My OCD Hurts

   I must get myself to a therapist. I'm pretty sure I have a low grade form of OCD. I delayed going home after work because I knew the contractor would be there. Me and a strange man I dont' know and I'm not happy with alone in my house didn't sound appealing. Call me crazy...

  I got home around 6 pm or so and there was no truck in the driveway. Hmmm. That's odd because we expected him around 3:30. Here I was looking forward to seeing the tub I chose a month ago actually in my bathroom and not in my spare bedroom. Not only was he not there working, he never showed up at all. I hate-texted my husband to tell him "his boy" wasn't at our house. This lead promptly to a "I told you maybe" argument (which he did NOT tell me "maybe"). I sulked around. Called mother to whine and when she told me to relax, it'll get done I fired back with a picture of my spare bedroom in it's current state. I inherited my OCD from my mother so I knew she'd understand.

   She didn't really. She empathized but told me to get over it, more or less. "Say it all to me now, get it out of your system". When I call mom, that's usually what I need. On a lighter note, the cat fell in the toilet again. Yesterday morning as Aaron was getting ready for work and was literally peeing...she jumped on in. I'm female so I don't know all the mechanics of peeing while standing up but I'm assuming it can be done with one hand? Which was my question to him. "Why didn't you use the other hand to stop her?" He said "How would I do that?" I didn't think an anatomy lesson was necessary. I left it at "I don't know how you pee...but...". Miss Turk got another bath yesterday morning.

   I think Aaron felt mildly guilty for my stress level so he cleaned his closet out this weekend. I don't know where in that thought process he figured it would be a good idea to dump the items that didn't have a home on the floor of MY closet. I dug out a collapsible laundry basket (frankly I don't know where it came from or why we still have it...) and that ended up in my "fancy shoes" bin. It's exactly what it sounds like. I dumped that and several other items back in his closet. I came home to find Turk like this:

   Inside of the collapsed bin, hiding out from Apollo who desperately wanted to get into it. He just didn't fit. This lasted for quite some time and I just snapped a few shots because it was wildly entertaining.

   My last thought was regarding the DIY craze taking over America. I am a fan of DIY and if you have the time, energy and creativity...do it up. I do not consider myself an authenticated DIY-er because I sprayed a couple items silver. Don't misunderstand me. However, when I am driving down 84 on my way to work and I witness a DIY project on a VAN, I question how far we're taking this as a society. Do not ever spray paint components to your vehicle unless you want it to look like a Pirate Mobile.

   What is this eye sore? What am I looking at? I considered riving my car off the road just to get away from this "treasure chest", but I really wanted to see the sides as I knew if they were willing to spray the tire holder and the "trunk" they didn't stop there. There was no "safe way" for me to get a pic of the side. I would have swerved while traveling in the fast lane and/or the gun toting DIY-er would have shot me when he realized I was photographing his Liberace town car. Sure enough, the frames around the windows were gold, the car door handles and even the bottom section that you stand on to get into this monstrosity. It was really special. I would ask that you do not DIY your cars, in the future, my readers.This has been a public service announcement.

XO Autumn Van Weir

Lucky to be paying a contractor

   I will cut right to the chase as I know you are all wondering about the bathroom. I know I was. After this weekend Aaron guessed that I'd come home Sunday from my day trip to NY that much of the room would be done. It would at least have come together enough for me to gauge if it looked good or not. I rode home on the train excitedly after a sunny (and very hot and humid) tour of the financial district. Delightful lunch and delicious gelato, catching up with my friend Erica. Who could ask for more?

   I should also remind you all that my FAVORITE landmark in NY is Lady Liberty. The Statue of, that is. It was very bad visibility because of the heat over the water, but there she be...

   It was great to get to the city and it was even greater that I wasn't home for the reno project because I am not a major fan of our "contractor". Day one- an hour and 45 minutes late. Shows up with a clipboard, pokes around in the bathroom with Aaron for 15 minutes while I was working on the wedding page of blog. Minding my own business at the computer in the dining area and I suddenly hear what sounds like a saw or drill digging through the wall VERY close to me. I look around, I can very clearly hear Aaron and the guy upstairs talking about how there had been a hole in the bathtub etc. I look up and to my horror, this comes through the ceiling above the dining room table where I'm sitting.

