Almost Party Time!

The party is tomorrow night, and right now I'm pretty calm. I've done just about as much as I can, the rest is up to fate. The house is as clean as it's going to get, and the groceries are all purchased. Tonight I'm walking around putting things away and washing an outfit to wear.

I still have an unassembled sofa in my living room, and I also have a partially-assembled entertainment bench in the study. The entertainment center isn't a big deal -- I should have it finished before I go to sleep -- and hopefully D. and I can fix the sofa tomorrow. I just can't do it by myself.

Looks like I'll have about fifteen people, which should be large enough to be interesting. Some of my friends from other departments are comming, too, which I'm very pleased with. I don't want it to be all IT people all the time.

Trying to resist the urge to BUY STUFF. I talked myself out of silverware today, and also out of a small bookcase. Really, really want new silverware, but who am I kidding? I can't afford silverware for fifteen people. Plus I didn't want any until I saw this set at Ross, so I can't really want it that badly.

Can't believe how calm I am. I hope I can keep this feeling tomorrow, and not get all emotionally hyperextended.

I Hate Cleaning

Today I decided to get really, really clean and take care of my cat-hair-infested sofa. It's a Mysinge from Ikea, and one of its selling points is the removable, easy washable sofa cover.

Problem is that they're easy washable. Not easy-removable. My sofa is now lying on my living room floor in almost one piece. I can't quite take it apart, but I can't put it back together either.

I was not made to be single. There should be a guy in the picture somewhere, helping me with this damn thing.



Also my wind chime arrived broken, and I can't find my Guerilla Glue.

I've been awake almost four hours, and the most productive thing I've done is to make an origami ball for my niece.

(later)

I found a Sears Mastercard I had never activated. It has a nice, large credit line attached, which is why I never activated it. Now I can go buy a new sofa, if I can find a place to buy one that can 1) deliver it this week and 2) assemble the damn thing if necessary.

(later)

Didn't buy a sofa. Common sense took over. If I'm going to pay full retail for something then it will have to be something I really love, like a Todd Oldham sofa.

Managed to get all the sofa covers off the damn thing, and now the first load is in the wash.

While sofa-shopping online I saw that Target had marked down my entertainment unit. (It's officially called TV/media bench.) I met my sister R and B-I-L D for dinner, and after dinner they agreed to drive to Target and help me buy the bench. I'm on their way home so they stopped by the house and even carried it in for me. Once that was in the house, D and R took the ugly folding door off the kitchen, and screwed the back on my 50s vanity.

I don't know how I'd ever do all this without help. They even said they would help with the sofa, but since the covers are still in the washer we had to skip that.

I think every muscle in my body is screaming. D and I cleaned for nine hours. I can't believe how much we accomplished. She even made the ugly white fridge look good, making the need for a fridge swap obsolete. She even suggested painting over the spots with appliance touch-up paint. I didn't even know such a thing existed.

D was terrific. I hadn't planned on accomplishing this much today. I thought we would be doing good to finish the kitchen and remove the more obvious clutter from the living room, but we even cleaned the study!! All R's books are boxed and moved out of sight. The floors have been swept. I could not have done all this without her help. She probably saved the party. I was seriously considering renting a space somewhere instead of having it at my home.

We even re-arranged the furniture in the living room, and completed my abandoned tissue-paper window treatment. We (OK, D) even assembled all my matching rice-paper lamps.

I can't believe how much better everything looks!!! I am in shock. This is the colorful modern house I've been after, the one free of clutter and full of life and art. Now if I can only keep it this way. Maybe I should hire a house-cleaning service. Doesn't all the time, energy and money I spend decorating justify a once-a-week home cleaning?

There are still things to be done -- each bathroom needs to be cleaned, and the floors need to be mopped. And that stupid brown refrigerator needs to be removed so I can get back into my laundry room. The studio is still a certified disaster area, too, but I can throw a party with a wrecked studio.

If I can get the bathrooms cleaned tomorrow I think I'll reward myself by painting the breakfast room. It won't take much time or effort -- just another gallon of paint and about four hours. I could do it Monday night after class. I'm going to mop on Wednesday. I think maybe I'll skip Team Lead next week so I have an extra day to work.

Must take a bath, soak my muscles, and try out my new bed.

Final Countdown Under Way

Eight days until the party. My house is still a disaster, but it's a manageable disaster. D. has volunteered to help me. Wow. I didn't think I was close enough to any of my work friends to get that kind of assistance, but she volunteered.

So I'm trying to get a huge amount of work done before she arrives, so we won't have quite as much to work through. I want to get the living room and the kitchen TOTALLY finished. That means all clutter removed, floors mopped, cabinet liners in place, last load of dishes washed, oven cleaned . . . in other words, I have a busy evening ahead. And it's already 8:30. I'm starting so late because (drum roll)

I GOT A MATTRESS!!!!

