I have to say, I rather love where I live. It's small and really old, but I think its little quirks give it character. Like how there's not a light switch anywhere convenient in the kitchen. In order to turn on the light, you have to reach your hand behind the side of the fridge. This means you can't be holding anything in your hand, or your fist will be too big to fit behind it. I still forget that the light switch is going to be right where it should be - on the side of the wall when you walk into the kitchen. But as many times as I put my hand up there to flip it on, it's never there.
There's also a lack of convenient power outlets. Anywhere. Return again to the kitchen, for example, and you'll find that the main power outlet is to the side of the counter. This is where we keep our microwave. Now, the counter is really tiny so the microwave takes up a good chunk of the counter. This means that in order to plug in anything else - say, a toaster, the waffle iron, a griddle, the rice cooker, or one of our two crockpots - you have to move the knife block out of the way in order to turn the microwave to the side,so that there's room to put said appliance on the counter. Needless to say,this has become too much of a bother and I've taken to plugging a power cord into the wall on the other side of the kitchen and putting the appliance on the table while I work.
There's also a conspicuous lack of power outlets in the bathroom. In order to plug in my flat iron, I plug it in in my bedroom, pull it around the corner, and snake the cord under the bathroom door. This means that when I'm straigtening the left side of my hair I have to sort of lean to one side to be close enough.
Oh and everything drips. And I mean everything. The kitchen sink, the bathroom sink,the pipes under the kitchen sink. Sometime between the time we bought the apartment and the time we got back from our honeymoon, the ceiling in the kitchen leaked, leaving a large brown stain on our floor. And from time to time we've found water gracing the window sills in our bedroom. This dripping of course, comes with the harmonious sound of "drip, drip, drip". And while this noise doesn't bother very much, Terry's not such a fan of it. He'll quietly get up and grab a paper towel, fold it, and stuff it in the drain in the sink to stop the sound. Supposedly, our landlord is coming in today to fix it.
Like I said, I like these little quirks. I love having a place to decorate and take care of and have fun in. And in the immortal words of a girl with excellent taste in shoes, "there's no place like home!"
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Sunday, January 24, 2010
These Are the Moments
I don't think life is about one grand event or a single accomplishment. In fact, I think it's just the opposite. I think it's all the little times, strung together, that make life so great. So here's a list of my most favorite moments as of late - moments that are making my life awesome.
-I leaned over to Terry in the middle of Sunday School to tell him how an episode of 24 we recently watched related to the plan of salvation. All I had to say was "it's like when President Taylor" and he knew which one I was talking about and how it related.
-We stayed in our pajamas till 1 in the afternoon, watching the last few episodes of Gilmore Girls. Terry sings along with me every time the opening song comes on.
-I was walking across campus to go grab something from our car and I looked up and saw Terry in the street next to me, driving a golf cart with PowerAde on the back. We smiled and waved.
-Terry got an electric guitar for his birthday. He'll start playing it and ask what he should sing about. Usually I say me, but once I said he should write a song about 24. He did and it's so good!
-We went to the dollar theater to see the movie 2012. It was so over the top and completely absurd that we were both cracking up during the parts that were supposed to be really intense. We were the only ones in the theater laughing.
-I often fall asleep on the couch before I actually want to. Terry wakes me back up when it's time to go to bed. Apparently I become even more hilarious than usual in this state between sleep and wake. One night, I actually stayed awake all the way until it was time for bed. As we were going to sleep, Terry said he was going to wake me back up in 20 minutes just to hear what I was going to say.
I have to say, my life's pretty great. I have so much to be grateful for and so much to look forward to. To end, I'd like to share a quote I once heard in one of my classes:
"Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out and loudly proclaiming, 'Wow, what a ride!!!'"
-I leaned over to Terry in the middle of Sunday School to tell him how an episode of 24 we recently watched related to the plan of salvation. All I had to say was "it's like when President Taylor" and he knew which one I was talking about and how it related.
