these two, i swear to fuck
A great majority of our shit is at the house. There’s still a few things left at the flat, but we’re starting to unpack and settle in.
We have cable, we know what is going in what room, I even know what colours I’m painting most of the rooms.
Starting with that fucking Tinkerbell room.
The previous owners of this house replaced really nice hardwood floors with ceramic tile and then painted all the fucking walls with colours a shade or two too dark. As if that wasn’t enough, they painted one of the bedrooms purple and green and plastered a Tinkerbell border on the wall. I don’t know why, but Tinkerbell fills me with RAGE. I’ve taken little chunks of time here and there to begin the COMPLETE DESTRUCTION of that room and I feel so much better. We’re going to paint it a blue colour that is a little too vibrant, but I’m going to tone it down with some white furniture and I’m going to build out some window trim. (I don’t know what it is about Florida, but none of the windows have interior trim and they all have marble windowsills. *sigh* We’ll be changing the interior quite a bit.)
I already hired someone to come in and remove the largest two mirrors. I’ve also removed some of the ridiculous mirrored medicine cabinets that took up all the wall space in the master bath. No more fun house!
There’s been a white board on our fridge for years and without a doubt, someone with either draw a dick or scrawl the word “PENIS!” on it. I took a 5 minute break from unpacking to defile the clean white board, because reasons.
And now, it’s a home.
i can’t find the street :: look for the one that looks like a penis
So. We have done the impossible.
We have found a fucking house!
Praise the Lord and send ten dollars as my father used to say.
We had such lofty ideas when we started this, so many things we didn’t want and didn’t want to budge on… and all of those things went by the wayside.
I present to you The House on Tallywhacker Terrace.
I wish that were the street’s real name, but it’s not. It did however get christened “Penis Street” when I couldn’t find it on Google Maps and the hubby told me to look for the street that looked like a penis. It wasn’t until I got bored at the MINI dealership on Saturday, that we happened upon Tallywhacker Terrace. The perfect combination of real address and the subtle dick joke. (We’re twelve years old, after all.)
It’s in a gated community with an HOA. In a sub-development called Lake Pointe. POINTE. WITH A FUCKING E. Because, I don’t know, we’re all fancy or shit.
But, there is one nice thing about Lake Pointe - the house is on a lake (Surprise!). 80’ of waterfront, motherfuckers! Granted, it’s not my lakeside cabin in the woods of Maine, but it’s waterfront and we don’t have to drag the kayaks all over creation to get onto the water.
We’re going to close on the house by the end of the month and then a few days later, we’re going back to Universal.
I’m going to miss winter, but I think I could get used to this sort of life…
even if it’s weird to be at the beach in November. Wearing a t-shirt and shorts.
omg, i think i will always love drarry headcanons like this
I called my boss a dick at work once. Twice. Um… maybe three times? I meant it lovingly (kinda) and he tells the story to EVERYONE.
Including my husband’s boss. (Who was amused that I found my tribe because it means the hubby won’t be leaving him anytime soon.)
I’ve been thinking a lot about the decisions I made to take this job because I’m working with someone who is an entire generation younger and took this job specifically because it was the only company that would hire him. He is fresh out of college and moved from NJ to take a chance on this job. He still lived at home and is now living with a family friend.
I had to sell my house, move my husband and leave what few friends I’d been able to make/reconnect with. I left coworkers behind who needed to have someone to vent to and I left behind a huge piece of my past. I’ll never be able to go to York, ME when I need to be near my father. I’ll never be able to go to Connecticut to yell at my mother’s grave… it’s like when I moved to Ohio for a job in the same industry, but…
It’s much easier this time. I don’t have the same regrets. I’ll miss the things I left behind, LIKE WINTER, but I get to spend 41 nights in my happiest of happy places and I can’t ask for much more. And that’s not even taking into consideration the limitless trips we can take to my other happy place. Going to Universal Orlando for Halloween Horror Nights with our CFO was definitely an eye-opening experience. Being able to go back to see Hogwarts lit up for Christmas and being able to go to the Celebration of Harry Potter without having to worry about flights and extended periods of time off of work.
What’s not making things much easier this time, is finding a fucking house.
