It's Chocolate Chip

I am a slacker.

However, folks. I have come up with a plan. I shall type my entries into word at home, then pop into the library and post a few at a time. Hopefully, I'll be able to keep up and catch up with you all.

I miss blogging quite terribly, and I realize how spot on it feels to do it. I feel so freed and invigorated. Not that I usually have anything to blog about. :o) Let's see what's been happening in the past few weeks, or has it been months?

It's been absolutely cold. So frigid that when I have to fill gas, I swear my face falls off. One day someone from out of state asked why I was pumping my own gas. I giggled and smiled, then though... ah, you haven't been here in the winter. NO ONE would want the job of pumping gas in the winter. No one. It's much too cold for that. I mean, come on, I am now faceless. :)

Let's see... my brother is making great leaps and bounds in this world. He's trying new meds, trying therapy, trying regular college, it's amazing. I am so proud and so happy he'd had the chance to experience what such a life can be like.

The Boy and I have puppy fever. We're on hold with this though since were not sure if his mom will give us one of the new puppies or not. I'd just like to know for once and all, to see if we should be loooking elsewhere. But I have been looking online and I am quite enamored with all the lovely dogs I see. So cute!

I broke a fingernail this morning trying to open my frozen car door and it didn't entirely gross me out. This is new. I got a haircut last week and I like it. I think it makes me look like a mature 12 year old, which is an improvement.

I hate the keyboard I am typing on. It has one of those little backspace keys and it's throwing me all off. Not to mention, I use one of the ergonomic keyboards at work and this keyboard is from the dark ages of computers.

I want to talk about trying right now. Not as in "these are trying times," but as in I'll give it a go. I met a man and emailed his wife about how impressed I am that they are giving something a go. This couple has eight biological children, why I don't know. His wife came from a family of 15 and he came from a large family, but not quite that massive. So, they wanted lots of kids to fill the house and recently they agreed to take on two foster kids. They receive no help from the government for their own kids nor will they get any for the two new kids. They will have these kisd for at least six months and may wind up with them forever as their single-parent mom was shipped off to Iraq. Before the mother left, things weren't going very well for her in the first place. However, now they have a happy albiet full home. The only problem is that they are lacking in clothing for the 9 month old girl since she came to them with few items. I did my best to give it a try and round up some items. Between my mother and I we purchased four shirts and two pairs of pants for the girl, and four shirt for the boy. I am ashamed that for all my trying, that is all I received.

However, I see them as an inspiration to give it a go and try something you want, something you know you can make better, make happier.

For now, I want to make a rescued dog better. I'm not read for children yet as I am so much of a child myself.

I still cry when someone else gets the last cookie. Speaking of.... where is my cookie?

Welcome Back, Kotter

Oh, my blogger friends, how I have missed thee.

I do not have internet access at home and I don't feel safe or comfortable blogging from work. So, here I am at the library, finally having to scratch the itch to blog. I've had so many ideas, so many stories, and thoughts that I've wanted to share, but alas it has not be an option. But perhaps, I shall make more frequent trips to the library until I am once again connected to the cyberworld.

I shall just run down a list of updates in life.

We have the Christmas tree up and decorated, however the rest of the house does not look as put together as the tree. This is unfortunate as we are having a house guest next week for three or four days. This shall be interesting and I will have to remember not to walk around naked, not an image I am sure you all wanted, but it's the truth you crave.

My mom had another back surgery on Monday. She is doing all right and seems to be more lucid post-surgery this time around. Her previous surgery in June left her telling people very interesting things. Let's just hope that this lucidity also brings pain relief and brings her back to walking again.

I have a new job within the company that I was working for, and it has been interesting. There is a team of five of us and we had four days of training. After those few days, we were sent off on our own to work. It's been a little scary and stressful, but I think we're pulling together as a team.

I have so much to report that I don't have anything else t report lest this becomes overwhelming. I hope you are all well and I am sorry I haven't been keeping up on reading your blogs. I dearly miss my DSL.

It's spelled H-O-M-E.

I'm a homeowner. I'm not quite sure I'm in love with this new title. I'd always dreamed of owning a home, except in my dreams I had ample money to decorate, to fix, add, subtract, and make the house all mine, all the time. If I wanted to switch rugs, curtains, wall color, etc. in my dreams, I did.

In reality, I have water leaking from the washing machine faucet. Both of the actual knobs to turn the water on and off, drip water, no spray water onto the floor. This is both a water hazzard and an electrical shock hazzard. I have a brand new fridge complete with water and ice maker in the door. There is a dent in that door and the water doesn't come out of the fridge. Water goes to the water filter, the copper tubing is freezing cold, but no water comes out of the fridge. I have a ceiling that needs to be painted, a spare bedroom that could use a coat of paint, dusting still left to do, paint to remove from the woodwork, mold to bleach off the window sills, hang blinds and curtain, etc.