-We stayed in our pajamas till 1 in the afternoon, watching the last few episodes of Gilmore Girls. Terry sings along with me every time the opening song comes on.
-I was walking across campus to go grab something from our car and I looked up and saw Terry in the street next to me, driving a golf cart with PowerAde on the back. We smiled and waved.
-Terry got an electric guitar for his birthday. He'll start playing it and ask what he should sing about. Usually I say me, but once I said he should write a song about 24. He did and it's so good!
-We went to the dollar theater to see the movie 2012. It was so over the top and completely absurd that we were both cracking up during the parts that were supposed to be really intense. We were the only ones in the theater laughing.
-I often fall asleep on the couch before I actually want to. Terry wakes me back up when it's time to go to bed. Apparently I become even more hilarious than usual in this state between sleep and wake. One night, I actually stayed awake all the way until it was time for bed. As we were going to sleep, Terry said he was going to wake me back up in 20 minutes just to hear what I was going to say.
I have to say, my life's pretty great. I have so much to be grateful for and so much to look forward to. To end, I'd like to share a quote I once heard in one of my classes:
"Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out and loudly proclaiming, 'Wow, what a ride!!!'"
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
One Month and Counting
Today is our one month anniversary. Hooray! We decided to celebrate by going out to Cafe Rio. This was doubly delicious since it meant that I not only got a pork salad, but that I didn't have to make dinner when I got home. We had a great time. Then when we got home, I walked into the kitchen to find half a dozen red roses sitting in a vase on the table for me!Obviously, I got the best guy out there. And to add to that, Terry's currently breaking down and throwing away all of the big boxes from the beautiful bookshelf we bought yesterday. World's Best Husband Award? I think so. :)
Sunday, January 17, 2010
How to Dye Your Nostril Hairs
1. Decide that the old paint job on the stove looks hideous and that it needs a new one.
2. Go to Home Depot to pick up heat-resistant appliance paint. If you have trouble deciding between white and almond, flip a coin. Best out of three.
3. On a lazy afternoon in the middle of unpacking more of your stuff, decide it's time to get around to repainting the stove.
4. Take almost no precautions in your preparations to paint. Disregard the instructions on the back of the spray paint can that say to only paint in a well-ventilated area, such as a garage. You may move the stove out of its spot so that you can get to all four sides, but you do not unplug it.
5. Cover up the handles and buttons on the stove with newspaper and athletic tape. Do not cover up anything else in the kitchen.
6. Begin spraying.
7. When your wife insists that you at least lay newspaper down around the stove, do so.
8. Resume spraying while your wife quickly covers the table and chairs with old sheets.
9. Open every window and door so you can keep on breathing, even though it's winter outside.
10. When you have finished spraypainting, there will be a sort of residual paint dust that will linger in the air in your house for hours. Simply continue breathing and - voila! Your nostril hairs will now be a lovely shade of almond.
2. Go to Home Depot to pick up heat-resistant appliance paint. If you have trouble deciding between white and almond, flip a coin. Best out of three.
3. On a lazy afternoon in the middle of unpacking more of your stuff, decide it's time to get around to repainting the stove.
4. Take almost no precautions in your preparations to paint. Disregard the instructions on the back of the spray paint can that say to only paint in a well-ventilated area, such as a garage. You may move the stove out of its spot so that you can get to all four sides, but you do not unplug it.
5. Cover up the handles and buttons on the stove with newspaper and athletic tape. Do not cover up anything else in the kitchen.
6. Begin spraying.
7. When your wife insists that you at least lay newspaper down around the stove, do so.
8. Resume spraying while your wife quickly covers the table and chairs with old sheets.
9. Open every window and door so you can keep on breathing, even though it's winter outside.
10. When you have finished spraypainting, there will be a sort of residual paint dust that will linger in the air in your house for hours. Simply continue breathing and - voila! Your nostril hairs will now be a lovely shade of almond.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Of Washing Machines and Water
After having shamefully neglected our laundry for several weeks, Terry and I decided to take it to his grandparents' house to wash it. We figured this would give us free laundry services, clean clothes, and several hours to watch 24 while we waited. Sounds great right? But nothing could have prepared us for what was about to come.
