Category Archives: Personal

PTSD

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In April we put the Linda Vista house on the market. At that time, our real estate agent suggested we stage the house and pack up everything we felt we could live without for about a month or so. We put about 75% of our belongings in storage including winter clothes, kitchen wares, books, and miscellaneous things we were sure we could live without.

FLASH FORWARD 7 MONTHS….

Our house is sold and the new one is purchased and finally empty. We’re still at the rental house in Glendale because we haven’t started any of the repairs. The vendor selection process has been somewhat of a clusterfuck and we haven’t been able to compare apples to apples with any of their services. They’ve giving us bids that are all over the place and sadly, we may have to start again. Because the previous owners of our house took-for-freaking-ever to get out and we were traveling in the middle of November, here we are, not started, in limbo. Still.

Admittedly, I’ve been going crazy for months. I was over it around July. I think like most people I desire a level of comfort and stability. This whole moving process has reminded me that from 1989 to 1993 my family and I moved about 6 times. Yeah, I know. 6 times. Not to mention all the times I went back and forth between Mom and Dad’s house because one or the other was driving me up the wall. I’m not sure why we moved all those times. It was always something. By the time my Mom bought a condo, I was nearly graduated and ready to move out on my own. I did. I left Camarillo when I was 19 after staying with a friend for a year. When I got to Pasadena, I stayed with my boyfriend’s Mom for 3 months and then got into my own place. I stayed there for 10 years. I lived in the Allen Ave. apartment longer than I did in the house I grew up in. Next, I moved into a new apartment and stayed there for 3 years. AJB and I lived in the Linda Vista house for 3 years also. So you can see, I have a bit of PTSD over moving and not having an element of stability in my life. Maybe because I’ve never had it. I want it, crave it, need it. I desperately want a place to call my own, a place I know I’ll stay more than 10 years. I want a place I can paint and fix and love. I don’t want to move in a few years and I want to know I’m safe there. Is that so much to ask?

Alright, so I have it, I’m just not in it yet. The house needs so much work that it makes me want to puke when I find some new horrible broken thing. It also means that every job requires some other job. You remove the Swedish stove, you have to repair the roof. You take out the carpet, you have to refinish the floors. Some day, a long time from now, the house will be beautiful and while people already love it, they will love it even more. I’ll be home and I’ll love it. All my kitchen wares will be where I want them and I can relax. Won’t that be nice?

All the moves I’ve done in my life:

  • The big move from Los Angeles to Oxnard when I was a baby.
  • Trinity Place to Jackson Street
  • Jackson Street to B Street
  • B Street to Hobart Street
  • Hobart Street to Fulton Ave.
  • Fulton Ave to Creekside Circle
  • Creekside Circle to Lantana Avenue w/ Dad
  • Lantana back to Creekside Circle
  • Creekside Circle to Via Montoya
  • Via Montoya to Steve’s House
  • Steve’s House to Todd’s Mom’s Apartment
  • Todd’s Mom’s Apartment to Allen Avenue
  • Allen Avenue to Marengo Avenue.
  • Marengo Avenue to Linda Vista Avenue
  • Linda Vista Avenue to Rossmoyne Avenue
  • Rossmoyne Avenue to El Molino Avenue (pending)


    • Geez. Can you blame me for wanting to stay put?

    Thanks

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    So much happens in between posts that I find myself overwhelmed with what to talk about and then I don’t talk about anything. I guess what I’m really here to talk about today is yesterday.

    Thanksgiving is an interesting holiday. It isn’t (nor has it ever been) like the ones you see on television. For me, it tends to be a bit of a bummer because I never REALLY get a great meal and I miss my dad. The meal part? Being a vegetarian means I fill up on side-dishes and bread and a lot of times over the years people don’t realize that if you made the green beans in a chicken stock, I can’t eat it – so no green beans either. Truthfully, my family has gotten a bit kinder in this regard, but most years they still forget.