Wednesday night we went mattress-shopping, an experience on par with buying a used car. We went to two of those "discount" mattress places, where I was told the memory foam mattresses I've been seeing for about $500 were not "true" viscose foam, and that they didn't come with a ten-year warranty anyway.

I asked why the mattresses weren't "true" viscose, and the salesman said foam wasn't dense enough, which sounded fishy to me. Especially since everything I've read online says the less-dense foam doesn't trap body heat (an issue with memory foam) and it also reshapes itself quicker.

The warranty stuff was a total lie, too -- the off-brands also have a ten-year warranty. And it's a better warranty than the Tempurpedic mattress comes with. I've read in SEVERAL blogs that people who try to collect on that warranty can't because the company sends out "experts" who examine the mattress and find (surprise!) nothing wrong with the mattress. The mattress instructions also recommend sleeping without sheets, but the warranty is void if the mattress looks soiled.

Of course what I've read online might be bunk, posted by people who make the more inexpensive mattresses for a living. But then again the salesman wasn't totally honest about the warranty situation on those mattresses, and if he was wrong about that he could be wrong about everything else.

The deciding factor was the one thing I knew for a fact -- the price.

The memory foam mattress the store was trying to sell me was $2K. Let's do a little math . . . if I buy a $500 mattress I can afford to replace it four times before the cost equals the cost of the name-brand mattress. And that isn't counting the finance charges I'd have to incur on the expensive mattress. A no-brainer indeed.

So tonight Dad took me to Sam's, where we found a memory foam mattress for $497.88. It was a funny experience -- the mattress came in a box about 2x2x4, equipped with wheels so I could push it through the store. They ship them vacuum-compressed. We had to place it on the bed and cut through three layers of wrapping designed to help it stay compressed.

I have to wait twenty-four hours before I can sleep in it. Mom thinks it's too low to the ground, but she doesn't understand that's really the trend. My headboard is actually a little large for such a low mattress, but I can live with it. I made the bed so I could see how the pink sheets and the yo-yo quilt work, and I must say I'm in love. It's feminine, but not males-race-from-the-room feminine.

I can't wait to finish everything. My vanity moves in tomorrow.

Must quit writing and start cleaning.

Frenzy's End

Dad made me cry today. He offered to put my bed together and buy me a mattress. I can't believe it. I broke into tears. I'm so grateful, and so lucky. My family is amazing.

It didn't quite work out as planned. The bed didn't have all the necessary hardware, so we couldn't assemble it without a trip to Home Depot, and it's raining so we didn't want to get the mattress wet. They did come to the house and helped me get started. Mom cleaned out most of the bedroom tub, and suggested we buy a fern to put in the corner for the party. Dad started on the bed, and also moved my bookcase/desk out of storage and into the hallway where it will live permanently.

Having cheerful people in the house working goaded me into working, too, so I cleaned the living room. There are a few more things I need to do to that room, but it's finished for the most part.

I went to Big Lots today and found perfect CD storage for $5 per unit, well below my $8 price point. I went ahead and scooped up eight units. They're wonderful little boxes, the kind of thing that's usually covered with flowers (ugh) or cappucino-type illustrations. Today, though, they featured Mexican tile designs, mainly in blue and green. Four of them hold my entire CD collection, but I'm sure in ten years I'll have all eight filled.

Tonight's focus will be the study. The horrible study, which I've put off almost as long as the kitchen. I'm going to box the last of R's stuff, and (possibly) assemble an entertainment center. I'm on my way to Target now, to see if the one I want is in stock. It's actually cheaper than the one at Ikea, and it matches the silver plastic feet on my desk set.

Also want to stop at the Salvation Army, and see if they have a blonde dresser. I was originally going for a darker dresser, but now I'm thinking blonde will be better.

I'm in the market for a small table, too. I think I'm going to move my console table into the TV room, and put the new chrome chairs in the corner with a table. Or maybe put them in the actual breakfast room. That would be different.

Financial Straits

Finally surrendered and bought something pretty after an entire day of browsing. I've been very good -- I left the stackable trays (on my want list for over a year) and the entertainment center and the almost-right mirror and the curtains and everything else I've been enchanted with.

This wind chime won.



After all, it isn't really a wind chime. It's a poor-woman's burglar alarm.

Gods, I have got to get my finances under control. I need to have something in my life I can count on. I can't control my career, or my weight, or my heart. I must control my finances. I have to get out of this (not very) large debt, and start paying attention to my spending habits.

(later)

My curtain rods, which I slaved over, are crooked. And not a little crooked, either, but about two inches off. How is this possible?

