Too cool to link
As I posted the previous post about the book I just finished, it occurred to me (as it always does) that I never link the picture to Amazon or anything. The problem with that is that would be so expected. I mean, everyone does that. I'm just way too cool to link.
Eh, who am I kidding? We all know I'm just way too LAZY to link! I got no shame in my game, I own it.
So as usual, nothing new going on here. Unless, of course, you want to here about stuff like... Maddie got her braces tightened the other day.... and I had bronchitis and have been battling for it to not turn into pneumonia (I think I'm winning)... and my neighbors are retarded.
Ugh, yes, the neighbors. They've been here for about a month and have just been a nuisance since they arrived. First it was their inability to clean up after their dog (a cardinal sin of apartment living) and at one point there were at least TEN piles all around the bottom of my stairs. Yeah, NOT okay. Now it's that their door constantly SLAMS as their bad kids come in and out all day. These are the same kids that left a rainbow of CRAYONS on the stairs in the afternoon Phoenix sun the other day and made waxy, colored soup all over the stairs... that they didn't clean up! Who does that? I mean, the Lord knows my kids can do some stuff (especially when the boy was little), but I always felt mortified about it, apologizing and cleaning it up as soon as I found out about it. These guys? Nah brah. Nothing.
Which.... is one of the reasons I would like to M-O-V-E. Oh, I like it here good enough. There's something to be said for having maintenance men and pool boys...and a gym (that I never use) and a great pool & great room, etc etc etc. BUT, at what cost? I want space & privacy and I want my kids to be raised around people who are a tad more settled into a dwelling than some of these apartment dwellers. The thought of a big, fat house with wide open spaces (and no stairs to climb simply to get in the front door) is very enticing. Of course, when I moved here, I got rid of just about EVERYTHING, so I have no idea what it is that I would be furnishing this big, fat house with. Especially since whether now or later, I'm sure Paul would be moving in with me and (don't tell him I said this because it would hurt his feelings. Okay, I know this because I already told him and it DID hurt his feelings) his belongings are kind of.... um..... choosing words.....choosing words.......... yeah, there's no polite way to put it. They are blatantly outdated. Wow, I think that was a gracious way of putting that. Yeah, his taste level just makes me close my eyes and suck in my lips while shaking my head nooooooo.
Like I said, didn't go over so well. Which, okay, I totally do NOT get! WHY would you not understand that the bedroom furniture from the 60's or 70's that you inherited is outdated? And when I say we would need to buy a new fridge, WHY would you have a panic attack & kind of lose your shit a little and say, "But I have a perfectly GOOD one! What's wrong with it??" (Said refrigerator is harvest gold and wheezing/on her death bed as we speak). I have only two words that will suffice here.....
Keep this under wraps though because like I said, he's SUPER sensitive in this area. He might skip my goodmorning text again because he's all hurt about his 1990 entertainment center with the smoked glass doors that I said I thought was a little out of date. It's like he sees these pieces of furniture as pieces of self. Like instead of saying, "I think you need a new fridge", what he hears is "Paul, I think you suck as a human being." So I'm trying to be nice and compassionate and help him work through his hurt feelings by trying to, um, *cough, cough* COMPROMISE.
Yes, you heard it right.... compromise. ME. And he wants more more more. He has NO IDEA who he's dealing with and what blood he's getting from a turnip already! I even agreed to keep one of his dogs. Yeah, I know. I broke out in a cold sweat just typing that one.
So let's recap... if and when this ever happens, I have offered to keep (at least temporarily) really, really, really bad furniture (A LOT of it), a dog and possibly even a bird (oh gosh, I can't believe I even went there). You know me! I'm not even trying to live in your petting zoo. I think he needs to talk to some people who know the real program and he needs to get there, because he has no clue how much that is for me to offer. And truthfully, I'm about to renig on the whole thing. I'm about to say, "you know what? You want to think I'm selfish and unwilling to compromise? Then I will just do what comes natural to me and say, NO! There will be NO animals in the general vicinity of ME. And NO! we will not be bringing along ANY home furnishings or appliances that are not from this century! Etc etc etc. Ugh.
All that venting aside, I think it would be great to be in a house, and all the other positive things that go along with it. He's a great guy and he brings a lot more than old furniture (and pet hair) to the table. He brings a plethora of good as well, which is why I've been willing to compromise. But how much is too much? How much is enough? Ugh, this is foreign territory to me. Compromise. Pshhhh.