That bear is blue

We still don't have a couch so perhaps I'm not ready to talk couches quite yet. Apparently my last blog post could have incorrectly intimated that we had done all sorts of things to the house like constructed a patio. I hope it goes without saying that our greatest accomplishment, since our initial excursion into the realm of home improvement, was putting our clothes away. I mean, how homeonwerly of us, to remove our clothes from the floor in our bedroom and put them in dressers. What will us crazy kids be up to next? Maybe we'll buy some trash cans or wait, I have distant memories of trash problems. For another night.


Tales from our new old home.

We are learning quickly that life in a an old new home isn’t all rainbows and bear hugs. (I guess what I’m really getting at here, is that I watched an episode of the Care Bears a few weeks ago and wondered just what the hell was going on. Shouldn’t all the boy bears be blue and …..blue or whatever color bears are. Are bears blue?).
What we thought was nice tile in our bathroom turned out to be rather cheap paneling. The cheap paneling is about the consistency of your garden variety cardboard, which is awesome, but as you may know, we don’t generally make cardboard showers. This is because wet cardboard doesn’t hold up as well as say a nice pink tile. Which, related story is underneath the paneling and it’s debatable whether it’s worth pulling out crappy paneling just to end up with some pink tile.

M: I don’t know why I’m so hungry.
Boss: Maybe you’re getting your period.
M: It probably doesn’t help that I just picked up an US Weekly. I just want to know what’s going on with Molly and Jason.

Unfortunately the shower in the master bathroom leaks. Aside: Why is it called the master bathroom? I’m currently typing this sans internet, so I’ve no way of figuring out why it was ever called the master bedroom and bathroom. The genesis of the word master in my own pea brained memory being some sort of vestigial term conferred during our less intelligent years in terms of human equality. When did the term originate? It's a wonder people even got out of bed in the morning, before the advent of the internet with the misguided notion that they could do something in the world. Aside: The first chapter of Moby Dick is sheer genius for the mere fact that Wikipedia and the Internet weren't a part of Melville's research. Perhaps I’m wrong, maybe it’s roots are Neo-Galic. I just kind of wanted to type Neo-Galic.

Needless to say we embarked on anther fix it project, the toilet venture going oh so well, and put on a new shower head. The plus is that we know have a new shower head that leaks in quite a different manner than the old one.

S: How was your shower?
M: It was a fine mist.
S: What?
M: You heard what I said.

So now we’ve got a nice new leaky showerhead, which is light years cooler than an old leaky shower head.
In other highlights of my day I dressed up for work today, wearing a nice red shirt. On the plus side I received compliments from several people who basically said, “you look nice” or “spiffy” or something. On the downside I interpreted their compliments as not genuine compliments but an indictment of my usual work attire.

Aka, Did your wife or your mother dress you today?
I didn't recognize that usual stench of failure that accompanies your t-shirts?

Boss: "I keep wondering who this guy is that is just wandering into our office."

Translation: Perhaps if you didn’t resemble a hobo on a day to day basis you’d receive some respect around here.

I’ll be wearing a t-shirt and jeans to work tomorrow. I kept wanting someone to ask me why I was dressed up, so I could say, “They always say to dress for the job you want not the one you have. I’m planning to work as a salsa dancer.” But no one ever asked. (And why do people say this anyway? This only applies to job interviews correct? Otherwise you're not dressing for the job that you really want, you're the idiotic looking guy who overdresses at his job. Judging by the tips and requests for water that I received from several library patrons I'm not sure that dressing for the job I want really worked. Besides which, what if you really wanted to get into surfing or semi-nude modeling. What then? I want to be a writer. Does that mean I should show up for work smoking a pipe? while taking sips from my cup of whiskey while reassuring people that I'm just dressing for the job I want then banging away on a typewriter I brought from home? My point is that that saying is yet another example of the culture logic of late capitalism infecting our beliefs about what it means to be a success. Maybe I can be a success just by doing my job really well no matter what it is, maybe....

I'm just f-ing with you all. Money may not buy you happiness but it can buy you friends and things that will make you happy. I mean, money could even do something great, like buy you more money from a different currency so that you'll be even richer. Ponzi scheme.

Okay, someone did, and I said, “All dressed up no place to go,” because I’m almost 30 years old and that’s the sort of strange thing that older men say to make sure that people find them creepy.

Other scenarios:
Worker: Why are you dressed up?
M: Why aren’t you dressed up you dirty slob.

Worker: “”
M: To make you feel inadequate about the way you’re dressed.

Worker: ""
M: What, this old thing? (Laugh companionably and throw arm around shoulder).

Worker: “”
M: I’ve got a really important meeting after work….with your mom! Zing.

And so on....