04.07.2003 - 3:06 p.m.
The wine/food event we went to last night was a blast.
I sampled about a jillion different wonderful wines and drunkenly
devoured food from some of the best restaurants in town. There
was a marvelous duck thing with cherries from The Herb Farm,
smoked scallops with wasabi-infused roe from Wild Ginger, paddlefish
caviar from The Seattle Caviar Company. And doughnuts! From Krispy
Kreme! Oh, the debauchery.
JB, who ate even more than
I did, was paying for it this morning. Behind the closed bathroom
door, he mournfully sang the lyrics from a Johnny Cash song:
"And it burns burns
the ring of fire
the ring of fire."
I love being a homeowner, but
there's this never-ending series of maintenance type activities
that are apparently required in order for the house to continue
to function properly. And they all cost money. Money I
could be spending on like 50 more pairs of yoga pants from Old
Navy (because they rock so very very much), or something.
A couple weeks ago we had trouble
with the heater, so JB had some repair guys come out. They fixed
it, but told us our ventilation system needed cleaning. Fine,
we said, and they came back armed with a giant vacuuming device
that they hooked up to all the vents in our house via big tubes,
so the house kind of felt like the end of E.T. with all the top
secret government alien-protecting plastic everywhere, you know
which part I mean? Anyway, they hoovered out whatever junk was
in there, and JB peered manfully into the pile of collected stuff.
"I'm not sure I'm convinced
you guys are getting everything," JB told them, sounding
vaguely like Marge in Fargo ("I'm not sure I agree with
you a hundred percent on your police work, there, Lou.").
He sifted his hand through the vacuum container. "I mean,
there's no cat food in here."
What JB meant was that one
of our vents is in the utility room where the cat food bowl is
kept. He'd forgotten that we closed it the day we moved in, practically,
in order to avoid the assumedly horrible aroma of burning kibble.
The most recent house expense
has been fixing a drainage problem. Rainwater was collecting
at a spot near the foundation, which is bad, because it could
make the house explode, or go on a killing rampage, or something,
so JB dug away for an afternoon and put in a tube to drain the
water further away. Unfortunately, it resulted in a major huge
puddle in the backyard, which Dog went absolutely bonkers for.
Every time it rained, and might I remind you I live in Seattle
(fine - Bellevue, you west-side-east-side SNOB), the puddle would
send its sweet siren call to Dog, who would promptly coat herself
and every nearby surface with a thick coating of mud. Plus, the
backyard was really starting to look like shit, all water-logged.
So the drainage guys had to
come out, and dig a humongous trench which then got filled with
rocks and dirt and BLAH BLAH BLAH it all costs moola-fuckin-boola
just to maintain, you know? It's not like we're adding
hot tubs and walk-in closets and two car garages, much as we
would like to.
Seriously? Those yoga pants?
Are so awesome.
Apparently, it's not just Our
Old House that is in need of some repair. Here is an email sent
out to Workplace this morning:
----- Original Message
From: our office manager
To: everyone at Workplace
Sent: Monday, April 07, 2003 10:27 AM
Please be careful when
you are walking under the existing Solar Tubes. They seem to
be falling from the sky.
go back :::
comments so far.
I have moved. - 1.03.2005
Obviously, a work in progress. - 12.27.2004
Happy holidays! - 12.24.2004
Listen, I am not a complete dick, it's not like I want Joe to die alone surrounded by cats or something. - 12.23.2004
Plus I am convinced my butt is extra big when it's upside down. - 12.22.2004