Heavy reflection.

I have been unusually content for the past week. The past few months had been wild, and not in a fun way. Decompressing feels so nice. I’m not as easily rattled by small things anymore, except for silverfish.

My bike frame was supposed to arrive today, but UPS is being UPS, postponing it another week. I have accepted this as a minor setback as I haven’t been riding my bikes outside of my daily commute anyway. (Too wet and chilly for this delicate lady.) I have been riding more, though, now that I live more than twice as far from work. I used to be able to get to work from my old place in seven minutes. Now it takes me seventeen and has me riding up a steep–but short–hill both ways.

I live at the bottom of a hill, and the only way to avoid it is to take a detour. I like hills, but exerting that much energy at the start of a ride early in the morning is a bit much. It does make me feel heroic having my legs feel pumped within thirty seconds into the commute.

I’m still amazed that I live in a house, but making it feel like home is still a work in progress. I still haven’t figured out all the light switches, and the walls are still bare of art, except for a wall tapestry in the living room. I was about to remove it until I realized that it was hiding the circuit breaker box. So I guess the tapestry will have to grow on me until I find a long, narrow, and tasteful replacement, like a giraffe growth chart.

A wall tapestry featuring a painting of an old European seaside town being lifted out of the way to show the circuit breaker box.

I’ve been waiting for my landlords’ cars to both vanish from the driveway so that I can get busy with a hammer and hang the art. I feel better about the landlords now. Initially, I was worried that they’d be overbearing. So far, the biggest issue has been with the landlady not understanding that I’m deaf to the extent that she’s called me on my phone. Perhaps slipping her a copy of my audiogram is in order.

Other than a wall tapestry, the landlords have supplied the kitchen with a slightly mismatched dining set. The two chairs match, but not with the table. Still, this means the next time I throw a pizza party, at least one guest will get to sit and eat.

The landlords’ contribution to the living room was a sofa chair, reinforcing the idea that the place is meant for one person only. The seating options for my guests are limited to a camp chair or my lap. The living room is so small that the sofa chair is just over five feet from the tv. I don’t even need to wear my glasses to watch tv.

The bathroom has a splash of luxury with a stone countertop: my first out of many bathrooms. My previous bathroom did not have a countertop but a circular pedestal bathroom sink too small for even a soap dispenser, which would frequently fall into the sink. Though not the worst-looking bathroom I’ve had, it was the most poorly-designed.

Now, instead of keeping my toothbrush on a shelf right above the toilet, I store it in a large mirrored medicine cabinet. When I open up the cabinet doors, I still get to admire my (new!) dazzling smile as more mirrors line the inside. I can put my head inside, fold the doors behind me, and see myself into infinity.

I could hype myself up from multiple angles!

A WikiHow illustration featuring a brown haired white guy pointing at his reflection with a stern expression on his face.

That is… IF IT HADN’T FALLEN ON MY FACE!

Continue reading “Heavy reflection.”

House party of one.

What’s the word for when you have a crush on someone, but in a strictly platonic manner. As in, you really want to be their friend.

Someone translated hydraulic press videos through interpretative dancing, and it’s the best thing I’ve seen so far this year. Not only is it a unique idea, but also it is super well-executed. I’m shocked the video has only 1,600 views.

So, I figure this means Sarah McCreanor isn’t famous enough to refuse my friendship. I, too, enjoy spending an inordinate time and energy creating something superfluous. She must also get “But why?’d” all the time.

Continue reading “House party of one.”

Naturally creepy. (Plus a mini Throwback blog post from Jan 25, 2012.)

Ok, Bezos, you win. I’ve upcycled one of #304’s empty Amazon boxes as a bedside table. I get to roll out of my bed without injuring myself for a week as my bed frame was disassembled and moved to my future home on Tuesday.

I sleep a safe 11″ off the floor. I can make do with this for a few nights. The camp chair as a couch situation, however, is getting old. Every time I go camping with this chair hereon, I will have indoor memories associated with it. I’ve sullied my camp chair by turning it into makeshift living room furniture for a month. Yup.

I was supposed to have the day off yesterday to do fun things like clean the oven. Instead, my boss summoned me to work. It was a bike shop shift, which I haven’t gotten many of since October. Getting paid to work on bikes seemed like a more pleasant alternative to huffing oven cleaner fumes.

I have today off to prep the place for the next tenant. I’m going to hide messages of encouragement everywhere so that they can be like, “Awww… but also creepy.”

I AM SO PROUD OF YOU. I JUST WANTED TO TELL YOU IN CASE NO ONE HAS.

Tomorrow, I get my new teeth installed, or, if you prefer, the more regal version: get my teeth crowned. I’ll get to bite into food again, but with much apprehension now that they have a price tag attached to them.

I forgot to bring a fork and knife to work for my leftover pizza, so I had to shred it into small bits with my hands like a raccoon. Nobody else was in the break room while I did this, nor did anyone walk in on me doing this. Otherwise, I would have an obligation to explain that my teeth are plastic, effectively making myself seem more insane than initially suspected.

Besides, when I tell people I have plastic teeth, they probably recall the scene in Dennis the Menace where he breaks Mr. Wilson’s dentures and swaps the front teeth for Chiclets.

The late Walter Matthau as Mr. Wilson grinning. The two front teeth have been swapped for Chiclets.
Or not. This movie wasn’t popular.

In truth, they look normal. Disappointingly ordinary, even. Only when you see me eat will you know something isn’t right.

As for today’s mini Throwback post: My blog posts were more frequent but often less fleshed out, and this one is an example of that.

Continue reading “Naturally creepy. (Plus a mini Throwback blog post from Jan 25, 2012.)”