We loaded all of our white clothing into the washer, sprinkled on a liberal amount of detergent, closed the lid and hit the button. But something didn't sound quite right. All we heard was a tiny little drip . . . drip . . . drip. We opened it back up to investigate. Our clothes were now wet enough that we didn't want to move them, but not wet enough to wash them. None of the sinks would turn on either. After numerous phone calls to Terry's parents, we discovered that a neighbor had seen the sprinklers on in the lawn that morning and had called the fire department to turn off the water. AH!
What other option did we have? We solemnly clasped hands, looked each other in the eye, and swore that we would turn the water back on or die trying. Ok not really. But we did want the water back on. We were under the impression that we had to turn some faucet thing that was located outside somewhere. So we grabbed a few flashlights and started following the freshest tracks in the snow, hoping they would lead us to something. And they did! They led us to all sorts of things - the air conditioner, the internet hookup, and all kinds of electrical boxes. But no water.
At this point, we decided to make a quick trip to Macey's to pick up a prescription before they closed. On our way into the parking lot, I spotted a big red fire truck in the adjacent lot. "Terry! The firemen are at Macey's!" I yelled. "They were the ones who turned off the water! We should find them and ask how to turn it back on!" I was so proud of my idea - what better way to contact the firemen than to run into them at the grocery store? Terry just laughed until he saw the firemen walking out of the store back to their truck. Then he rolled down the window and called the firemen over. He explained our predicament and asked if they knew how to turn on the water. They told us that there was a circular plate somewhere in the yard that said "WATER" on it. All we had to do was lift that up, and turn something under it. When we asked if we needed any special tools the guy said "Nope. Just a wrench. Oh and long arms." Um, long arms????
Upon returning to the house, we were quickly able to locate this elusive source-of-all-water. So, grabbing a wrench and the flashlights, we headed out to turn this thing. How long could this take, right? I mean really. All we had to do was turn something. Again, how very wrong we were.
When we got the plate off the ground, we discovered why the fireman had said we would need long arms. Under the plate was a large hole in the ground - probably about the length of an arm. In the middle of it were several pipes. And all around the pipes was dark, dirty, icy water. Sigh. Terry, being the wonderful, brave, and handsome guy that he is, rolled up his shirt sleeve and plunged his arm, holding the wrench, into the water. He tried for a few seconds to turn the little piece that looked like it could be turned, but pretty soon his whole arm was too cold and numb to continue.
Then our brains kicked in and we realized that we should first get the water out of the hole. Duh. So we grabbed a pot and bailed. It was so cold we could hear the water freezing moments after it hit the street. But it helped to have the water out and after another 10 minutes of pulling, prying, twisting, and pushing, Terry got the dang thing to turn.
At the happy sound of gurgling water beneath our feet, we both let out a victorious yell and breathed a sigh of relief. This victory was short-lived however, as we heard the tell-tale sound of a sprinkler, inches from where we were both standing.
Ya know, sometimes life just plays you a hard hand. Sometimes your favorite ice cream is out at the store, or you get to the dollar theater too late to get tickets to your movie, or your luggage on your honeymoon gets sent to New Jersey instead of Cancun. And sometimes you just can't turn off the dang sprinklers. Sometimes they stay on even if you unplug the system and turn it to off. Sometimes you have to leave them on for hours while you do (half of) your laundry. And sometimes the only way to get them to turn off is to turn off all the water again. This was one of those times.
We thought turning off the water would be even worse than turning it on because by now, the sprinklers were running and would fill up the hole in the ground with water faster than we could bail it out. And true, this meant Terry had to do the whole thing while lying flat on his stomach in the snow, with his arm in ice cold water. That part was worse I'm sure. But the universe threw us a bone and this time, it only took a few seconds to turn the faucet back to off.
And so, with freezing hands and clean clothes (or at least, half of them were clean), we returned home, swearing to never do laundry again. JK. But next time, we're going to MY grandparents' house.
