Monthly Archives: September 2005

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LizBear is Getting Lots of Love

Great news. I’m over in Spokane working for nine weeks, but was able to sign my papers on the house just before I left town. My friend Scott, my sister Maddy, and her co-worker Kevin all did the walkthrough on my place yesterday. If I had to pick three of the most nit-picky, OCD, thorough people in the world, it would be them. I am giddy with how they went through my place and found things I would never have seen. Great eyes and I owe them quite a bit for the amazing job.

The best part is that my realtor informed them I had officially closed and gave my keys to Scott so when I get home on the plane tonight I will be a brand new home owner!

This whole week knowing that I had done everything I could and had left my place in good hands, I slept so well. Better than I had in the past three months and I was more than happy to curl up with my Teddy Bear and fall asleep smiling.

Thank you everyone who helped me get through this. And an advance thank you to those who are helping me move half of my stuff in tomorrow morning before I fly back to Spokane for the rest of my stint as a Blue Shirt.

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Killing them with Mind Bullets

You may recall that I put an offer on a house some time around the beginning of June and you may be asking if I love my new place, did i find a roommate, congratulations, or any other questions and/or platitudes you would send my way.

You know what I would answer? I don’t have my fucking house yet.

Can I tell you how frustrated I am? Can I tell you that even though I’ve tried to keep a positive attitude and enjoy the fact I’m saving money every day this is postponed, I still can’t stop the screaming inside my head?

I realized today (actually it’s been a gradual acceptance) that I am more depressed over this whole house thing that I thought I was. I want so badly to be in my house, but all this waiting and not knowing is killing me. We were supposed to close on August 19th, which already felt like forever because it was over two months after the day we made the offer. But the builders are slow, irresponsible, finger pointing, blame shifting, incompetent asses who are dangling my unfinished house in my face like a two year old and then running off squealing with delight while I cry.

I have been eating non-stop, gained 14 pounds in 7 weeks, my body hurts, I have nightmares every night, and I’m fighting more with everyone because I’m so fucking sick of waiting. My room is a mess because I thought I’d be moving soon so I figured I’d just pack it up instead of clean it up (it’s been months). My health has deteriorated because I planned on all sorts of “taking care of me” stuff when I moved in to my own place. I bought a couch, where you pick out the fabric and they have to send away for it and it takes forever, but I timed the delivery perfectly with the second or maybe it was third predicted closing date and the couch is ready and I’m being charged every day I make them hold onto it while I wait for my motherfucking house.

I leave for Spokane for nine weeks on Sunday. I close on the house the following Friday (don’t even get me started on how messy this has gotten with me being out of town at this time). I arranged to come home the day after I close so I can move all my stuff out of my sister’s place into mine and then fly back to Spokane, leaving my house messy and unoccupied. It breaks my heart, but that’s my plan.

Then today I get a call that we may not close on the 23rd. “The paving may not be done. We just don’t know. Definitely by the end of the month, but can’t be sure.” Fuck my ass. This is absurd.

All I want to do is cry, which is getting in the way of the telekinetic killing power I’m trying to strike down upon them. Shoot me now. No more putting on my happy face. I’ve cracked.

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Truth, Dare, Double Dare, Promise or Repeat

Remember that game? I was thinking about it the other day. Picture this sweet little seven-year-old girl with a buzz-cut sitting around with a few other seven year olds, sometimes of both genders, when an evil little smirk crosses her lips and she says, “Let’s play Truth-Dare-DoubeDare-Promise-Or-Repeat.”

Truth be told, I was always hoping someone would dare me to kiss someone, but we were never that brave. I had to somehow work that into the blank cards when playing the UnGame. There was also the game “I Never” where someone says something scandalous or at least somewhat interesting that they have NEVER done and anyone who has done that has to raise their hand. This got to be more embarrassing as you got older, but also a bit revealing and damaging when people would use it to test out who was getting a jumpstart on the promiscuity. I can remember a few girls who were ostracized after this game. Never trust a middle schooler. I was not one these girls: neither the young harlot nor the one to shun said girl.

Anyhow, since we are all sick of the frightening baby picture that’s been sitting here on my blog, I’m taking a cue from Luke and going to offer up a challenge.

Let’s play Truth or Dare. Keep it clean, or at least clean enough my parents wouldn’t be horrified. And perhaps let’s avoid felonies.

You may be asking, which is it? Truth-Dare-DoubleDare-Promise-Or-Repeat. I say all. Bring it on. All actions, requests, or challenges will be executed or at least reported here.

Side note: I didn’t know the UnGame was a Christian game at the time I was playing it, but doesn’t that make it all the more sinful that I turned it into a kissing game?

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Seattle is full of warmth

A couple weekends ago I was talking to my new hairdresser, this older straight man from Montana who once worked as a miner, and we were raving about Seattle to each other.

“I love Seattle!”
“Oh me too.”
“But people say we are a hard city to get to know. That we don’t let people in.”
“But I think we’re really nice. Why would they say that?”
“Oh I don’t think we’re rude, just closed off. I’ll do my thing, you do your thing, and let’s just not make a big deal out of it.”

Then the next day I went kayaking with Dave and we got chatting with a couple in a canoe. I think we helped rescue them from an attack of the lilypads, but as a thank you they gifted us a couple drinks. Who says Seattle isn’t friendly? 🙂

Nice canoe people