the paper doll

Bedroom Makeover

I want this color on  my bedroom walls NOW! 

 

Dear Internet,

It's been one hell of a week (see the mind fuck that is financial aid for grad school). 

So, I'm giving you the first of my many, "I can totally do that myself projects." 

I've been lusting after/over a Tripod Lamp for ages (yeah just click on that link and see why I was lusting not purchasing).  Who the hell pays 275 dollars for a lamp, Internet?  A LAMP!!!  Seriously. I do not understand the economic crisis we're in if people pay 275 dollars for lamps.

I searched Target and Wal-Mart for a knock off version but even theirs were around 100 bucks.  FOR A LAMP.

So I got to thinking.  A tripod lamp is just that.  A tripod.  A quick eBay search and viola a vintage tripod for $13.51.  Now all I needed was a lamp kit (around 9 bucks from Lowe's) and a lamp shade (19.99 at Target).

For around 42.50 I had a tripod lamp.

Now I know the cord is mighty ugly but I'm thinking if I spray paint that sucker it won't be as  noticeable.  And yes the lamp shade is a little on the smallish side.  But it has those nifty designs that glow at nite.  AND IT WAS ONLY 42.50!

When A came home she said it was stunning and couldn't believe I made it.

So take that high priced lamp. 

Overall, this is a super simple project and a great way to add impact to a room. 

Try it.

XO,

The Paper Doll

Ps-In case you didn't know mine's on the right.  Fancy smancy one on the left.

Desire

Hey Internet,

If you look over there to the left you'll see I posted some pictures of my living room as it is.  Through the magic of Photoshop you can see what I want my living room to look like below.

Whataya think?

XO,

The Paper Doll

 

Over the Counter (and Under)

Dear Internet,

Where to begin?

I had the crud most of last week.  You know those god awful commercials with the animated mucous people?  Yeah they took over my body and invaded my sinuses.  And made me collect my spittle in a cup for inspection.  Turns out other people aren't really interested in what you hack up.

In fact it's sort of nauseatingly gross to them.

I just thought it sort of a feat.  Who know my body could produce a substance of such color and slime.  I was proud of what my sinus cavity created.  The Musician on the other hand not so much.  I believe gag would more aptly describe his feelings about the matter.

So while I should have been gorging on eggs and chocolate I was huffing Sudafed and praying to the gods for forgiveness because clearly I had done something to anger them the pain in my throat, head, and nose was so bad.

Today I feel better.  Well better in body but not spirit.

See, when I tore out of work in a fever induced stupor on Wednesday I left my anti-depressants.  I spent most of Thursday knocked out.  So by the time I realized my error on Friday the building was on lock down for the Easter holiday.

I went 4 days without my meds and I could feel the difference.  Well not until the Musician hurtfully asked, Are you off your meds?

Aside from the dickery of the comment he was right.  I WAS off my meds.  I was a crying.  Short tempered mess.  He didn't handle it well.  I didn't handle it well.  It was perhaps one of the worst weeks of our coupledom.

I know there was a lot more to it than just not having the drugs in my system.  I was sick.  Easter is especially hard for me.  It was one of my mom's favorite holidays.  I bored.  Oh god was I bored.  And the University has completely screwed up my financial aid.

So I had a lot going on.

But it makes me worry about the future when I do go off my antidepressants.

It also makes me worry about the Musician and me.

I need someone who can handle me.  Meds or not.  And we barely squeaked by this week.

I did, however, make a decision about the couch.  I'm going with the white.  And the corner version. 

Once I got tired of Oprah and felt a little better I measured out my space and marked where the loveseat and couch combination would go.  And then I marked the corner couch dimensions. 

Results were overwhelmingly in favor of the corner version.  It'd just be too much furniture if I got the couch and the love seat.  And it would waste a lot of space.

So I'm putting in an order for the white corner Ektorp because ofcourse it isn't available in my local store so I'll be paying the 200 dollar shipping and handling fee.  Yay!

I also have a lot of house projects and things to up date you on.  Turns out when you're high on Sudaded you can get a lot of stuff done.

Pictures will be forth coming.

XO,

The Paper Doll

Calling All People with Opinions

So Internet,

The most exciting thing that's happened is I bought deodorant.  Sixteen dollar deodorant.  But damn it I got three free samples!

Oh there will be more posts about said deodorant in the future, Internet, I can promise you that.  It was sixteen dollars I've gotta get my money's worth.