Also, we're moving this weekend and we have had the damndest time finding help. The Boy's youngest sister and her boyfriend had offered help, which was a wonderful offer. The boyfriend is huge, 6'8" and strong look- a farm boy. He would have been wonderful with furniture. However, his sister bailed on us. That leave his older sister and her husband who cannot arrive until after 1pm. That leaves us and while I can do my portion of heavy lifting, The Boy has degenerative arthritis in his back, so while he can lift, he pays for it later on.

My parents heard this and my dad heeded the call of duty. He is driving the four hours to come help us move and will drive back the same night. My mom is staying home since she cannpt help lift, no can walk without the aid of a cane or walker. Thank you daddy!

My brother has also offered help for Sunday evening. He is going to our hometown for a wedding this weekend and will be on his way to his new apartment in another state. I hope to put him to work painting since he's earned a living by doing just that before. Maybe he can hang blinds. Some how the handy gene skipped my dad and wound up in my brother.

So, if you're into praying, sending luck, or just thinking of others when they are in need, this would be the weekend to send some good vibes. We're gonna need 'em.

Confusion

There's been some confusion with the links to the rings I put in my last post. The Boy and I are NOT engaged. He did not propose. We merely picked out rings because he wanted to know what I liked and I found the exact ring I want while we were looking. Because he had a previous fiancee, we have to spend so much money in order to receive the full credit for the original ring he purchased. Thus, we picked out his ring. As to when we're getting engaged, I have no idea. With the expenses of the house coming up, I'm not sure.

It's on.

While working, just starting a new project, the phone rang. I answered as I always do "Hello, This is Amber." The voice on the other end identified herself as my loan officer at the bank. She provided me with good news. I was approved for the final draft of the loan. The house is mine-ours!

She also was able to lock me in at a lower interest rate than previously thought. It's been a struggle to get here, to be able to say that it looks as if it shall go on as planned tomorrow. That I shall sign my life away and get keys to a house I love. The Boy and I both agreed that our visions of the inside of the house were definitely sugar-coated since we saw it last. We were so in awe that it was such a wonderful house that when we walked through for the final time before the sale, we noticed some work that needs to be done. While so far it seems to be just cosmetic work, we just didn't notice anything in our dream like state the first two times around. However, I hear that's what happens when you're in love. You don't notice the bad habits, the stuff that needs to be worked on.

So, we also bought appliances the other day. We're going to have to remove a cupboard in order to get the fridge to fit in, which we'd probably have to remove a cupboard if we wanted a normal sized fridge in the kitchen period. The height of the cabinet above the spot for the refrigerator would require us to get a very small fridge indeed, small than the one that's currently in my apartment. We say no to that. So, now I'm the proud owner of a new fridge, new stove, and dishwasher. The previous owners took the fridge and range with them, but left us with a broken dishwasher. Yea!

We also headed to the home improvement store last night to pick up paint supplies, rakes, bags, cleaning supplies, a new lock and deadbolt, and other such goodies. The expense of being a homeowner is already taking its toll. Saturday my parents and The Boy's mom are coming up to the house with us to help us clean. It will be the first time my parents meet his, and on the anniverary of the same day that The Boy and I met in real life having had internet and phone conversations prior that.

Also, I got to put on my girl and look at shiny, sparkly things last night. The Boy and I picked out our engagment and wedding rings. He said he was going to choose the one I picked out anyway and wanted to show it to me once at the store. It was great fun looking at all the shiny things and placing them on my hand, well I only tried on two. The second one being it. :) We don't know yet if we can afford the lay away plan, but we'll see in the future what comes our way.


http://www.helzberg.com/hdsim/jsp/catalog.do?product_id=1647891&channelId=-8820&programId=9410

Updates:

• 
  My grandmother's auction went off without a hitch, which was great news. I was there to witness the insanity that she let rule her life. I shall post a photo or two of the building in which the auction was held. It was on the fair grounds in a metal building normally meant to show off 4-H projects, quilts, tractors, and other rural, small town items- things at which one normally wins a blue ribbon. And my grandmother won all the blue ribbons that day. People who'd been to her house of stuff could only comment, "How did she get it all in there." People who had never been there said, "This all came from one house?" But everyone said "Wow" first.




• We are eight days from closing on our house. There have been a few glitches along the way. Hopefully, things run smoothly from now on. Dealing with an FHA loan changes everything and makes it all a little more complex. Tips for those planning on purchasing houses soon. But most importantly, find a realtor and banker you like. They'll be with you every step of the way. I am trying to think of a gift for my realtor for all her hard work. I don't think I can send the banker anything but flowers.