    The last 5 years or so I’ve been coming out to Illinois with AJB and spending it with his Mom and the kids. It’s been pretty fun, but the meal part still isn’t anything to write home about – I guess it’s up to me to create foods I can eat – I just never do. This year I made stuffing and while everyone seemed to like it, it wasn’t great. Meh. It was alright.

    Instead, I concentrate on the true meaning of the holiday. Treasuring the moments with the kids flipping out over some game, laughing, running around, making a mess. This year, the eldest JDB is off to college to the youngest siblings really miss him and are extra happy to have him around. Pretty soon they’ll all be gone and the holidays will be the only time we see them.

    And I miss my Dad. I can’t help but recall that it was over a Thanksgiving weekend that I realized he might have cancer. I would find out I was right only a month later. It was just a guess at the time, but I knew something was dreadfully wrong and I was right.

    I also miss my side of the family. I wish that there was some way we could all get together on Thanksgiving, but alas – everyone is in their own corner of the world and travel is hardly practical.

    I am however thankful for many things. Here’s this year’s list:

    1. My family. Every single member.
    2. My husband – He makes life better
    3. A wonderful mother-in-law who seems to like me a lot.
    4. Our new house – Even though it’s hardly move-in ready, it’s ours and we’ll be in it soon.
    5. My friends. I know some pretty cool people.
    6. Oatmeal, Matilda, and Eva. They make life better.
    7. Christy and Myra – They make life better.
    8. Music – Where would I be without it?
    9. Home, food, shelter, clothes, and the ability to keep buying them all.
    10. Everyone is healthy and alive.
    11. Left 4 Dead and the nightly games with my brothers – we play online and get to chat and kill zombies almost every night. It’s awesome.

    While I’m thankful for these things every day, it’s nice to put them down on paper and really take a look at how good my life is. I have a great life and I mustn’t forget that.

    Home

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    Yesterday was quiet conceivably the longest day ever. We visited our new house and made the master list of things to do, holes to fill, walls to put up, things to tear down. The house is still occupied by the previous owners. Why haven’t they been able to move? While it might be easy to say, call the cops or come down hard on them, it’s easier said than done. What you must understand is that while they’re taking their sweet time moving out, there are moving out. It’s just taking longer than anyone hoped. It’s taking longer than it should. Why? Turns out, not only are they oldish, they’re also completely disorganized and they are, like on the TV, hoarders. Somehow, they’ve managed to avoid becoming Grey Gardens, but they have, over their lifetime, accumulated so much stuff it’s staggering. And like hoarders, they are unable to part with even the most insignificant possessions because…well, nothing is insignificant. Everything is important, everything has meaning, everything will be used for something or other one day. Both the husband and the wife have a tendency to fly off the handle – not with us, but with our real estate agent. They are easily aggravated and everything seems to upset them. They are also the kind of people who only hear what they want and only do what they want. They signed a paper saying they’d be out of the house by the 2nd, they aren’t. They just can’t get it done. AJB and I had a window of opportunity – the first two weeks of November – to start the pre-move in repairs (paint, floors, clean, electricity, etc) and this is slowly slipping by; which means we really can’t start until AFTER Thanksgiving. So when the wife asked me when we thought we’d be out of the Glendale rental, I almost laughed. You see, the longer they take to move out, the longer we stay in Glendale. If you recall, they want to move into the Glendale rental as soon as we move out. We can’t move out until they move out. It’s all complicated and annoying. They don’t seem to get it. Or maybe they do. I can’t tell.