And now I need you to help me with something.  I need a new couch.  I've been thinking about the Ikea Extorp because you know I'm a masochist and enjoy screaming at the Musician and trying to interpret picture directions.

The only this is...the color selection is umm lacking.  I love the white and think it would look great in my chocolate brown living room.  But I have a dog and a very messy best friend roommate.  How practical is a glaringly white couch?  Will I be afraid to sit on it.  To eat.  Drink.  Sleep. Least I mar the thing.  And ooh I just thought about red wine. 

But then I heard white's the best because you can just toss it in the wash with some oxyclean (or a rip off version because I refuse to support that man who screams at you about superior whitening power).

So white or not?

And if I don't go with the white what other color?  I'm not real smitten with any of the others.  And I know there's always Bemz.  I already ordered some samples from them.  But it feels kinda stupid to buy a couch only to have to spend more money to recover the thing.

Also, do I go with a sofa and a love seat or the corner version?

I've never bought furniture in all my 26 years.  I operate on the hand-me-down system.  So maybe I'm putting too much thought into this.

I mean it's only a damn couch FROM IKEA!  It's not like an investment piece.

But still I need help.

Help?

The sooner we all solve this problem the sooner I can talk about things other than my house.  Like how I have a huge girl crush on this girl. 

-The Paper Doll believes you are the answer

Living Room Layout

Living Room Mock Up Take Two

Living Room Mock Up

Dining Room Chairs Idea Board

Off the Deep End

 

Hey Internet,

You like my mad photoshop skillz don't you?  Yeah ok I suck.  But hey you have to give me some credit as the original photo had a dinning room table and chairs right smack where that beautiful cut, pasted, and cloned chaise lounge sits (it's the one from my bedroom before that's now in my living room but not for long!).

There's a small bookcase that resides with the chaise lounge that will get a coat of paint.  That china hutch will become art supply storage and the knobs will get switched out.  Long curtains that pool on the floor will be made from Anna Maria Horner's Good Folks Sun fabric and a new toss pillow will be bought.

The rug is just dreaming as it's from Anthropologie and costs a small fortune.  I'm thinking I can get a cheap one and paint a repeating design on it similar to this one.

The walls you can't see will house a desk, some wall shelves, and maybe a new bookcase from Ikea.

I would make a mock of all that except I don't want to make you jealous of my skillz have a photo to use.

As you can see I've gone a bit crazy.  Who spends their afternoon doing such things?

Gah.

-The Paper Doll wants you to forgive her

Grand Plan

Good Lord Internet all I can think about is getting my house in order.  I'm not even pregnant and nesting consumes all my free time.

In order to get some of my brain back I need to tell you what I have planned.  I'll probably even post some pictures and do some photoshop mock ups because I have gone that crazy.

So, if I had all the money in the world I'd completely redo my kitchen.  I'd knock down the walls between the studio and the kitchen and move the cabinets and sink and such over to what is now the studio.  Then the free kitchen space would become the dinning room.  And the dinning room would become a little reading nook office space because the studio would move to the great building I have in my backyard.  This makes no sense to you does it Internet?  You have no idea how my house is laid out so you really can't picture this can you?  I'll get you a picture so you can see how genius my idea is.

Of course I don't have all the money in the world so I'm going to do a version of this until I win the lottery and can afford to tear things up and rebuild.  For now I'm going to move the dinning room to the studio and make the dinning room a little reading nook office space studio.

Part of the impetus for this was the lunch party I had on Sunday.  My current dinning room is just too freaking small.  It barely has room for a four top round table and my family is way bigger than four.  And part of my 100 things is to host a holiday at my house and I need a bigger space for that.  Plus I want a big table I can spread all my grad stuff out on to study and a quiet little nook I can read in.

This means I'll need new curtains and to paint some furniture because I can't just move the stuff that would be way too easy of course. 

The first step is to clean the studio because it currently looks like this...

 

And yes I know that's a question mark up there in the photo.  The font had no apostrophe and I wanted to knowledge punctuation went there thank you very much.  So, let's all pretend ummkay?

PS-I also realize these are crappy pictures and I must speak to The Musician about this ASAP.

Kitchen Curtains Mock Up

Here's a rough photoshop mock up of what I'm going to use that fabric I ordered yesterday for....