This party is a bad idea. My home is a mess, I can't fix it by myself, and I don't want to cook all that damn food or clean any more. I have eleven days until the party, and enough of a mess to make me cry. Hell, I have cried. Broke down in tears when I saw the curtain rod.

I wish I had enough money to hire two or three people to just come do things at my direction. People to carry boxes from one room to another, people to wrap glassware and store it in the garage, people to hang the new surge protector behind the file cabinets and de-tangle my computer setup. Someone to quickly re-upholstery my vanity stool, and someone else willing to drive to the grocery store.

I wish I had friends, really good friends like in the past. I miss the days when I could call all the guys with a promise of home-cooked hamburgers, and in return get an afternoon's labor and laughter.

I don't want to go back, but I do miss elements of my past. I'm not finding much to laugh at here by myself.

Plans Gone Awry

I lost a cleaning day. My Mom called shortly after I woke up. She's going to the quilt show with her fashionista sisters, and wanted me to help her find an outfit. At first I turned her down, but she was so excited about her new hair style. She was even talking about (gasp) makeup. I gave in (of course) and spent the bulk of the day at the mall.

I love her new haircut!!!! The stylist cut it short, and chopped off all that brassy home-applied dead-wrong hair color, leaving her with more of her natural gray. It's sassy, and a MUCH better match for her skin tone. She actually let me put makeup on her, and is contemplating buying some of her own. I'm a little jealous -- she's able to pull off the teal eye shadow I bought myself, the one that adds about ten pounds to my face.

We started out in Dillard's plus-size department, a disheartening experience for all involved. It's all pastels and tent-like mu-mus. Totally unappealing shapelessness. Mom kept picking up gypsy skirts with w-i-d-e elastic waistbands (just what every overweight girl needs) and enough heavy fabric to cover a loveseat.

Then we wandered over to the Misses section, looking (inexplicably) for jeans in a size 18. Um. I'm not sure what she was thinking -- we'd be lucky to find something in a 16. I suggested we go to a plus-size shop, but Mom insisted the proportions at "those stores" was all wrong for her size 18 body. That's when I realized Mom was having body image issues.

I went through all this myself when I hit a size 18 in college. She's trying to ward off the stigma of shopping in a place like Lane Bryant (aka Lane Giant) by buying clothing in a store she's comfortable with, a store that she feels isn't for "fat people."

I don't know how to break the news to her. She has exactly two options. Diet until she's back in a size 14, or admit that she's better off shopping in a store that actually carries her size, and that really understands what plus-sized fashion is all about. No, Dillard's is not an option.

I talked her into trying Lane Bryant. She started criticizing almost the moment we walked in the door and I had to channel Stacy from What Not To Wear and tell her it wouldn't hurt to try on these gorgeous linen pants. While she was eyeballing a rack of sweaters I walked around and grabbed about eight things for her to try on. I stuck her in a dressing room, and the salesgirl and I wouldn't let her leave. We just kept throwing clothing at her.

She really needs new jeans -- the ones she's wearing are elastic waist all around. Ugh. I tried to get her into two pairs, but I never actually saw them on her body so I don't know what the specific problems are. I think maybe the biggest problem is that she's actually NOT a size 18 but actually a 20 or better, but if I started tackling that issue we'd get into painful territory, so I focused on skirts and camouflaging her jeans instead.

We finally settled on a fantastic red shirt. She needed something under it, and by that time she was so frazzled she had adapted male shopping patterns -- see, buy, run -- and tried to purchase a black rib knit cami without trying it on. The salesgirl and I talked her into giving it a try, and I'm happy we did -- it was way too long, and looked horrible. If she had better jeans she could tuck it in, but the front of those jeans needed to be hidden from view.

About six camis later we finally found a winner. By that time she was getting into the spirit of things, and even let me add a FANTASTIC silver necklace. We liked the results so much we duplicated the outfit in different colors. Red shirt paired with brown cami, and beautiful blue shirt with black cami.

After dinner at La Madeline we went shoe shopping, and after a mere half-hour in Rack Room Shoes she found two pairs of sandals, one in black and one in brown. Now maybe I can "misplace" those velcro things she's wearing on her feet now. I know, I know -- velcro sandals are "in." I don't care. Velcro looks dirty too quickly, and it adds bulk around the ankle. No one should wear velcro, unless they're also wearing a tent-like mu-mu to complete the effect.

Anyway, she looks good and she's happy with her purchases, and I agreed to stay overnight to do her makeup tomorrow morning.

I'm facing my own personal What Not To Wear issue. I'm trying to talk myself into giving up above-the-knee skirts. I don't want to. I feel lighter in short skirts, and my legs are probably the least offensive part of my body. I've quit wearing them to work (they never belonged there to begin with, a rule I know and ignored) but now I need to give them up in my free time, too. I'm thirty-six, after all. If I really want to show some leg I can wear a pair of shorts. But I don't want to. I want to wear short skirts, especially the brown one with bronze sequin I spotted today and didn't even try on because I had to deal with Mom.