• I still have not rented out my apartment. I must do this in order to be able to afford the house. I am scared and beyond nervous.




• The stuff that was abandoned by their purchasers, the stuff that didn't sell, and the empty boxes filled two large dumpsters. That does not include the last things in the basement the auctioneer said not to bring since we we're out of room and it was junk anyway. That stuff was put on the curb with a free sign.




• Because of the leftovers I am now the proud owner of my fourth set of dishes. The Boy has a set of dishes also. We must have dinner parties in order to justify having that many plates. We also have this cute shelf, which I am excited to place somewhere in the house so I can smile when I see it- to know I rescued it from abandonment.




• I feel no connection, no sentimental value to the items taken from my grandmother's house. They were chosen because I liked them. There is only one thing I would feel sentimental about and that is the electric organ, which my brother has. I am glad he received it and it stayed in the family.




• More to come... but first... photos




• 

What's in it for me?

Curb Stomp- place the hated person's face onto the curb with the mouth open, ensuring that the top jaw is over the top lip of the curb and the bottom is also placed just so. Hold onto the person's arm in a strange angle behind his or her body, then place a preferably booted foot onto the back of the head and stomp.

I've always enjoyed this image. It was in a movie I saw where a neo-nazi was curb stomped. If anyone deserves to be curb stomped, it's a neo-nazi. Ignorance by choice is hell, surely not bliss. So, this image floats into my mind when I think of my first-ever boyfriend, Will. Why you may ask? For some reason my mind believes I enjoyed this particulary duet of words during the time we dated. If this is actually true, I do not recall.

Why conjur up Will? I came across an email of his the other day. It was so touching. And when I think of how I treated this young man who was enjoying his first forays into the dating world, I know I definitely curb stomped his heart and left him bleeding and broken on the street corner.
I was inexperienced in the dating world also. These new adventures were confusing to me, these new feelings were scary, and I ran away. I ran away to flirt with other boys, to feel sexy, to discover who I was in male eyes that didn't already love me. Unfortunately, I'd have to say it worked. My escape route put me in the path of a man who gave me a great gift, the acceptance of my own body, my physical being that I have always hated.

Andrew gave this gift to me and for that I am thankful because before I hated the vessel in which my mind is carried, not to mention hating the mind at times. So, I dislike parts of my body, but understand what and why I feel this way. My tummy makes clothes look bulging in places that clothes shouldn't buldge, and this paunch makes buying pants difficult since I don't follow women's body rules: My waist either equal to or large than my hips, this equation is just dependent upon how heavy I am at the moment.

Will gave me a view into a new world. Andrew gave me a view into myself. And I gave myself a chance to be myself.

I am me and I shall not be detered in being me, which no one is trying to stop me. Even The Boy who hates some of my clothes, my jewelry, my decorating ideas (who doesn't love puke green?!), my choices of movies, just let's them slip by (except for the puke green-that was tabled real fast) and let's them wash over him. The Boy enjoys this shower of "me" and smiles while it washes, smiles while he seems me being happy to be me. Perhaps, the only shower he did not enjoy was the crying jag I was on the other night because I had stopped taking my medication. However, he held me close, made me promise to take the happy pills the next morning, and just let himself get wet.

Walk this way

My mother is a woman filled with strength, courage, and determination. When she wants something, she gets it, especially if my dad's involved. ;) I jest. But she's my hero and she's accomplish so many things that I hold in high esteem.

She took off by herself in Washington, DC and strode onto the subway. She found her way to an pro-choice rally and hollered her thoughts out to the world, some time in the 1980's. She joined a union, a nearly all male union, and ran for different positions. She won some and lost some, while feeling the sting of sexism from men who hadn't yet felt the presence of woman in their workplace. Well, felt it they did. She was on the Martin Luther King, Jr. Holiday Comission to make Martin Luther King, Jr. a legal holiday in our state. More than once she and her fellow members heard the words, "Why would we want that to be a holiday. There aren't any black people here."

Words of ignorance that do not understand that we are all in this together. There is only one planet and one race of people, human beings. That's it and regardless of the distinctions we try to draw between ourselves, we're all from the same stock.

So, my mother has done many more things, accomplish several more goals, and changed lives in very different ways. Now, my mom cannot be a part of those things as she once was nor as she may want to be. As aforementioned in a previous blog, my mother had back surgery at the end of June. That was her third back surgery and what was supposed to be the miracle, the cure.

However, it may have been snake oil, but by no one's fault. She began hurting about two weeks ago. Pain scorches her nerves. Another doctor's visit, another X-ray, and another round of bad news. Her spine has shifted. It is crooked like someone with severe scoliosis and this curveture is causing the nerves to be pinched. She may have to have another surgery which they are hoping to post-pone until December, six months after the last surgery. Four more vertebrae may have to be fused with pins, rods, and cages. They are hoping she can hold out even longer, but the doctor said it was up to her and how much pain she can handle. But right now, it would be too great a risk of infection to open her up again.