PS-The Musician took this photo and lots more of the house this weekend and they all turned out sort of blurry.  Not sure what's up with that.  Eventually, I want to replace those horrible cabinets and countertops as well as finish the hardwood floors.  There was awful linoleum that I ripped up.  Now I just need to sand and stain them to match the rest of the house.  But that's a project I can't quite muster up the courage to undertake. 

What I Want Now: Kitchen

The Great Pantry Reveal of 2009

Dear Internet,

I never had food in my house.  Seriously.  Never. 

The only storage I had for what little food I did have was in the recesses of a dark lower cabinet.  One would have to sit on the floor or crouch on their knees only to discover there was nothing edible save for an old box of macaroni and cheese.

It did not make for good eating habits.  And it wasted gas as I found myself driving to the grocery store daily to pick up a handful of items most people would normally have laying around their pantries.

I'm not blaming this dank cabinet for my 50 pound weight gain but it did contribute to my ballooning. 

Now that the Musician has installed a beautiful pantry for me I've had quite the revelation.  I have a grocery store in my house.  That's right Internet.  A GROCERY STORE IN MY HOUSE!

When I come home I no longer have to make a grocery list and run out to the store.  I just walk over to my pantry select what I want and get dinner cooking.

IT'S AMAZING!!!  THERE'S FOOD AND I CAN SEE IT AND IT'S RIGHT IN MY HOUSE!!! 

I know this seems like a small thing.  Millions of people across the world have a pantry.  But really it's more than that.  Building this pantry is a tangent symbol of the changes I'm making within.  The cleaning, organizing, and paring down.

The handle I'm getting over my eating habits and how I think about food.  It's easier to make good choices when they're right there in front of me in the pantry. 

I no longer have an excuse to order take out.  Or pick up something unhealthy on one of my millions of trips to the grocery store.

I'm eliminating temptation Internet and it feels good.

Plus I'm streamlining my life for when I start grad school.  I need everything to be as easy and accessible as possible.  I need to know when I get home at 10:30 there's healthy food in the house to eat and that I won't have to get down on my knees with a flashlight to find it.

It's the best house project I've done to date because not only does it up my property value but it makes me feel good.

And without further ado here's the new, wonderful, life altering, waist whittling, pantry.... 

Ps-Can you find the vegetarian HAGIS?

New Couch?

So Internet,

Some of you are going to recoil in horror I realize that.  But I'm loving this line of furniture from Squint.  What I don't love is the price tag (and that's in pounds!).  So I'm wondering how hard it would be to do this myself.  I have an old couch that needs recovering.  I have lots of fabrics.  Can I do this?  Whataya think?

MC Hammock

So Internet,

I've done one of my 26 things. 

We put up a hammock in my backyard and it is a glorious thing.  Ever since it went into the ground and the cement set I've spent as much time in it as I can.  It's perfect for reading, napping, writing, making out, drinking wine...

It makes me happy and keeps me from stuffing my face out of boredom.

-The Paper Doll loves this time of year 

Studio Closet Before

Step One

Dear Internet,

So I tried that whole create versus consume and boy does it work.  I have this shelf in my kitchen.  A messy collect all drive me crazy shelf.  So last Thursday I drove myself to Lowe's, bought a spice rack that goes on the back of your cabinet door, and got rid of the messy collect all drive me crazy shelf.  Now all my spices are neatly tucked away where no one can see them.  And my left eye no longer twitches when I walk into the kitchen.

This led to me cleaning out my studio closet.  A watch out don't open that or else there will be a landslide of a mess closet.  My studio is right next to the kitchen and since the closet was more throw things in there and not deal with them rather than functional I had the brilliant idea of turning it into a pantry for my kitchen which doesn't have one.

It took me all evening to go through the crap.  Then I measured, made a sketch of what I had in mind, and took myself back to Lowe's.

I haven't hung the shelves I bought yet because I'm waiting for the wallpaper I ordered to arrive.  Because what's a pantry without fun wallpaper on the inside?

Fun Wallpaper...

During the whole process all I had to eat was a cup of yogurt.  I never got hungry.  Never opened the fridge.  Never picked at anything.  It simply wasn't an issue.

I filled my time with creating not stuffing my face.

Project for tonite: cleaning out the bathroom closet.  And trying out those space bags I bought for this purpose last year.

