ocg's Diaryland Diary
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Moving and Consumption
What a weekend! First, the move update: four days and counting.
The landlord is 'fixing' the house right now. When you have people that you evict because there is four feet of garbage EVERYWHERE YOU LOOK, it can take a while to get a place habitable again...
Well, we were promised an October 15 move in, and I snuck by the house on the way home from work. Not done. Not even close. Where are the kitchen counters???, I shouted to myself. Why aren't the floors varnished?
So, I came home and had a mini breakdown. My Sweet Baboo, of course, called them up tout suite and began grilling them to confirm the move in date. All systems go- except for the garage, which won't quite be done. Boo. I want my studio! At any rate, I calmed down, and realized that there are only a couple more things to pack. YAY, house!
Friday night we watched Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind. I know I am the eleventy-millionth person to say this, I'm sure, but what a great movie. Really, it's the first movie in a long time that I finished and didn't want the two hours of my life, as well as my money, back [à la: Shaun of the Dead. Wow. Bad.].
Then there was a thrilling Saturday spent in the craft room/ office [aka, the pit of despair], packing. Done! [insert Monster House echoing sound byte] We treated ourselves to a nice Italian dinner, where I found that, as much as I try, I just don't like clams and pasta together. The Chianti and I, however, got along famously.
We went to the dive down the street and proceeded to meet ALL the people that I would avoid in a sober state that were there. I, apparently, have a sign on my forehead that reads: "If your IQ is under 100, and you're drunk, talk to me". I'll have to see about getting that removed.
Then Sunday, we went on what I have dubbed, "The-guilt-ridden-but-totally-justifiable-shopping-spree-of-love". I just like the mix of consumerism and hippy-ness in that name. See, Saturday night, we'd gotten into a... discussion. Our television is circa 1992, and is the only thing of worth, other than a keen sense of regret/ anger/ bitterness towards slacker-skateboarders-in-lame-t-shirts, that I have remaining from the Bitch (or, the abusa-boyfriend, if you will).
The television has sat on a wooden storage rack that has served as the 'entertainment center' for a couple of years now. I let Baboo know, in no uncertain terms, that this wooden-racky-thing was not going to be located in the living room of our new abode.
Yes, it is. No, it's not. Yes, it is. No, it's not.
(We regress a little when we're a little tipsy.)
So, I told him I'd have something else by the end of the week. Oh, and speaking of 'something else', how you like me now?!?
He proceeds to let me know that if we're going to be living with a piece of furniture, it needs to be... get this... ‘a joint decision’. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, silly Baboo! Where do you get these ideas?
Which means, he basically volunteered to go shopping. All day Sunday. At one point in one of the 37 stores we visited that day, still a little 'dazed', we both decided to use the restrooms. We were in, I kid you not, the biggest Fred Meyer ever made- or at least the hallway to the bathroom was the longest I'd ever been down. After the eighth door with, "THIS IS NOT AN EXIT" posted on it, I commented, "Wow, if I'd known the trip was going to be this long, I'd have hired a sherpa!" I thought it was witty, given my state...
And we shopped all day! I win! Right? errr....
But you see, my pretties, I am not a mean oregoncoastgirl! Oh no! I reward my bebe! Because, as we looked at the furniture, I also stuck a kernel into his head about maybe, just maybe, getting a new television? Brilliant, no?
To poke it in a little further, I added something along the lines of, "You know, Baboo, the TV we have is from the Bitch. Yeah, I'd really like to just be done with it, and have it out of my life, you know, so it doesn't remind me of him?"
(What I think the Baboo doesn't realize, however is that the only reminder I have associated with the TV and the Bitch is the time he tried to come back and get it and I said, "What about your cat? Don't you want your cat?" And when he said no, I said, "Well, look, Bitch, the TV and I have grown attached, so I think I'm going to keep it around. We like each other. And it doesn't hit me.")
So the Baboo and I came home with not only the armoire I've wanted after all this time, but a bookshelf, and a brand-spanking-new 27" flat screen tele. [And, no, we'll never own one bigger, and no, it's not HDTV, and it's because I say so!]
Of course, the Baboo was freaking out, because ALL THIS MONEY, what are we DOING spending ALL THIS MONEY? After I gently pointed out to him that I was felling like he was RUINING IT!!!, he calmed down. And when he plugged Little Tiger in [yes, I named the TV in the parking lot of the audio-video store], he was definitely SOLD. No more shadows dancing across the screen, making you think you are waaay more inebriated than you really are, no more choppy 'I'm in stereo'/ 'No, I'm not'/ left speaker working/ both speakers working/ no speakers working/ left/ right/ left sound.
And then he went to work and found out that one of his coworkers has purchased a new CAR this weekend, and he’s totally ok now.
So, probably no more updates until we’re moved in. Wish us luck!
That is all.
PS: Rachel, we’re in Bend the weekend of the 23rd- you have to pick the ONE weekend we’re going out of town!!! We’ve a 90th birthday to attend… I’ll call you later this week!
8:50 p.m. - 2004-10-11
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