Dear Universe, the children and I need a place to live that’s close enough for me to keep an eye on my folks (since we know my brother isn’t going to, lawdblesshisheart). This house needs to be in the same school districts we’re already in, it needs to have a big enough yard for the kids to play in, and be far enough away from my neighbors so they don’t flip my paranoia.

Dear Universe, the children and I could most definitely appreciate the company of The Right Man in our lives. This “all mommy all the time” stuff is gettin’ old. I wouldn’t think you’d need a shopping list of criteria (I mean…you ARE teh Universe after all, right? you *know* what we need) so I’ll leave that part up to you.

Thank you oodles and skoodles!

~~~~~

I think I’ve finally hit my stride in school. Classes are going well, I’ve changed my work schedule to better allow me to do homework. (Oh, and Universe? if Teh Right Man is doing well enough for me to quit my job and concentrate JUST on kids and school that would be fanfreakin’tastic.) Digging myself out from under the massive pile of clean laundry waiting to be folded might just take a while though.

~~~~~

Okay, time to get back to work. Y’all have a good day and love each other.

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And by exploding? I mean

  • Posted on April 29, 2008 at 4:32 pm

We need to move I can’t find a house I can afford we need a new sitter if the boys are in school I’ll never see them unless I change jobs but I can’t change jobs without affecting my school schedule and I CAN’T do that because I’ll be a junior and so.close. to completing my degree and the laundry needs folding and the closet needs to be rotated and the boys need summer clothes and my daughter needs a car and wants a job and my insurance is income-based so if I make more money I’ll lose that insurance and jobs that pay well enough to have GOOD insurance coverage won’t generally let you take two days off to attend classes and do homework and I need new clothes and shoes for work but if I’m changing jobs then I won’t NEED clothes like that anymore and holyshit my DAUGHTER wants a JOB which is a good thing because I’ll know she’s at work and not off getting “into trouble” (she’s a good kid but she’s fifteen and OMG!) and I want to go home and cook but I have class in an hour and I want to grill a steak and some asparagus and be able to sit down. And eat.

Amen.

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Is there anything more frustrating than deliberate stupidity?

  • Posted on February 12, 2008 at 11:38 am

Last night, I had what is quite possibly one of THE most disappointing conversations in my life:

Customer #1 – you should check out this website. It’s all about how Huckabee is going to abolish the IRS and put in a sales-based tax system.

Customer #2 – I’m not online. I drive a truck.

Customer #1 – Oh, wellthen – I do a similar job, and I’m able to get online through [digital device #1] and [digital device #2] when I’m travelling.

Customer #2 – (blahblahblah country music blahblahblah don’t like computers blahblahblah)

Customer #1 (to me) – You should go check it out.

Me – I will definitely do that, I’m online a lot more than you might think.

Customer #1 – If you don’t have time to get online, you can print it. And then you can give it to Customer #2.

Me to Customer #2 – If I print it, will you read it?

Customer #2 – All I know is gears and road and load.

Me – but if I print it, will you read it?

Customer #2 – I’d have to change glasses…

Me – If.I.print.it.will.you.read.it??!!??

Customer #2 – oh well I (insert absolute crap excuse here)

I’m not sure if that exchange disgusted me, disappointed me, or what. It certainly set the tone for the rest of my evening – and not necessarily in a good way.

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