-The Paper Doll thinks this is the best diet ever

Queen of DeNile*

Internet,

Here's a list of things I've been avoiding:

• Laundry
• The laundry room
• The dirty clothes hamper
• The crap in my car including the dirty clothes
• The dishes
• The trash
• The target bag looped over the kitchen cabinet knob that acts as a second trash can
• The target bag looped over the kitchen cabinet knob that acts as a third trash can
• The rotting pumpkin on my front porch
• The other rotting pumpkin on my front porch
• Dust
• Dog hair
• Living like anything other than a slob

So Internet when I've resorted to wearing my underwear inside out because I really don't have a clean pair.  Not even that old pair.  Not even that old pair at the back that's for when I'm on my period and I don't have another clean pair.  When I don't even have that pair.  I know I'm avoiding something.

Something bigger than laundry and dirty dishes and comet sized balls of dog hair.

I'm avoiding dealing with something.  Favoring to watch TV, drink wine, and eat a whole plate of spinach dip for dinner (followed by a carton of ice cream) instead.

God if I were just a more rational woman maybe I wouldn't be 30 pounds over weight.

Seriously?  Who eats this stuff then instead of throwing away the waste leaves it to rot in a bowl or ooze out of a Target bag looped over the freaking silverware drawer.

I need help. 

Help and a maid.

I also need to quite wigging the fuck out about what I'm doing with my life.

I also need to get over myself and clean before DHEC declares my house a biohazard.

I also need to exercise and stop eating ice cream.

And then I see the huge list of things I need to be doing.  Should be doing instead of watching Gilmore Girls all day and I reach for another carton of ice cream.  Bake another pizza.  And hang another Target bag over the cabinet door.

It's just easier-being lazy.

Because if I actually did all those things what would be on my list then?

Deal with life.

Make decisions.

Study for LSAT.

Admit you really miss your mom.

I'd much rather it read-Pass the chips and turn on House.

Denial is a powerful thing. 

If only it could mask the odor coming from my kitchen.

(sigh)

-The Paper Doll is suffering from a little depression she just doesn't want to admit it

*I have a coworker who reads trashy girl novels...this was seriously the title of a book.  A book someone was reading.  Reading because they wanted to no less.  

there's a sty in my house

dear internet,

it was because of the lesbian post wasn't it?  damn spambots have taken over my comments.  it's not enough to be bothersome yet but their appearance does concern me.

what also concerns me is last nite little miss stella jane attempted to bury her bone with the dust on my floor.

she pawed her little heart out pushing the debris of my unclean floors into a neat pile in the corner.  luckily it wasn't enough to fully conceal her bone.  otherwise, i might actually have to sweep.

there's a reason they call me trailer foot.

also, there's a mountain of trash stacked up on all 3 feet of my kitchen counters because the trash can is full and heaven forbid we actually take the trash out.

several dishes have amassed on the floor because around here the dish washer is stella jane.  she does do a fine job of licking things clean.

clothes and shoes litter the hall so dashing out the front door for work becomes a study in how to avoid land mines.

when you get out of the shower dog hair sticks to your wet feet and my closet is empty because why hang things up when you can just toss them on the floor.

i still have boxes that i haven't unpacked and closets that if opened everything comes rushing out.

pretty soon i'm sure i'll dye my hair purple and paint my fingernails black. 

after all, if i'm going to live like a teenager i might as well look like one too.

-the paper doll is a terrible housekeep

hodge podge

dear me internet things are quite rosy today.

the air has that perfect crisp to it, the new cottage living was waiting for me when i went home for lunch, and autumn melons have begun to infiltrate the super market.

sigh.

things are just perfect.  and yet not.  which makes me being able to say that they are perfect all the sweeter.

still no word from walter.  no email.  no returned phone call.  didn't i tell you, internet, i phoned him?

ah.

it was after i came home on that retched snake day.

ok.

so i called the best friend because in times of crisisi she may keep you waiting for three hours but she'll always show.  and she, after having been bitten by snake when she was a wee tot, was the only person i know who doesn't fear the vile creatures.

i of course sat in the driveway in my car waiting for her because it was the only place i knew for sure the snake wasn't.  when she hadn't showed after 45 minutes i surveyed the walk and made a mad dash through the front door.

she found me sipping my third glass of wine holding a broom and hovering atop my couch.

she gladly poked around in the backyard and didn't laugh when i made her check my pile of dirty clothes.

no snake.  and a perfectly fine puppy.

i on the other hand was drunk by 6.

insert phone call here.

but i know like the snake whatever the fate-to stay or go-it will happen and no amount of my worrying will change that.

so i'm going to enjoy my new magazine, the chill in the air, and the season premiere of grey's anatomy.

all while stopping to check my voice mail on the hour.  every hour.