It's hard to watch your hero fall and not be able to get up.

It's a hoopdy and a happdy

Fall is coming. I love and fear fall. Because that's what happens... the leaves drop, the sky descends sooner each day, and my emotions topple over into a basket case of a heap. Then the darkness of winter arrives, days without sun, days without feeling anything above zero degrees, days without hope. Sadness arrives, sadness and claustrophobia.

The snow makes the world smaller in some ways, the driveways and sidewalks lose their widths, the spaces between parking spots shrink, yet the world gets bigger. The piles of snow grow, the streets raise up an inch or two under the packed snow, we reach closer to the ceiling of clouds. Except, I stop reaching. I hold my hands to myself, I hole myself up in my room, and do not wish to live, do not want to talk, and do not want to do anything but sleep.

It feels so bewildering to love a season so much and to loathe it just as much. However, I am filled with dread concerning another matter. The Boy and I found a house we love. After seeing nine other houses, we walked into this one, smiled at each other, and nodded. We knew. You just know. It felt right. It seemed like us. I could imagine my furniture in each room, I could imagine a future in the backyard, a car in the garage, and our mess in the family room. We put an offer in and the sellers counter-offered. We accepted this counter offer.

Banks and lenders had already been visited and papers with stamps of pre-approval followed us joyfully around the area as our realtor showed up prospective properties. We've been to the bank again, things are in motion, and the house shall hopefully be ours.

During this process, there have been days where anxiety spiked and I was jittery with nerves. I told my co-workers what was going on while in training one day, and received an odd reaction from the substitute trainer. "You're buying a house?" Yes, we're buying a house. "Are you married?" No. "But you're buying a house?" Yes, we're buying a house. "But you're not married?" No, we're not married. "But you're buying a house?" Yes. "Isn't that backwards?" Not for us.

Why does she care if we are married? Why does she care if we are buying a house? Why does she think it's backwards? Further, why is she questioning me about it in a room full of people at work using her moral slant?

So, we may be homeowners. Well, I may be. It's only got my name. I looked to hire a lawyer to write up a document and the estimate I received made me want to make this lawyer eat his legal briefs. $175.00 an hour with no estimate of how many hours it would take, plus a retainer fee. I think not. If nothing else, I'll type something up and The Boy and I can sign it in front of a notary public, thus creating a legal document. How binding will that be? Binding enough to allow The Boy to keep his balls. That's what I threaten him with all the time... castration.

Such a fun game!

Sparkles

I've never been much of a girly girl. I don't wear make-up, I don't wear jewelry 90% of the time, but yet I'm not a complete tom boy. I don't watch sports, I don't know anything about cars, etc. I always felt there was a healthy balance. This weekend that balance tipped and fell over.

The girliness outshined everything. Why did this happen? I went home over the long weekend to visit with my parents while The Boy enjoyed the debauchery of Vegas. I enjoy visiting my parents immensely and usually have a good time while there. This weekend proved that theory correct. However, one activity filled all of my time. I cleaned, sorted, and bagged jewelry. More jewelry that I've ever seen or touched in my entire life put together.

In one day we went through 300 small bags, my mom has used over 700 price labels, the world was spinning with gold, pearls, silver, and rhinestones. It was a glitzy, shiny, sometimes gaudy affair.

My grandmother had a house full of stuff when she died and none of it was organized, sorted, together, etc. It was a hodge podge, a mish-mash of items. Matching earings were in different cases (there were over 15 cases), pins, earings, and necklaces were not stored properly and lost their stones, items tarnished over time, they were tangled, mangled, and unloved. We brought some back to their previous luster, we threw some in the garbage, and my parents have had some repaired to a fabulous state.

During my perusing, I began to covet some pieces. My mother contributed to this desire by saying, "I held this aside so you could see if you liked it and want it." I liked and wanted many pieces and I now have a fine jewelry collection. I earned my "pay" this weekend. I did nothing but work with this jewelry from the time I came home until the time I left. My mother, however, has persevered much longer than I- she's been at it a month already. I think she felt that there was never an end in sight. However, when I spoke with her last, one could finally see the living room floor and the dining room table was becoming a place where people could perchance eat some time.

Tomorrow is a private sale for a few friends of my mom's. Then Friday is a larger private sale and Saturday is the public sale. I just think it's a shame that the 100 plus boxes of dolls aren't worth and most can't be restored to usuable, desireable states. They will remain orphans in boxes tucked away in garages. Alas, sometimes only beauty finds a home.