Posts tagged swearing

Clutter anxiety for the generally not-so-neat Nelly

Those first few months after moving in to my place were stressful to me. I didn’t have a schedule or routine to follow. I have never been one who needed that sort of thing, or so I thought. I misplaced my keys, coat, shoes… just leaving my house was pretty stressful until I figured out a rhyme and reason for departure.

Office clutter

Makes me want to scream.

One room I had to allow to remain cluttered was the office.

That’s where all the unpacked boxes with all the nonessentials went. Except I remember spending lots o’ precious time opening and closing all the boxes on these piles over and over looking for things. I would sometimes open and close every single one of them, just to start over again.

My Christmas gifts were not wrapped until late late on Christmas Eve because I couldn’t find the ribbons. Remember, I had moved in mere days before the holiday.

Office clutter

At one time, I really thought I would like to store my shoes in my office. Really?

Of course, the boxes were unpacked slowly but surely. I went to Lowes and bought a fun ladder shelf and bins to organize my office items into.

Office clutter

Starting to come together.

And note the lovely color on the wall. Still blue, but much less chalky and dark. Eventually, I’d like to refinish the floor, perhaps. I do love the real hardwood in here.

Office furniture

So needed.

And I got a desk and office chair for my birthday, which I now sit at to pay bills, and look at Pinterest and Facebook.

Give me some time and I’ll take a couple photos of my office all pulled together now (giggle) and clutter free (HAHAHAHA)…


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Project Paint Kitchen Cabinets: Undone

I’m in the middle of a huge project. I knew it would be a monster from the get-go, and I know I deserve no sympathy for taking it on. However, as I sit here today (sick), I can’t help but agonize.

I started this project Feb. 3, when my faithful helper helped me take down the doors on the top cabinets. I was going to start slowly to make this easy on myself.

kitchen cabinet painting

Day two: Painting to commence.

Aside: If you look at the photo above, you’ll see the stove I have here is different from what you saw in Preheating the oven. The reason for the change is a story in itself which I plan to share later. This new stove comes from my parent’s house, since they were getting new appliances anyway.

Kitchen cabinet painting

Sink side.

The first weekend of painting focused on prepping.

The first full day, I spent six hours prepping the doors from the top of the cabinets. I didn’t take photos.

Rest assured, there was probably an easier way out there. And I learned of one that was easier in some ways and harder in others in the post below…

Source: via Tracie on Pinterest

HA! I never would’ve done this if I had read that post first. NEVER! But my end results would probably be much nicer if I had, and then decided to follow in her footsteps. Moving on…

As I was prepping the doors, I first tried sanding. But when the cabinets had last been painted, they weren’t prepped very well. The paint was sort of balling up with the sandpaper. So, I started using a razor blade. I kid you not, I smelled the delicious smell of bacon as I scraped away that paint. It was probably the bacon of 20 years ago, but it smelled great.

Eventually, I was able to paint the backs of those doors, and move on to the cabinets on the wall. I lightly sanded those, and got a coat on. I loved it.

Kitchen cabinet painting

One coat on.

I began to see the progress I was hoping for. The kitchen looked brighter and cleaner. There would be a light at the end of this tunnel!

I just realized I never told you why I decided I should do this in the first place. I need to replace my kitchen floor. You’ll remember its true ugliness from Preheating the oven. Now, there is a lot to this story as well.

Long story short, it was very difficult to find flooring that matched the color of those cabinets. I knew I could go with almost any color if my cabinets were white.

Also, on Pinterest, I saw many many examples of beautiful kitchens with white cabinets. I loved the look of it, and I knew I could have it for myself with a little work. A little work. A little work. I keep telling myself that.

Kitchen cabinet painting

Progress, progress.

As of today, the work continues.

I’m not showing the latest photos here, because I want to be done with this before I bring my camera out again.

I hope to soon buy a range hood, stove, and refrigerator in white. I have found several nice used stoves for sale in my hometown. People who buy homes and want to upgrade to stainless steel appliances right away just sell the white stoves online. That’s a good thing for me! For my refrigerator, I would like to get something smaller, more suited to my small kitchen. Once all that is white, I really think everything will pop.

Today, the doors are downstairs, their fronts curing before I lightly sand them again for hopefully their final coat.

The drawers are in their slots, freshly painted, their knobs shining gorgeously against the Delicate White backdrop.

Source: via Olympic on Pinterest

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Preheating the oven

What a title, eh? Here’s the deal: after I closed on my house, I did not live in it for another three weeks. I had quite a bit of time to get things ready for the big move.

Cleaning my kitchen was a big job. The people who lived here before me were not clean. One of the strangest things was that there was what seemed to be cracker dust in every single kitchen cabinet and drawer. We joked that it might have been the remnants of crack. How does that happen?

Anyway, here are some pics from the first days of working on my kitchen. There have been many changes to these rooms since: new paint, new ceiling light, new stove. But you have to see where I started to be somewhat impressed with the transformation.