-the paper doll has found a small piece of bliss

where's samuel L?

motherfucking snakes in my motherfucking backyard internet.

yep, you heard me right.  SNAKES IN MY BACKYARD.

ok so really just SNAKE but it was/is, who knows, still in my backyard.

i wouldn't know because i ran screaming like a banshee back inside my house, out the front door, into my car, and sped back to work.

who needs a lunch break when you have A SNAKE IN YOUR BACKYARD?

who also needs to consider their loving pup when you have A SNAKE IN YOUR BACKYARD?  apparently not me because i just left her out there barking her head off at the SNAKE IN MY BACKYARD.

it's every man for himself.

so either i will return home at 5 to find a dead snake bitten pup.  or a dead pup snake bitten.  or something bitten by something that's now dead.

or either nothing bitten by nothing and hundreds of snakes crawling all over my back yard and in my house and curled up in my toilet and in my bed.

because that's what happens internet when you come home for lunch and your dog has a small snake cornered in the backyard the snake begins to multiply and its offspring invades your home.  because it's SNAKES IN MY HOUSE  the sequel to SNAKES IN MY BACKYARD.

i have no shovel nor a boyfriend.

i'll be getting both within the next 24 hours.

-the paper doll is having a mega freak out

what is it that they say about glass houses?

did you know internet that if you leave the front door open so that you can let in the marvelous sunlight and breeze through your glass storm door AND you don't push the bathroom door closed that you can see directly out into your front yard when sitting on the pot?

hello neighbors and passing cars and pedestrians it's me-your new neighbor.  i wear turquoise knickers and here's a shot of my lady bits and me mid pants pull up shooing the dog away. 

this was not a problem i had with my two story to die for vintage apartment.

grass was also not a problem i had with my two story to die for vintage apartment as it is impossible to sow seed on top of concrete.

waters bills didn't exist either.  the magic water fairy provided you with as much of the stuff as you needed.  hell you could just turn the faucet on and let it run all day (that's usually how long it took to get hot anyway) and never feel guilty because of that darn winged creature that so lavishly brought you water free of charge.

in my (two story to die for vintage) apartment i also never had strange and various unsundry men knock on my door at all hours in order to beg my permission for them to cut my grass for $20 as it was a two story apartment with no yard to speak of and see note above about concrete.

there was also a magic trash fairy.  all you had to do was walk to the edge of the parking lot, pitch the heftys in, and she made sure the carts were rolled to the street at the appropriate time and never was there a bug breeding cesspool in your backyard because you a) forgot to take the can out to the street again and b) because you forget for the 4th time and had to do something with your waste so you naturally pitched it in the bulging can anyway and now you can no longer move the thing even if you had remembered.

but you know there aren't any drunk college girls here (except the ones i invite over).  nor the petulant stench of marijuana wafting in through the vents courtesy of your downstairs neighbor.  and no white walls and cramped dinning room. 

and hey i've got my own built in security system-from now on i'm just leaving the doors open when i do my business-that's sure to scare them away.

-the paper doll is a happy (and exhibitionist) homeowner

silent sigh

ever since the death of my mother i've been faced with the question of, what is home?

losing walter forced me to further evaluate this notion.  as did buying a house, moving, getting a roommate, painting, buying new things.

ultimately i want a place that transcends four walls and a roof.  i want a haven, an inspiration, a safe house, a nest, a fortress, a dreamy place all my own that nurtures me through the storms.

this is not an apartment.  and i'm no longer in college.  the days of milk crates and mix matched thrift store furniture are a by gone era.

this is my house.  my home.  this is me.  and i have a 30 year mortgage to prove it.

but how do i create a home when i feel i'm missing a vital part?  how do i create a home when i have a roommate who to her this is a rental property? how do i make a place that is safe for me but respects her?

how do i do this without a family?

walter had become my little familial unit.  filling my apartment up with laughter and love and arguments-the way a family does. 

and my mom.  she is the one person i wanted to share this with more than anything.  because no one but a mother can reassure you.  convince you.  listen to you.  love you.

i'm just feeling very small and i'm missing the ones i loved the best.  and the dramatic start my new roommate and i got off to has not helped matters-but here is not the place to air that.

i just imagined that this move would be a cathartic reawaking.  a must needed shaking up and rearranging of my life.

little did i know it would come with its own baggage.

and that i would be left standing here empty handed shaking my head at the damage that can be done with words. 