    I explained to the wife our predicament and hope she got it. I hope she got that not only are we annoyed, but we’re ready to be home. The husband, at this point, was covered heat to toe in dirt and looked like a boxer who’d just lost the most important fight of his life. Beaten and down, his wife laid into him exclaiming it was all this fault. I felt bad for him. Even when AJB reminded me how often he’d cussed and yelled at our real estate agent, I couldn’t help but see a man whose wife forced him to move – because she hates Altadena – and who had worked for 3 days straight to get this 70 years of possessions into trucks and into our garage. Yes, they’re using the garage. At this point, let them. Look, I know they should have started months ago. Why they waited until the last minute, I’ll never know. I get the whole hoarders thing and I understand the methodology and mindset better than most people know. I probably shouldn’t say how I know (it might hurt someone’s feelings) but I know, first hand that even the suggestion of throwing out something turns a seemingly rational person into a pile of melted goo – or the other side of the spectrum…a raging lunatic. I get it. I do, but if there’s a better way to go about this, someone share it. You can’t come down hard on hoarders. They’re like wild animals – it’s best not to agitate them, they’ll either fight back or run and hide.

    I figure, they’ll be out at some point. Since we’re missing our repairs window and can’t start until after the holidays, there’s no point in fretting about it. I’m actually starting to get excited and think about all the things we’re going to do. I reminded AJB that Rome wasn’t built in a day. It’s easy to let it all get to us and get us down, but the truth it, it’s happening. We’ll be in our new house soon.

    In other news, this morning around 4am, my 2 year old nephew auto dialed me. The phone rang and when I saw my brother’s name, I instantly thought something bad had happened. I answered and heard lots of shuffling around, figured I was butt-dialed. And then my nephew started talking. Wow! I started talking to him and asking him questions and he talked back, answering them in baby talk. It was great! I know all babies eventually figure out how to do stuff, but what really amazes me is when communication clicks on. He’s always had a toy phone, so he knows how it works, but it doesn’t talk back. I think he might have been a little shocked that the phone talked back. I don’t think he knew it was me and I know he didn’t call me on purpose, he was just messing with the buttons. The amazing thing was that we had a conversation. He talked, I talked. I asked him what he was doing, he told me. I asked him where Mommy and Daddy were and he told me. My brother got on the phone a few minutes later and apologized, but I was so giddy from talking to my little nephew, I didn’t mind. I love that kid. I love when babies don’t quiet know words, but just make funny noises. Kills me.

    Ah well. Life is complicated and frustrating. What else is new? At least today started off great.

    halloween n’ stuff

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    Meh. It’s Halloween time. It just doesn’t feel like it. I’ve been submerged in work for weeks, days, many many minutes. I’ve been sitting at my desk as if I’m permanently fused to it. I think I might be. If it’s any indication, I’ve just ordered cushy office chair arm rests. Well, the current ones are starting to tear. Cheap shit.

    It seems like just a few years ago – although it was probably longer ago than that – that I would walk outside, smell the Fall air, breathe in deep and feel this wondrous sense that Halloween had come. Autumn was here and the light was changing, the air was crisp. I don’t feel that anymore. I used to get excited about going to the Halloween store – now there’s a Halloween store on every corner. I’d stock up on housewares and skully towels, and whatever cool thing Target put out that year. This year, it seems like it’s all crap and it just keeps getting cheaper and cheaper. Target just phoned it in this year and every year I get angry at how cheap Halloween costumes are; how every year there’s some slutty version of something non-slutty. Slutty Elmo? Come on.

    This time last year I was 2 days away from getting married. I was frantic and tired and hadn’t written my vows yet. We were running around, getting shit done, family was arriving, and it was all kinds of madness. Two days later, I was married and it was the best day ever. The sheer exhaustion from the months leading up to the wedding set in just as we arrived in Paris.

