Archive for June, 2007

If I wanted to sum up the last two weeks’ worth of conversations in my little corner of the world, the dialog might go something like this:

Me: House?

Him: House. House, house! House?

Me: House! House house house. House house, house, house house house.

Him: House. House house.

Rinse and repeat. Needless to say, when I’m not working or doing my usual scheming over new ways to take over the world, I’m thinking about the House-with-a-captial-H. The house we are buying. Did you read that? Buying. A house.

It’s actually a townhouse. It’s in a great neighborhood. It’s within walking distance to the workplace. It has closets up the wazoo, three floors, a semi-finished basement, a master suite (I feel like I have to append “bitches!” at the end of that - it’s not just a “master suite,” it’s a “master suite, bitches!”) with a balcony (a balcony! Off the bedroom! It’s like Hollywood! Except in Maine, and without the paparazzi! We can take our careless, naked cavorting to a whole new level), a deck, a yard, and lots of trees.

Obviously I can’t wait to move in, but the whole process has me acting a bit unsettled like a lunatic. One moment I’m perfectly fine, and the next I’m bawling into my Cheerios. Except I don’t even eat Cheerios, which just goes to show you how totally out of sorts I am.

All this to say, it was a welcome distraction to find one of my photographs on the front page of Etsy this morning. Yay! Something to get excited about that doesn’t involve forking over the entire contents of my savings account!

Thanks to Spiderbite, who curated this beautiful, haunting treasury, and saved me a few moments of sanity in the process.

Gee wiz! We’re going to put in an offer on a house. A house!

… And now I’ve probably jinxed the whole ordeal by saying something. Note to self: In the future, don’t blog about Major Life Events until you’re absotively posolutely sure about ‘em. Mmkay? But since I’ve already fecked it all up, here’s how it’s going to go down:

Us, plus one house, equals… headaches! Anxiety! Nausea! Mild constipation and a burning rash across the inner thigh!

I get it! Buying a house is kind of like having the flu! For 30 straight years!

No, no, everyone tells me; that gastric discomfort you’re feeling is just the anticipation of the pride you’ll feel when you become a new homeowner. Really.

The rash? Well, they have clinics for that.

The point is, we’d finally be out from the under the proverbial landlord’s foot. I just did the math, and over the last five years, we’ve spent approximately 36k on rent alone. That’s a lot of brand new cameras, the likes of which I’ll never see because we may or may not be buying a house. A house.

And did I mention the part about the house?

Besides… we’ve spent two years scaring the neighbors with our careless, naked cavorting in front of wide open windows (curtains are for sissies). It’s time to take this show on the road! 15 miles down the road, to be exact. Practically on the doorstep of our employer, no less.

And we’d be building equity! EQUITY!

(… what’s equity, anyway?)

I’m kidding. I know what equity is.

Mostly.

Ahem.

Wish us luck!

the teapot stalker
Originally uploaded by calobee

Oh, dear Internets, it was a crazy weekend. Even Monday Morning Syndrome is preferable to such drama, the likes of which a Sunday should never see. No one should ever wake me up before 8 on a Sunday morning unless someone I love is missing or dead, and this was a case of the former. Thankfully it was a false alarm, but so many hours of worrying takes its toll… I’m beat.

On a happier note, the weekend before last was Photo Shoot Weekend! And I was almost entirely unprepared!

Solution: Take every photo shoot prop I own from my closet, drag everything (with help from Hannah, the wonderful model) to one of the local parks, and just play it by ear. This technique usually doesn’t work to my advantage… I’m a bit on the, err, anal retentive side. And I’m picky. And anxious. Did I mention anal?

It’s probably appropriate that I am so, because I totally pulled this one outta you-know-where. It’s all good, and I loved what came from it… love love. Once again, the photos may or may not be spoken for, so I can’t reveal the whole shoot just yet. Too bad, so sad.

Oh, and once again, I’m the owner of one of those dreadful cell phone things. I don’t know quite how this happened, but there you have it. It’s shiny, it’s pink, and it plays a Joshua Radin ring tone (”Closer”, for the nosy), so I forgive it… for now. And I promise to practice common cell phone courtesy.