A pointed out that it won't always be this way.  that the sadness that accompanies all my major milestones will get better when i have a family of my own to celebrate with.

when i have a husband and children to fill the void. to spill out my happiness on.

i guess what i really want isn't so much the perfect house but the support of a loving frame work to build my life upon.

so that's why i have this blog i guess.  and while i don't know any of you, you've become part of my family.  listening to my horrible ramblings.  sharing.  and inviting me into part of your world.

and i have come to depend on my faithful girls to fill the hole my mom left.  because only a woman's ears are made for venting and crying and late night feel better sessions.

and i still have my extended family, and my work, and my hobbies.  and my beautiful email exchange with the parisian red head.

so i'm slowly knitting together a piece meal life to cover over the tears of this past year.

i just want all the stitches to be in place now.  and i don't want them be ripped out the way they were these past few days.

-the paper doll is getting a band aide and a glass of wine

home sweet home

dear internet,

by the time you read this i'll be a happy homeowner.

i wish there was some big lesson or great growing wisdom i could tell you about.  some nugget that i've taken away from this experience.  but it's just too new and fresh for me to properly reflect on its gravity.

this is a big step.  yet not one at all. 

a process that has made me feel quite alone.  but wonderfully loved and supported.

crazy and frantic.  but beaming with joy.

this has revealed the duality of life that we so often frown upon.  the gentle pulling from limb to limb that we seek to silence.

the possibility of feeling two separate ways at the exact same moment (and learning to be ok with that, of fully accepting the moment now matter how awkward and unsettling).

this has made me acutely aware of the huge blessings i've been given and the universe's way of providing at just the right moment.  of working it out when it's supposed to be worked out and not a minute sooner or later (no matter how hard i tap my feet).

i can't begin to thank all the people enough that helped me with this.  from the home inspector, to the friends, to the big money donor. 

i am infinitely blessed and humbled by you all.

life is good.

thank you, thank you, thank you.

-the paper doll knows her mama is seeing all this

betty crocker

when faced with an overwhelming task instead of buckling down and grabbing cette task by the horns and wrestling it to defeat-i clean, or cook, or clean and cook, or just get drunk.  i once cleaned and reorganized walter's entire kitchen one night because the thought of studying for my mid term gave me the hives.

he claims there's an actual name for this condition, and it does not start with pro and end in crastination mind you.  but the preferred psycho babble escapes me at this point.

i, however, like to think of this affliction as creative distraction.  as in who needs to pack when i have all these other more pressing tasks to see too.  like baking cupcakes and sorting and labeling all my digital photos.  how are people suppose to know these pictures are from my birthday party and not christmas if i don't label them right now?

and cupcakes internet.  they fix everything.  they're clearly more important than packing your whole entire life up and heading across town.  cupcakes, vital sustenance on the long half mile journey ahead. 

they are especially important when your best girl A is there to help you pack lick the bowl and eat the icing straight out of the tub.

i could wax poetic about the side hurting laughter.  could recount the dropping of six fully iced specimens on the floor and my desire to just scrap them off and re-ice them.  i could tell you that no alcohol was involved yet we still kept each other in stitches.  i could relay A's proclamation, "does it bother you at all that we are completely sober yet approach problems the same way as when we're drunk?"  i could tell you i rigged up a transporting device using scotch tape, half a box and some old birthday candles.  i could share the jokes, and silliness, and tears.

but it wouldn't matter to you.  you couldn't possibly understand.

because a night spent with your girls escapes all literary devices and can only be experienced first hand.

you wouldn't love me more if i told you.  you wouldn't fall for her the way i have. 

and trying to convince you feels cheap.

all i can really say is- i realized just how much i've missed this.  how empty the last few years have been without the joy and love that can only be shared between women.

and i vow that no matter what man the good lord brings i'll always make time to lick the spoons with my best girl friends.