I think we lucked out when we built our last house. It had everything we wanted in a package we could afford. Home hunting in South Florida isn’t nearly as easy. It’s a choice between dirt roads and land or zero lot lines and little yards. Don’t even get me started on the fucking HOAs and gated communities that are everywhere.
So far, we’re on house #3. We actually placed an offer on a house that needed a lot of work. We were willing to go full price rather than get into a bidding war, because we thought our issues with the house were cosmetic. It was determined some things were structural, so we walked. The second house we were thinking about writing an offer on had an HOA that would only allow pets 10 lbs and under. THAT IS NOT A PET.
House 3 is also in an HOA which prides itself on being relaxed. (So, our biggest issues would be paint colours and being able to do exterior things like replacing windows or installing a fence.) We drove through the neighbourhood again today and realised that, comparatively, this house is definitely a steal at its current price because it needs a lot of work. We’re willing to do the work, but I want to go back and get a second look at what needs to be done ASAP and what we can do over time before we make an offer.
It feels weird to be setting down roots here. Not that I think I’m leaving my job anytime soon, but I remember how hopeless I felt when I lived in Ohio. How terrible I felt when I bought that first house. I didn’t want to put roots down there, but I didn’t feel I had a choice.
I have a choice here - and I’m happy to stay. Even if it means I’ll never get to drive through another Nor’Easter again and have to deal with hurricanes instead.
with john barrowman :: boston comiccon :: august 2017
Oh, John Barrowman, you are a Queen amongst boys.
The hubby and I went to Boston last weekend to attend ComicCon.
We had purchased the tickets when we were still New Hampshire residents and decided that they shouldn’t go to waste.
It was one of the best weekends I’ve had in a long time—it was awesome to be with my people.
I got to pop my husband’s Rocky Horror cherry, I got to hear Bill West do his Ren and Stimpy voices, drool over Ian Somerhalder, fangirl over Eleven and Amy Pond (Matt Smith and Karen Gillan) and spend not-nearly-enough time with Mr. Barrowman.
The weekend was too short but completely perfect…
...and I was totally excited to go back to work on Monday.
I think I’m winning at this life thing lately.
dumbledore and snape :: harry potter studio tour :: england, may 2017
So - we moved to South Florida. Where I don’t know anyone outside of my coworkers…
Cue the Ohana writing group on Facebook. Ohana always comes to the rescue. And so I met K.
And K invited me to go to a Not-At-ComicCon thing in Lauderhill.
And we cosplayed.
Pleased to meet you, I’m Katniss Everdeen. You can call me The Mockingjay.
No seriously. I cosplayed as Katniss. I had a bow and arrow and everything.
And it was fucking FREEING.
No, dude. You have no idea.
Here I am, in a place I’m already uncomfortable in, waiting to meet a girl I only know from Facebook… and I’m doing it in fucking costume.
It was the best experience ever.
K and I are going to go back to that place next time they have a thing.
I will be in full cosplay.
Cuz I’m the motherfucking Mockingjay, bitch.
So, now that that’s out of the way, there’s so much I want to say about the Harry Potter Studio Tour, but I don’t have the words.
I literally don’t have the words. Not in English. Not in Ukrainian. Not in Polish. And definitely not in Spanish.
Yeah. Spanish. Because South Florida.
I don’t plan on ever leaving my current employer, but I figure as a now-Floridian surrounded by Spanish-speaking neighbours and co-workers, that it might be a good language to learn. At any rate, it will look good on my resume and I can learn from all the mistakes I made studying Ukrainian.
But I digress.
So, I accidentally came out at work. My co-worker asked me if I liked Harry Potter when I was talking about our plans for London, and it slipped: Yeah. I totally love Harry Potter, but I’m a book canon nerd so I’m knitting myself things in the Ravenclaw colours as they are described on Pottermore and in the books. And, oh, by the way, I write Harry Potter fan fiction.
AND THEN, when I got back from NCC with K, I told that same worker that I cosplayed as Katniss Everdeen.
Thankfully, she told me that she thought I was cool because I embrace my inner nerd and have fun with her.
My inner nerd is kind of cool.
But yeah. Hi. I’m 42 years old, write slashfic about Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, and dress up as a 16 year old girl.
When I’m not knitting Harry Potter costume parts, that is.
I am damn proud of those stats…