    And here we are, one year in. I probably won’t get a chance to write anything retrospective on Sunday because I’ll be working. And so will AJB. Somehow, we’ve both got work that takes us away from one another on our one year anniversary. I’m shooting a wedding in Santa Ana and he’s delivering Halloween festivities to The White House. He might meet The President. I hope he does. I’m pretty bummed out about not being with him on our 1 year anniversary. Everyone says the first year is the hardest and boy were they right. It’s not easy getting into the married groove – now you share everything; even if we lived together for 3 years before getting married, somehow things are different. Good, but different. It also doesn’t help that we’ve gone through an enormous amount of stress selling and buying a house. I’d be lying if I said the stress hadn’t gotten to me on more than one occasion. AJB’s ability to stick with me during my crisis modes is a testament to his strength and determination. It also means he loves me a heckuvalot and all that makes me love him more. I’ll admit, I go through phases during years like this. Phases where I kick ass, take names, and get it all done, but then I implode. 1 year is indeed something to celebrate. Considering the year we’ve had, I feel pretty great that we’ve made it, we’re still cracking each other up, and comforting each other, even when he thinks I hate him. The truth is, he’s been there for me more than anyone in my life and I hope he knows how much I appreciate him.

    In a matter of a few days, the current tenants will be out of the new house and we can begin doing before-move-in repairs. I’ll be in my new house by the end of November. I think. Man, I can’t wait. It makes me want to puke all the stuff that need to be done, but we’ll get there. Stay focused, eye on the prize, etc. It’s gonna be great and even if it’s not, AJB and I will make each other laugh cause that’s what we do.

    Baby, I love you so much. You really are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Happy anniversary.

    Do Not Pass Go

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    Things have been crazy for years, decades, eons. I start it all counting when my Dad died almost 4 years ago. We moved into the Linda Vista house shortly after, two years in we got engaged, all the planning for that, got married, honeymoon, holidays, new year, decided to move again. In April of this year we started the staging and showing process for selling the Linda Vista house and we lived in turmoil with about 25% of our belongings. The house sold – finally – and now we’re in a temporary house in Glendale with 25% of our belongings. I haven’t been able to cook because most of my cookware is in storage. The new house closes escrow any day now.

    As for the new house, it’s far from Barbie’s dream house, but it’s got loads of potential and it’s up to us to turn potential into reality. Some of it will involve hiring capable professionals to do the heavy lifting, but a lot of it is our job. There’s quite a lot to do and it’s almost impossible to know where to start. What problems need to be fixed before we can move in? First off, we’re going to re-do the wood floors, but I’m afraid they’re so old, we may end up putting in all new hard wood. I’m thinking bamboo. We’ll paint the inside – I’m pretty sure it hasn’t been painted in 20 years. After that, several hundred other dire projects need to be discussed and implemented. It’s a little overwhelming, but I’ve promised myself that we’re going to hit the ground running. It sounds like a good idea, anyway. Needless to say, the house is a fixer, but it’s got good bones, it’s a great size, I get a real office, we have a little pool, I get a studio, AJB gets a bigger office, and the teens get plenty of places to hide out in. It’s gonna be great. I know it, we just have to start.

    It’s all coming up so quickly. The current owners are still there and have been trying to guilt us into moving out later rather than sooner. You see, they’re a bit older and have accumulated about 16 families worth of travel knick-knacks, furniture, art, tchotchkes, and things and doodads. They’re hoarders, but in a “ooh, that’s cool” kinda way. They have lots of neat things, they just have lots and lots of them. The basement reminds me of the ending of Citizen Cane. Needless to say, they’re having a hard time getting rid of stuff or moving it out – thus the request for more time. They’ve had 4 months to deal with it and an extended move out date put us moving in a week before Christmas. Not gonna happen. Sorry guys. I’ve been living this life with half my wardrobe, half my kitchen, half my life since April. I’m done. I’m ready to be home. Plus, the house needs so much work I’m ready to start.