-the paper doll is eternally grateful

a bunch of "what if" bullshit

internet i'm sure you are quite familiar with women and our desire to umm-"vent."  it's what we do.  it's what we're good at-endlessly talking a subject until it not only ceases to be but it in fact: begins to decompose; is eaten by worms; picked at by birds; finally disintegrates; and then blows away still to be talked about years later when we've had one too many margaritas.

i can no longer withhold the very essence of my sex.  so internet, it's time to wet your virgin ears with the spittle of my venting. 

i'm buying a house internet.  a house.  i can not return it if it breaks.  i cannot get a new one, or upgrade, or exchange it for a nicer one.  there's no receipt or nice girl at the counter who will turn a blind eye to my lack of receipt having.

no internet after 2pm on friday i'm stuck.  stuck with 1284 square feet of house.  1284 square feet of equity and debt and homeownership.  and no central heating and air in a city that has a trap door to hell.

in short, internet, what the hell have i done?  i'm 23 years old.  isn't it illegal to strap so much responsibly to a person who was doing jager shots at the saloon friday night? 

and how can someone who agonizes over the dollar bin at target possibly be comfortable purchasing something with a price tag that has more zeros than allowed in a discount store?

and what if a big meteor comes and smashes the thing to bits?  what if it blows up a la fight club style?  or the tub falls through the floor?  or termites eat it?  or some one breaks in?  or what if i can't afford it?

what if something goes wrong and i can not afford this house.  no receipt internet.  no take backs.

no layaway or credit card.  no internet, it's me and my budget and 1284 square feet of house that i'm terrified i can't afford.

when walter was in the picture he was my prince.  my i can't get in too deep because we'll get married and then there will be two incomes and i will most definitely be able to afford this house.  and if anything terrible happens he can fix it.  and buying a house is good thing because i'm beginning to settle down.

he was the voice of reason (seriously this was his nickname) and encouragement.  he soothed my fears and kept chanting you can do it, it will be ok.

he was my house cheerleader internet.  my go to guy.  my mr. fix it.  my...

my optimistic better half.

and i know i won't have to declare bankruptcy and that i can handle whatever horrible thing that's bound to happen .  i have options, and a loving network of support and cash should the need ever arise.

i just miss the immediacy of a hug and kiss. 

a soothing everything will work out whispered in my ear and an army of love at my side.

-the paper doll is going at it alone and she's scared shitless

we interrupt the regular scheduled programming to bring you this broadcast:

dear sweet internet,

it's official, I'M BUYING A HOUSE.  the bank called yesterday to confirm that they had decided to give me the money.

not really that surprising but those people sure are cranky and indecisive.  first, they tell you sure you're pre-approved.  then, when you make a big fat offer and it gets accepted they tell you well actually fill some more paperwork out and jump through 14 hoops lit with fire and turn 27 cartwheels and then tip toe across this high wire while juggling and then we'll call you in a week and let you know something.

i cried once on the phone with my mortgage agent and i think that's what did it.  that or my impeccable lack of credit and no savings account.

how ever this happened i'm both excited and delighted and terrified.  i feel much too young to be doing this.  what the hell do i know about houses anyway?  and PITI and interest rates and septic tanks? 

but the other hand says-you just got dumped, you're recovering from the death of your mom this is a good thing.  a new thing.  a much deserved starting over.

the third hand that's tied behind my back says i don't wanna pack up all my stuff and move and can't i just wallow in my misery at my nice apartment.

my mom left strict instructions that i was not to marry after her death.  not to stuff the ever increasing hole of her absence with a lover.  she made that mistake when she was young and like a good mother made sure i was to steer clear of the same nasty divorce she suffered.

the week's recent events have ensured that i won't marry too quickly or ever at all because the candidate skipped out.  but she never said i couldn't buy a house.  move across town and fill my time and heart with do-it-yourself projects.

at least this way the only hurt i can suffer is when i bang my thumb with a hammer or hit my head on the ceiling.

mere flesh wounds that will heal-instead of the aching pain of physical love.

-the paper doll is going all under the tuscan sun on her grief's ass

home sweet hangover

it never fails that when we are all together we talk about her.  she kept us together in life and now manages to do so in death.

and while i knew most things about her there are always new things uncovered when we sit and spin yarns.  when we raise glasses and cook meals.

it keeps her close while magnifying her absence.  makes me laugh.  makes me cry.

as i buy my first house and box up my belongings and as my dad tears up the house of my youth, i've thought about what home means.  and i've realized it doesn't matter at all.  because what makes me feel most at ease is a bottle of wine and good company.

it also causes me to have a bit of a headache and a mild case of exhaustion.  but measuring furniture and picking paint colors was worth the bottle of wine, pomegranate martini and lack of sleep. 