The kitchen

A view of my kitchen, as seen from the dining room.

The kitchen rug

This is one of the first things I bought for my house. I did it in the two months between offer accepted and closing.

There are many more photos. Read the rest of this entry »

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The snowman and the message

Here’s a story from what must be September or so. When does the football season begin?

It was opening night of the 2010 NFL season. The Vikings vs. The Saints. There is a lot of history behind why this game was going to be huge.

This video shows what was basically the end to the Vikings 2009 season. It was horrible. They coulda been, woulda been Superbowl champs.

So, the Vikings were meeting up with the Saints again, on a Monday night, no less. We were on the couch, game was on, window was open letting in the beautiful late summer air.

The neighborhood’s loudest motorcycle starts up. I get up to look outside. Nobody’s there, just the bike, rumbling.

It’s so loud it’s hard to hear the TV. An engine so terribly loud you have to close the window just so you can hear the TV… on the third floor!

This rumbling continues for at least 10 minutes. I think it was longer. I kept getting up to see if the owner was standing there yet. I kept watching.

Finally, there he was. It was the guy who lives here: One woman replaced by another + baby

I went stomping across my apartment. I was livid. I pulled out the first paper I could find. I wrote a scathing note about it being very fricking rude to start up the world’s loudest bike and just let it run when it’s warm outside.

He gets on his bike. Guess what he was warming up the bike to do? To drive it around to the back of the apartment building and park it in his garage! I flew to my front door.

I was ready to stick the snowman to his door.

I thought better of it, thankfully.

I burst into hysterical laughter. Can you imagine getting a scathing note on a cute snowman sticky?

Bringing tidings

Of course, the note above is not the note I wrote that night.

However, I remember that night for another reason. I was right in the middle of a great search. And this note was one of the last I wrote living in my apartment.

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Realizing the rules have changed

First, I need to set the scene. I’m wearing a cardigan with multi-colored stripes. So multi-colored that I will only name three: olive green, salmon and sky blue. And I’m wearing a long jean skirt with sandals.

It is raining outside, so I’m carrying an umbrella. It’s the umbrella I got free from Vogue when I signed up for a subscription. It is a pretty royal blue-red-cream plaid pattern. While quite chic, it does not match my outfit.

I feel I look pretty clownish. Not a big deal, but worth noting.

It is September 2nd. I realize I’ve forgotten to pay my rent. Luckily, I have until noon on the 2nd day of the month to get my rent check in. I leave work early for lunch.

In some careful maneuvering, I get out of my car, jean skirt, umbrella, sandals and all, and walk up to the rent drop-off. I see a sign that says, “Your rent is now late. Please add $40 to your check. Thanks!”

I know this isn’t true because it’s only about 11:40 a.m. I figure they put the sign out early, and head inside to state my case.

“The sign says my rent is late, but it’s not because I have until noon on the 2nd day of the month,” I say.

The girl behind the desk says, “What?”

“My rent isn’t late yet.”

“You have to pay it on the first,” she says.

“No, the sign on the wall says I have until noon on the second.”

“What sign?” says girl in the next room, but with a major glassless window-like opening.

“The sign on the wall says we have until noon on the second of the month. It’s the second, and it’s not noon,” I plead. Then I realize. It was probably a year ago since I saw that sign. The rules have changed.

“Per your lease, rent is due on the first of the month. It’s the same for everybody,” next room girl says.

I am just livid. I don’t have my lease with me at that moment. My rent check is already written out. My purse is in my car. It’s raining outside. My umbrella is perched on my shoulder, surely framing my face like a halo.

Here’s what’s going through my head, “If I swear at them right now, if I really go off, can they call the police? Could they get me for harrassment? What if I just don’t pay the $40? What if I refuse to pay? What would happen?”

I take my check, and slam it down on the desk. “I am so…” and muffle the rest, as I turn. (It was going to be ‘flipping peed off,’ for the curious.)

As I open the door, girl in the next room sings out, “Have a nice day!” Smiley face, smiley face.

That’s when my umbrella gets caught in the door. I keep walking forward in the rain, refusing to turn around, as my arm reaches back over my shoulder, my umbrella holding me back. I shake it free, in grand form.

In discussing with friends later, I told them I now realize how Steven Slater-like incidents happen.

They change the rules, and don’t put up a new sign. How is that okay?

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Oh, what a night

My neighbors on the second floor must’ve had quite a night.

They came home at about 1:00 a.m. this morning. There were about three of them. They spent a lot of time on their balcony, telling stories and laughing very loudly. They were obviously drunk. The F-bombs were flying freely. They woke me up several times over the course of the night. Yes, today was a work day. A Monday.

My plan was to drive along the front of the building this morning very slowly and honk my horn the entire way.

My plan was thwarted. I heard them on their balcony at 7:30 a.m. They sounded a little tired. But they were definitely still having a good time.

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