    The current owners are indeed laying in some heavy guilt. They’ve somehow managed to make us feel as though we’re evicting them, despite actually selling us the house. Aside from that, there’s the uncomfortable meetings, phone calls, and messages though 3rd parties. I don’t know anyone that has THIS MUCH contact with the sellers of a house. I kind of just wanted to buy the house, meet them once, and then send them a thank you card with flowers. The other problem is they don’t actually have anywhere to go once they move out. When we sold Linda Vista, we were in a similar situation and were looking for an in-between rental, not having much luck with our space needs. Finally, we got this house in Glendale – it’s owned by the guy who bought Linda Vista. NOW…the current owners of our NEW house, want to move into THIS house when we move out and into their old house. Still with me?

    Us: Sold Linda Vista to the B’s, are renting Rossmoyne from the B’s, are buying El Molino from the A’s.
    The B’s: Bought Linda Vista and own Rossmoyne.
    The A’s: Sold us El Molino and want to rent Rossmoyne.

    Yeah, it actually does sound like a game of Monopoly. The only people truly making out here are the B’s. They bought Linda Vista for a steal and are getting their Glendale house rented consistently. We on the other hand, paid too much for the El Molino house – for a down economy. In an up economy, it’s worth about half a million more. The A’s were hesitant about selling their house and didn’t make as much as they could have if the economy were better. It’s all a lot to process. Should I sell Park Avenue or Indiana Avenue? I also have 2 railroads, but I’m in prison and need a Get Out of Jail Free Card if anyone wants to barter. The end result is we have a great house which, let’s face it, we got for a good price, I just wish it didn’t need so much work. In about 50 years she’ll look amazing. I’m just kidding. I think we can have her looking pretty damned amazing in just a couple of years. The floors and paint will do wonders and slowly but surely she’ll become Barbie’s dream home.

    I forget how much blogging makes me feel better.

    What me worry?

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    Over the past – I don’t know how many – months, I’ve been sitting in front of this blog wondering what I should and shouldn’t write about. A while back I vowed not to let the view points of others sway me; that is, I would write what I wanted to write about and not worry what people thought. I’m not writing about anything earth shaking these days. I’m not sure I ever did. The basic point of this blog was and always has been for me to vent. Now that I’m married and have step-kids, I find it easier to vent to my husband. After all, isn’t that what he’s for? Just kidding.

    In the beginning, this blog was my outlet because I knew my friends and family were tired of hearing it. As I’ve gotten a bit older and just a wee bit more level headed, I find that I’m more apt to accept things for what they are, worry about the things I have power over, and fret less about the things I don’t. Part of this has a great deal to do with my husband who is level headed, happy go lucky, and hardly ever worries about things. In many ways, he abides by my grandmother’s saying “things will get better and if they don’t, we’ll get used to it“. With him being so carefree, I have taken on some of that and find that I worry less and less about things.

    Worry is bad. I hate worry and this blog is all about worry. Looking back over the year’s entries, I see myself in a tizzy about things that are no longer important. I’m 35, my Dad is gone, my Mom is getting older, I have a nephew, my big sister and baby brother both live in different cities, I’m working hard trying to get my career off the ground…what are the important things here? The life I lead, the people I know, and the impact I leave behind.

    I often wonder how much point this blog has anymore. I post all my photos HERE and I vent to my husband (who doesn’t seem to mind, I think). So now what? Have I outgrown this blog? I never though I would. I’m not sure I have. I suppose the answer will come even if it’s currently staring me in the face.

    Catching Up

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    Around Summer last year my life became insanely crazy or crazy insane – whichever comes first. We had the wedding, which was amazing and beautiful and magical – ugh, that reminds me…I still haven’t gotten pictures up and I don’t even want to think about thank you cards. Yikes. After the wedding, we had an amazing, beautiful, and magical honeymoon in Paris – When I think about it, it’s like it happened to someone else. Did I actually have my honeymoon in Paris like people do in movies? Yes. Yes, I did. Almost the exact second we came home, we dove into the holidays and the New Year. It’s all a blur. By December, we’d decided to sell the house and here we are knee deep in open houses, showings, inspections, and organized chaos. And because we’re selling the house, I suppose we should buy a new one, so we’re looking. Somewhere in the middle of all that, I’m working and doing a whole lot better than I did last year. I’ve already got 8 weddings booked and some of them are even paid gigs.