-the paper doll is feeling nostalgic and a little nauseous

rooms to go

I don’t know if it’s all the mother’s day advertisements plastered in cyberspace or this new domestication I’m taking on but lately I’ve had new aching for my mom.  A total superficial desire to have her around.

All one had to do was mutter some small thing about not having anything to wear, or make a comment about how you saw this thing in that store that would go perfect with that other thing and like magic a check was being written or a box appeared on your doorstep. 

And I know many of you are going to get your panties in a twit about how spoiled that must have made me.  and yes I’m an only child and yes I had a good life.  but every wish was not her command, it just brought her great joy to see me smile.  and it wasn’t about money or objects or buying my love.  she said no.  and she didn’t produce her credit card on demand.  she often snuck back without you and snatched it up keeping it under her bed for weeks before giving it to you. for her it was the abundance she had the luxury of sharing.  the giving she could do.

as I buy this house and drool over all the furnishings I wish I could have I miss her perceptiveness.  I miss the surprise boxes and bags and shopping trips.  I miss the fawning and attention and smiling because I found the exact thing to go over the fireplace.  the endless conversations about paint color.  the time spent together searching.

the absence of a woman figure has been magnified by this purchase and it looms over me like the roof line of my new dwelling.

my father ensures that I don’t spend money replacing the roof or having my septic tank pumped out.  he buys me dispose-alls and new duct work.  he smiles at the craftsman ship of my mantle and the shine of my hardwood floors.  he drools over putting surround sound in my living room and building me new kitchen cabinets.

and I’m extremely grateful for his generosity and do it yourself spirit.  for the quick gruff phone calls about tapping on to the public sewer supply.  I couldn’t have made this purchase without him.

I just can’t furnish it without her. 

-the paper doll just wants one more day

old mcsara had a house

internet, brace yourself because I'M BUYING A HOUSE.

that's right the offer i made was accepted and now i'm in escrow, whatever the hell that means.

i've been starry eyed over this brick cottage for some time.  getting my agent to let me in so i can fondle the curtains and dream of furniture placement.  i knew the instance we pushed open the door it's where i wanted to live.  a place that wouldn't make me gag every month when i wrote out the mortgage check or have to pay when the hot water heater explodes or the roof caves in.  because trust me internet, with my luck as soon as i move my new ikea couch in the fireplace will shoot rockets out of it and burn the whole thing down.  but by god it will be mine.  my pile of charred bricks.

seriously, it's a great house.  at least it looks like a great house.  the inspector comes friday to tell me whether in fact it truly is a great house.  i'm guessing the duct tape that's holding the kitchen plumbing together might be a problem but when you shut the cabinet doors you don't even notice it.

that goes for the ugly vinyl floor i'll just be putting a rug over and the lack of cental heating and air i'll suffer through with my own personal *fan boy.

what can i say, i like a few quirks in my high ticket items.  i mean just look at the boyfriend. 

but what i can't figure out is why i have to pay 150 dollars to get something inspected that i won't even be using.  or why i can't get all these asinine tasks done at one time instead of having to take here an hour, there an hour, everywhere and hour hour. 

i'm not a patient one grasshopper. 

but luckily i have people like the dad, and the boyfriend, and the incredibly personalityless agent to soothe my nerves when my butt clenches up and i start shaking with fear and exhilaration.  when i want to scream what have i done i'm going to have to declare bankruptcy while jumping up and down on the couch shouting i love it.

-the paper doll will let you know ee i ee io

*scantily clad island boy whose job it is is to use large palm leaves to fan my tanned and sweating body. 

a huntin we will go, a huntin we will go

internet do you know how hard it is to find a house? 

consumed.  fully consumed with the house hunting expedition.  the time i normally set aside for wowing you with my literary prowess i'm searching the internet for acceptable abodes. 

i have an agent but yet i spend valuable hours scouring real estate pages. 

i'm harder on houses than i am on lovers.  too bricky, too old, not old enough, needs to much work, too perfect.  a new level of obsessive compulsion has been reached.  odds are poor vicki is ruing the day i signed on with her for two months.

my mind is so engulfed with this i have nothing to offer you internet.  no insightful words of wisdom besides: my boss is off all week, i'm going to see david sedaris read tonite, and i don't have to work friday.

if you haven't heard from me it's because my agent has offed my head and left me to rot in one of the 16746843216763134643 houses i've looked at.

as soon as all this settles i promise i'll be back.  with pictures and moving boxes and witty sarcasm oh my.

-the paper doll sends her love