TOMORROW I move into my bedroom. Really. I will go directly home in the morning and clean. I will not stop to purchase an entertainment center, or the blue sequin shower curtain I want to use to hide my washer and dryer, or a side table to pair with my new black leather and chrome director's chairs. I will go home and clean. I will be in a new bedroom by the end of the day. Really.

BREAK!!!

Very busy Spring Break. I'm throwing a party on April Fool's, which means I have this week and this week only to get all the difficult cleaning/decorating out of the way. After all, I can't throw a party with my mattress in the middle of the living room.

The bedroom floors are finally, really, honestly finished, so I'll be moving into the bedroom on Saturday. (The floors are "hardening" now, but they're finished for all practical purposes.) Floors so glossy you can see your reflection in them. I applied the second coat of varnish barefoot to avoid tracking in dirt, and I had trouble telling the dry varnish from the wet. I mis-calculated at one point, and found myself accidentally skating across the floor, both arms stretched out in front of me for balance. Ugh. Varnish all over my feet.

Wonderful sister C. and I spent about fourteen hours on the kitchen alone, and we aren't quite finished yet. The grime and dirt in that area is left over from R.'s tenure. I cleaned up enough of the kitchen to store my tiny selection of dishes (exactly three cabinets) and left the rest for another day. It was just too overwhelming for me to ever tackle by myself. Dust and dirt everywhere. We had to use an electric toothbrush on all the cabinets, and two full bottles of Tilex, and Gods know how much Comet.

At least all the sheer grossness moved out with R. I still remember the time I found the hanging baskets under the stove, hanging baskets I remembered from her previous home. There had been onions in them, I remembered. Hmm, what was all that papery stuff in the cabinet? Onions. The same onions from the house in University Park. They must have been there three years. The grossest part is that they were so dessicated they weren't even gross any longer.

I'm working on the floor this evening, stripping off more of the paint that R. misguidedly spread all over the adobe tiles. I actually like the painted-then-stripped tiles better than the unpainted tiles, but the look is too much work to duplicate elsewhere in the house.

Over the past two weeks I've also painted the entryway five times. It started out yellow, but the yellow was too bright so I mixed it with white and tried light yellow. Strike two. I went back to my original concept and painted it pink, which I really did like but I felt it was too girly. I mixed a lighter pink, which was also a failure. I refused to spend another $20 in paint, so in desperation I dug through my studio and found a pint of super-dark teal I bought for a project but never used. I dumped the teal into the light yellow and came out with seafoam green. I painted again, and it's tolerable. Not what I want, exactly, but I can live with it.



The original yellow, the lighter yellow, and the first coat of pink.



Yellow turning into pink.



Pink becoming seafoam



All Seafoam!!!

Also playing refrigerator-go-round. When my parents bought a new fridge the old one went to my grandmother. When she died sister R took it until she could get a better fridge, which finally happened last year. It's been in R's garage for months. Mine is horrible, and now that I'm inviting people into my home I'd like a fridge with, say, shelves. R bought the poor fridge to my house, and my ugly stepchild is going to sister C's home, where their family will use it in their new storage unit/workshop. My "new" fridge smells of mildew and mold. I'm trying to clean it, but the smell is making me hurl, and smells never make me hurl so you can imagine how bad it must be.

Tomorrow's plan is to finish the Fridge of Death, and also to pack the rest of R's belongings into the guest room closet, and to buy some Murphy's Oil and clean my vanity so it's ready for the bedroom on Saturday. I know I'll be lucky to finish half of that, but it's always good to have goals.

Emotionally I feel better than I have in a long time. I haven't answered my email all week. I've refused to return a vacation-interfering phone call from my annoying boss. And I've given up on ever having anything but the most casual and superficial of friendships with R. I've re-worked my five-year plan, and I fully intend to coast through the last eight weeks of the year and take the summer off.

Latest Stupid Idea

Since a long-term relationship is essentially a marriage of stuff, how about a dating site based on the premise? Men and women select each other based on what they've purchased recently from big sites like amazon.com or eBay. Cool stuff = cool person. The site could be called "Window Shopping."

Too much fun. One model could wear different outfits and people could rate the outfits. Then rate CDs. And bed linen. And cars.

I like this -- wonder if that Amazon.com hack book could help make it a reality.

And imagine all the money you could get in ad revenue!!!!

Spring (Break) To Do List

• Re-organize website
• Tally surveys
• Finish decorating bedroom
• Clean house for party

Gee, won't I have fun next week?