    When I remind myself of all the things that are going on, it’s no wonder I’m tired all the time. The good news is I have my loving husband around, who despite any irrational girl behavior I might display, loves me and comforts me. He’s a pretty sweet guy and I am so lucky to have him in my life. He really is the only guy who could handle my craziness – he handles it so well, I should probably marry him…oh wait.

    Oh, did I mention the car crash? About 2 weeks ago, I was driving the kids to their mom’s house when all of a sudden….BAM! Crashed. The kids were fine, but I got a nice case of whiplash and slammed my chest into the steering wheel. The bags didn’t go off because we weren’t going fast enough. Regardless, the car is totaled. I’ve currently got a rental and am doing my research for a hybrid. What’s funny about the crash is that just a few days prior, I wrote a blog post about not wanting to drive so much, about how I was riding my bike more. Suddenly, no car. Makes you wonder. I’m not saying I did it on purpose, but it’s a strange coincidence. It’s great for the environment not having a car, but I still need one. I have to work and buy groceries. The good news is, our insurance company is paying me fair market value for the car and it’ll be a good down payment on a used Prius or something.

    As for the Prius, ok, look, I know douche bags drive them. Ok, so maybe they’re not douche bags, but they’re those hippies – the ones that replaced yuppies with their designer-eco-friendly clothes, making above average income, drinking 2% lattes, and bragging about their recycling bins, converting to veganism, doing Yoga, and taking all the good parking at the farmer’s market. I know, it sounds a lot like me. I just hope I’m cooler than that. Oh wait, I’ve got it! I shall call them Eco-Yuppies! I’m a genius. Remember, you heard it here first. Alright, so since I married AJB I’m kind of an eco-yuppie myself, but only by default and not really by choice. Part of that label comes from this house and this neighborhood. This whitey white neighborhood, where sure, everyone is nice, but they’re rich and they know it, it’s a bit too Stepford for me. If this is the Stepford Wives, I’m Joanna Eberhart – aw shit, she was a photographer too. Damn. Good thing I never answered that “Ladies Who Lunch” invitation. I take two steps and I’m in the golf course. I can’t wait to move. I grew up in a neighborhood with one tree and that fell over one day in an amazing crash. Then? No more trees. The kind of street where Dads egged their kids on in fights, where if you weren’t friends with the gang-bangers, you were asking for trouble. I hated it. I don’t fit in with high-society and I certainly don’t fit in with low-society. I’m looking for a happy medium.

    I kind of trailed off at the end there. That about catches us up.

    The Big Stress

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    AJB told me that moving is among one of the most stressful times in a person’s life. I’m inclined to believe him. Just a few short weeks ago, we made the final decision to sell our house. We did not take this decision lightly, but I don’t think anyone ever realizes how stressful these things are or how you’ll react to them.

    After two grueling weeks of packing (most of which was done by AJB’s assistant) we are officially on the market and had out first agent caravan today. While I remain confident that this is the right choice, it still adds a major element of hardship. We were told by our agent that we should pack as much as possible and clear out the house as best we could. We took this as gospel and cleared out about 80% of our belongings. While packing, it’s hard to know what you may or may not need access to. I asked myself what I could live without and crossed my fingers I was right. At the time, it seemed like I could do without a lot. Little things, like a toaster…we packed it because it takes up space and you can make toast in the oven. OK, so getting along without it hasn’t been horrible. In fact, oven toast is pretty good. I packed up most of my Winter clothes because Spring is here and it’s warming up…except, it keeps warming up and cooling off. And because everything we own that’s left has to be stashed during showings, I don’t know where anything is. We are literally living a bare bones existence, I have one pot holder and no casserole dishes. I did, however, take a stand and kept most of my clothes. Although, it wasn’t much of a stand since I made no formal declaration.