We loaded all of our white clothing into the washer, sprinkled on a liberal amount of detergent, closed the lid and hit the button. But something didn't sound quite right. All we heard was a tiny little drip . . . drip . . . drip. We opened it back up to investigate. Our clothes were now wet enough that we didn't want to move them, but not wet enough to wash them. None of the sinks would turn on either. After numerous phone calls to Terry's parents, we discovered that a neighbor had seen the sprinklers on in the lawn that morning and had called the fire department to turn off the water. AH!
What other option did we have? We solemnly clasped hands, looked each other in the eye, and swore that we would turn the water back on or die trying. Ok not really. But we did want the water back on. We were under the impression that we had to turn some faucet thing that was located outside somewhere. So we grabbed a few flashlights and started following the freshest tracks in the snow, hoping they would lead us to something. And they did! They led us to all sorts of things - the air conditioner, the internet hookup, and all kinds of electrical boxes. But no water.
At this point, we decided to make a quick trip to Macey's to pick up a prescription before they closed. On our way into the parking lot, I spotted a big red fire truck in the adjacent lot. "Terry! The firemen are at Macey's!" I yelled. "They were the ones who turned off the water! We should find them and ask how to turn it back on!" I was so proud of my idea - what better way to contact the firemen than to run into them at the grocery store? Terry just laughed until he saw the firemen walking out of the store back to their truck. Then he rolled down the window and called the firemen over. He explained our predicament and asked if they knew how to turn on the water. They told us that there was a circular plate somewhere in the yard that said "WATER" on it. All we had to do was lift that up, and turn something under it. When we asked if we needed any special tools the guy said "Nope. Just a wrench. Oh and long arms." Um, long arms????
Upon returning to the house, we were quickly able to locate this elusive source-of-all-water. So, grabbing a wrench and the flashlights, we headed out to turn this thing. How long could this take, right? I mean really. All we had to do was turn something. Again, how very wrong we were.
When we got the plate off the ground, we discovered why the fireman had said we would need long arms. Under the plate was a large hole in the ground - probably about the length of an arm. In the middle of it were several pipes. And all around the pipes was dark, dirty, icy water. Sigh. Terry, being the wonderful, brave, and handsome guy that he is, rolled up his shirt sleeve and plunged his arm, holding the wrench, into the water. He tried for a few seconds to turn the little piece that looked like it could be turned, but pretty soon his whole arm was too cold and numb to continue.
Then our brains kicked in and we realized that we should first get the water out of the hole. Duh. So we grabbed a pot and bailed. It was so cold we could hear the water freezing moments after it hit the street. But it helped to have the water out and after another 10 minutes of pulling, prying, twisting, and pushing, Terry got the dang thing to turn.
At the happy sound of gurgling water beneath our feet, we both let out a victorious yell and breathed a sigh of relief. This victory was short-lived however, as we heard the tell-tale sound of a sprinkler, inches from where we were both standing.
Ya know, sometimes life just plays you a hard hand. Sometimes your favorite ice cream is out at the store, or you get to the dollar theater too late to get tickets to your movie, or your luggage on your honeymoon gets sent to New Jersey instead of Cancun. And sometimes you just can't turn off the dang sprinklers. Sometimes they stay on even if you unplug the system and turn it to off. Sometimes you have to leave them on for hours while you do (half of) your laundry. And sometimes the only way to get them to turn off is to turn off all the water again. This was one of those times.
We thought turning off the water would be even worse than turning it on because by now, the sprinklers were running and would fill up the hole in the ground with water faster than we could bail it out. And true, this meant Terry had to do the whole thing while lying flat on his stomach in the snow, with his arm in ice cold water. That part was worse I'm sure. But the universe threw us a bone and this time, it only took a few seconds to turn the faucet back to off.
And so, with freezing hands and clean clothes (or at least, half of them were clean), we returned home, swearing to never do laundry again. JK. But next time, we're going to MY grandparents' house.
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