This Weekend In Review.
(My sincerest apologies for the lack of posts recently. I have been without the internet. More frequent posting will resume immediately.)
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Wednesday, 6.15.05
My wife and I closed on our new house. The closing process was drawn out and agonizing, and filled with legal jargon that I frankly didn't want to understand. At the end of the day, however, my wife and I became the owners of a house, a yard, and a metric fuckload of debt.
Thursday 6.16.05
Went refrigerator shopping. Somewhere knee-deep in the process, I had the realization that a lot of the things I was concerned about (especially the features) were things that, three months down the road, I wouldn't think twice about.
I ordered DirecTV. I ordered DSL. I refused to be stuck with analog cable and dial-up. That's right, mofos-- I was moving out of 1994.
That night, I packed up my stuff at Mom and Papa Bear's house. My dog, Rosie, knew something was up, and didn't like it. She usually sits in my lap while I'm watching the Braves with my Dad-- Thursday, she didn't come near me except for once. I thought maybe she's forgotten the suitcases that I had brought downstairs as she proceeded to jump on my chair. I was wrong-- she looked at me as she sat on my leg, farted on me, and then scurried into the kitchen.
Friday 6.17.05
Movers arrived with belongings from NYC. Every single box and piece of furniture was accounted for. They were in and out in less than 3 hours, and did this while I was at work.
I come home to find that Papa Bear has mowed my lawn. Most people would think this was a nice favor, but I see this as encroachment on my pissing grounds. Defeated, I started unpacking my stuff. I set up most of my office/studio and the bedroom, some of my stuff in the bedroom, and went to bed.
Saturday 6.18.05
Rented a Penske truck with my Mom to bring over furniture from my old house. Dad and I carried over a full truckload (fuckload?) of stuff that once belonged to either his or my Mom's parents. Kind of cool to be sitting in my Grandfather's desk chair.
Papa Bear and I decided that we'd move over the patio furniture he was giving to me on a seperate trip. He drove the truck this time, and didn't ask me how I wanted to unload it. He proceded to drive around to the back of the house, clipping the corner of the garage roof in the process, bending the gutter and causing a huge scrape down the side of the truck (which was rented in my name and was being paid for with my credit card). And while I was a bit miffed with Dad, I was more pissed with Mom-- these Penske's have a 10' 6" clearance... if Papa Bear had a pick up truck, this NEVER WOULD HAVE HAPPENED.
Dad was kind of beating himself up about doing damage to my house, but I told him it wasn't that big of a deal-- a busted gutter for all of the furniture (with installation) was a fair enough exchange.
Sunday 6.19.05
Woke up at 7:00 and did some early morning yard work. K and I drove to several stores, doing final pricing on refrigerators, before deciding on a stainless steel model at Lowes. Nice piece of equipment, if you ask me.
That night, we went over to the parents' house for Father's Day dinner. Papa Bear was a bit timid around me, I think, because of the damage caused on the previous day. But I reassured him that I would be able to fix the gutter and that it wasn't all that big of a deal (considering he was able to fix the truck to the point where you'd never know there was a scrape there unless you were really looking for it).
I bought Dad and I Braves tickets for their first game with the Nationals at Turner field. He mentioned a while back that he and his father had seen the last Washington team (the Senators), and I thought it would be nice if my Dad and I got to see the new team from Washington. I told my Dad the reason for the tickets, and while he'll never admit it, I think I saw him getting a bit misty-eyed. The old softy...
-----
Speaking of baseball, I've realized something recently. One of the reasons I like baseball is that I see my life in terms of the game of baseball. I could draw out the metaphor, but I won't. Bottom line is this-- while most people think of progress as a linear path, I see it differently.
I've scored by coming back home.
-----
Wednesday, 6.15.05
My wife and I closed on our new house. The closing process was drawn out and agonizing, and filled with legal jargon that I frankly didn't want to understand. At the end of the day, however, my wife and I became the owners of a house, a yard, and a metric fuckload of debt.
Thursday 6.16.05
Went refrigerator shopping. Somewhere knee-deep in the process, I had the realization that a lot of the things I was concerned about (especially the features) were things that, three months down the road, I wouldn't think twice about.
I ordered DirecTV. I ordered DSL. I refused to be stuck with analog cable and dial-up. That's right, mofos-- I was moving out of 1994.
That night, I packed up my stuff at Mom and Papa Bear's house. My dog, Rosie, knew something was up, and didn't like it. She usually sits in my lap while I'm watching the Braves with my Dad-- Thursday, she didn't come near me except for once. I thought maybe she's forgotten the suitcases that I had brought downstairs as she proceeded to jump on my chair. I was wrong-- she looked at me as she sat on my leg, farted on me, and then scurried into the kitchen.
Friday 6.17.05
Movers arrived with belongings from NYC. Every single box and piece of furniture was accounted for. They were in and out in less than 3 hours, and did this while I was at work.
I come home to find that Papa Bear has mowed my lawn. Most people would think this was a nice favor, but I see this as encroachment on my pissing grounds. Defeated, I started unpacking my stuff. I set up most of my office/studio and the bedroom, some of my stuff in the bedroom, and went to bed.
Saturday 6.18.05
Rented a Penske truck with my Mom to bring over furniture from my old house. Dad and I carried over a full truckload (fuckload?) of stuff that once belonged to either his or my Mom's parents. Kind of cool to be sitting in my Grandfather's desk chair.
Papa Bear and I decided that we'd move over the patio furniture he was giving to me on a seperate trip. He drove the truck this time, and didn't ask me how I wanted to unload it. He proceded to drive around to the back of the house, clipping the corner of the garage roof in the process, bending the gutter and causing a huge scrape down the side of the truck (which was rented in my name and was being paid for with my credit card). And while I was a bit miffed with Dad, I was more pissed with Mom-- these Penske's have a 10' 6" clearance... if Papa Bear had a pick up truck, this NEVER WOULD HAVE HAPPENED.
Dad was kind of beating himself up about doing damage to my house, but I told him it wasn't that big of a deal-- a busted gutter for all of the furniture (with installation) was a fair enough exchange.
Sunday 6.19.05
Woke up at 7:00 and did some early morning yard work. K and I drove to several stores, doing final pricing on refrigerators, before deciding on a stainless steel model at Lowes. Nice piece of equipment, if you ask me.
That night, we went over to the parents' house for Father's Day dinner. Papa Bear was a bit timid around me, I think, because of the damage caused on the previous day. But I reassured him that I would be able to fix the gutter and that it wasn't all that big of a deal (considering he was able to fix the truck to the point where you'd never know there was a scrape there unless you were really looking for it).
I bought Dad and I Braves tickets for their first game with the Nationals at Turner field. He mentioned a while back that he and his father had seen the last Washington team (the Senators), and I thought it would be nice if my Dad and I got to see the new team from Washington. I told my Dad the reason for the tickets, and while he'll never admit it, I think I saw him getting a bit misty-eyed. The old softy...
-----
Speaking of baseball, I've realized something recently. One of the reasons I like baseball is that I see my life in terms of the game of baseball. I could draw out the metaphor, but I won't. Bottom line is this-- while most people think of progress as a linear path, I see it differently.
I've scored by coming back home.
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