    Realizing that there are people in the world who don’t have electricity, let alone toasters, I’m reminded that as an American, I have many luxuries. The hard part isn’t so much living without, it’s that my normal life is disrupted. My day to day routine is fucked up and I can’t find the book I had to return to the library. Things we take for granted are now in new places or in storage. Our kitchen trashcan is in the basement. Our water dispenser is in the garage. It’s like living in Wonderland: Everything is nonsense. Nothing is what it is because everything is what it isn’t. It’s like living someone else’s life. This isn’t our furniture, these aren’t our smells, and strangers are walking through our home leaving lights on and windows open. I can’t cook, I can’t leave my socks on the floor, and aw crap…I packed up The Sims!

    Our cats are staying with my brother and I miss them. Knowing that they’re over there, miserable (because they hate change), wishing they could come home, not seeing their little curled up bodies at the foot of the bed…it’s been rough. Not to mention JCS isn’t loving his new guests. I guess this is how parents feel when their kids are off at Summer camp. Empty nest syndrome.

    I’m dealing. Some days better than most. With any luck, it will all be over soon and we can start shopping for a house. Of course, this brings up the all new technical difficulties of house hunting, packing up the rest of our stuff, waiting for the old house to clear, waiting for the new house to clear, unpacking, finding new and exciting places for all our things, getting used to new noises, a new neighborhood, and every other challenge that comes with moving out, moving in. Meanwhile, I’m still trying to work, build my new website which should have been done in January, trying to eat right when take-away is so much easier, not getting enough sleep, missing my cats, and living in a fishbowl.

    Soon it will all be a distant memory. We’ll be in the house we really love and wonder why we ever moved to Linda Vista Ave.

    Getting Specific

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    I have this trick that more recently, people call “The Secret”. It’s not really a secret and I don’t want to call it that because I never read the book. Also, it sounds dumb. This trick is simply asking for what you want and being as specific as possible. Seems that whenever I do this, commit my desires to paper or embedded thought, they come true. For example, at one point in my life I was frustrated with dating, hating all the idiots who’d slithered into my life and was ready for a change. As I was walking to work one day, I began thinking specifically about what I wanted out of a mate: Funny, smart, have common interests, doesn’t have to have the same taste in music as me, has a car, is responsible, already has a career, and adores me. If I’d known that two weeks later I would meet my husband AJB, who is all of those things, I might have asked for David Bowie. Just kidding babe. I love you :)

    I believe this system works. Call it whatever you want. Whenever I’m vague things don’t turn out the way I envisioned them. By the way, this also doesn’t seem to work for gifties like a new car radio or new lenses for my camera, although this does work when it’s close to my birthday or Christmas. Go figure.

    With this in mind, I’ve been trying to get specific about what I want in a new house. AJB and I get a do-over and are on the market. What do I want? When it came to this house, I asked for a house I didn’t hate – and I don’t hate this house. This time, I’m getting detailed.

    I want:

    A house with 3 bedrooms and two office spaces – office spaces can be located off the main house (on property), but will need to be insulated and be a proper working environment – not a garage; unless it’s a converted garage. A formal dining room and a kitchen large enough to cook a family meal in. Specifically, I want lots of counter space. I want a built-in breakfast nook. I’d prefer a kitchen with 1940′s to 1950′s style upgrades with newer equipment. I like white cabinets in the kitchen. The bedrooms don’t have to be large, but I want a big walk-in closet. I want bathrooms like the kind you see in Martha Stewart Magazine, you know, where everything looks like it was bought at Restoration Hardware. I want pretty tile and Craftsman fixtures in the bathroom, none of this jacked-up Middle-Eastern-friendly tile you see everyone using. I don’t want to have to re-do the bathrooms. I want hardwood floors throughout the house, but won’t complain if some parts have carpeting. The house must be a Craftsman built between 1901 and 1920 with lots of original details. Is a Batchelder tile fireplace too much to ask for? I want that too. We like Clinker Brick or River Rock as details on the front of the house. A want a nice sized backyard with enough room for fruit trees and a small Victory garden; a place we can hang out in during the Spring and Summer months. This house should be located on a quiet, safe, tree-lined street with trees that look like Bruce Ave. in Glendale. No junky neighbors, no busy streets; preferably in the Historic Highlands or Madison Heights area, but as long as the other conditions are met, the neighborhood is flexible. I want a nice little front yard with grass. I want a wrap around porch or a porch large enough that we can sit on and watch the world go by; maybe even a porch swing. I want this house to be up to date with electrical and plumbing and not require too much work to fix up. There shouldn’t be any structural problems, it should have central air and heating. Most importantly, this house should take my breath away and make me feel at home. It should be comfortable and it should feel like the house I was meant to live in.