  
   That is a screwdriver, through the ceiling. To my horror. It reminded me of a very specific scene from the episode of "Friends" where Joey building an entertainment unit for the living room and driving Chandler crazy with how long the project is taking and how awful it looks.

   Then they both came trotting down the stairs and were "shocked" that it lead to the dining room. I was less than pleased with this. And yes, to answer your question, the screw driver is most assuredly still in the ceiling now. Back to the story...I came home yesterday after my day exploring the streets of Manhattan and raced into the house with excitement. I couldn't wait to see my bathroom!! My pulse quickened as I turned the corner to our door...I burst through the door and saw more items in the foyer than I expected. OK, maybe they still got things done even though he was 45 minutes late Sunday. I don't know.

   Heading upstairs...to this...

  Hmm. So weird, because I was told the tub at the very least would be installed. But that large tub-shaped box looks like the tub. Clearly I've been getting fed lines. I flip on the bootleg light switch to see this.

   Nothing. They worked on the "plumbing and electric" which was "really messed up". They installed part of the ceiling. At this time, I make the decision that though I love antique homes, I cannot get involved with reno because I HATE IT.

   To the far end you'll see the recessed lighting that Aaron spilled the water on at Lowe's.  It works as does the fan Aaron installed himself. The contractor will be back tonight and tomorrow since next to nothing is done. I'm sure the electric takes time. However, I can't help but think that should have been expected given the quality of the rest of the "craftsmanship" in the 1980s built condo. Commence the hair pulling and sorrow drinking.

   Now I'll change topic (since I don't want to start sobbing at my desk so early in the work day) and that is Turk's obsession with our master bath. This cat is addicted to toilet. It's normal, of course. They are attracted to the sounds and the water and such. Apollo was when he was a wee kitten too. He fell in once when Aaron left the seat up (grrr) after that we made it a habit to close the lid. The toilet is the direct path to the sink. A wonderful place for kittens to sit, explore, sleep in, and dirty up with wet paw prints.

Look at that little toilet kitty!



  She really digs the toilet. She forever has her little face in the crack (no pun intended) to try and see in. Newsflash, cat: there is nothing in there you're going to want. I will now share with you the reason that when Turk fell into the toilet on Sunday morning after Aaron left the lid  up, his reaction was "Revenge!". Sounds harsh, I know. And it was...even after what happened in our bed Saturday night. (This is rated G, so don't gasp).

   As we're settling in for the night I realize little girl isn't in our room. That's odd for this time of night. I call for her...nothing. I hear Apollo but not Turk. I get back up and go down to the living room and there she is, just hanging out. I pick her up and she's purring away. She knows it's bed time. I plop her down in the bed (per the usual) and she is batting at our feet beneath the sheets. A moment or two passes and Aaron says "my back feels warm. And wet.." I put my hand on his lower back and it feels like sweat. It wasn't too hot so that didn't add up.

   I pull back our $100 wedding-gift-sheets and see spots everywhere. This is so weird...Turk is at the foot of the bed and there are little baby paw prints in moisture on the bed. What is going on here? Have you figured it out yet? The cat peed. On Aaron's back. And then tracked it all over the bed. I'd like to take this time to thank Bob's furniture for forcing us to buy the protective topper for our Bob-O-Pedic mattress that I didn't know had a rubber bottom thus stopping kitten waste from assaulting our new-ish mattress. Aaron was pretty upset. I was trying my damndest not to laugh. I picked her right up and brought her down to her litter and she went more. New rule: I'm not allowed to carry her up to bed now. "She'll find me when she's done her business" per Aaron.

   And that's why Aaron wasn't upset when she fell in the toilet. I can't help but wonder if he did it on purpose. It did backfire however. She couldn't have cared less. That's my girl :)

   If you enjoy my rantings, become a follower so I know I'm being read!! That's what will keep me going... and follow me on Twitter! @AutumnVanWeir or www.twitter.com/autumnvanweir.

Update: I forgot to add one little anecdote. I made fun of the waitress at lunch because she was wearing a see-thru-back shirt and I thought it was wildly innaprop. After taking a few steps out the door, I remembered what I was wearing.

That's me...in a see-thru-back shirt. Oops. What are the odds??

XO Autumn VanWeir