    So far that’s it. If I come up with more, I’ll add it later. I may also start collecting photos. OK Universe…get to work.

    It was the best of times, it was the worst of times

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    If you’re like me, occasionally old sayings pop into your head and you go, “ain’t it the truth?” Well sir, today’s blog title is indeed the truth for these most certainly are the best and worst of times.

    I’ve been attempting to articulate what I’m feeling over the last two weeks and finding that run on sentences run away with themselves. I’ve found that the simplest way to put it really is: Best of times, worst of times. You see, after much discussion and only three years later, AJB and I have decided to move. If you’ve seen our magnificent home, you might be wondering why. Then again, if you’ve seen our magnificent home, you may already understand the reasons. This house is truly a sight to be seen, overlooking the grand Arroyo with majestic mountains in the distance, flora, fauna, ancient trees, artistic attention to detail, nooks, crannies, dreamy landscaping and just a stone’s throw from the Pasadena Bridge. All that is true, but while it comes with a great deal of benefits, it also comes with it’s fair share of burdens. It’s not just that it’s hard to maintain, it’s that every job doubles in cost due to the size and historic nature of the house. There is also the issue of living in one of Pasadena’s busiest and clusterfuckiest areas: The Rose Bowl.

    Alright, I admit, we should have thought about all that when we moved in (and we did), but we were fairly certain we could handle it. We also hoped that we’d get used to the noise and the traffic. I haven’t. Furthermore, I’m convinced this house is just too big for us. In a mere 5 years all of AJB’s kids will be off to college and we’ll have less need for space. I’m not a big house kind of person anyway. I do love so many things about this house, but we’ve never really claimed it as our own. In the end, the cons outweigh all the impressive attributes on mostly an emotional level. This has always been my house, it’s never been my home.

    Today the movers came. We’re staging the house and getting it all prettied up to sell. We’re fairly confident it will sell, but you just never know. These are uncertain times. Meanwhile, the search for a homier house and that desperate “what if we never find the house of our dreams” feeling is setting in. I worry about such things and fear that even though I know we’re doing the right thing, it may not pay off. I hope it will and I’m attempting to stay positive, but again…you just never know.

    Over the next couple of weeks the house will be cleared out, prepped, repaired, polished, and primped. Photographs will be taken, ads will be placed, and strangers will walk along my halls, peek into my closet, and poke around in my drawers. I can’t help but think about all the “what ifs” and ponder all the ideas and dreams we had for this house. All the changes we would make, all the gardens I would tend, the additions and subtractions – none of which ever really came to pass. Should I look upon this house as a learning experience? What lessons will I take to the new house?

    Regardless of how much I know we’re right, I can’t help but feel sad. I find that I’m constantly reminding myself that we’re doing the right thing, that something better is on the horizon. Burdens aside, I will miss this house because it symbolizes so many things and has been a source of good and bad feelings over the last three years. My emotions are in a turmoil. I suppose I won’t have clarification until we find a new house, until this house sells and we’re able to make a clean break. Only then will I have certain closure.