Past Due, Day 15, Thursday- Last Minute Preparations

We pulled up old carpet, worked on old stove pipes, and did all those little things that you put off until the last minute. I'm tired, the kids are covered in paint, and the wife is passed out.

We are still moving on Saturday, if you are bored, please feel free to come by and help. We would totally appreciate it.

The blog will also come to (mostly) an end tomorrow. I did this for the wife so she could get an idea of what I do over at these houses when she isn't around. She doesn't care about nuts and bolts, she just needs a laugh or two after dealing with the kids all day. She'll be there now, so there isn't really a point in doing this anymore. I'll find some other way to annoy her.

Go read her blog, she has things to say that don't involve exploding cans, displaced indians, or pooping.

Total costs: $2,500

Past Due, Day 14, Wednesday- Some things will have to wait.

Things that will not be dealt with until after the move.

This is upstairs "bedroom." I convinced the wife to let us move into the boy's room until I can fix it up a bit.

The second floor, after it has been cleaned up a bit.

More of the second floor.

The basement / indoor winter swimming pool. It has been a lot better since I rewired the sump. I'm crossing my fingers that it stays somewhat drier now.

More of the basement. This is all the former owner's stuff. He'll be coming after it next week.

Total costs: $2,500

Past Due, Day 13, Tuesday- Fire Meeting

I went to fire training tonight. We all sat in a classroom and watched a video tape on taking care of sick people. It was a class on how to diagnose stupid assholes that either don’t want to wait in the emergency room, or were too busy watching television to be bothered with dragging their lazy ass to the doctor.

I do not do well with people who can not be bothered to take care of themselves, or who expect the world to respond to their every problem. Want to be 500 pounds? Fine, just expect to have health problems. Upset at mommy and daddy? Find another way to express it.

I have no problem helping those that need it. I do have a problem in other areas- I tend to say exactly what I think without filtering it. Case in point:

At my old department we had a bariatric ambulance available. It was equipped with a special gurney and a modified load system. (In English, it was an ambulance just for fat bastards. It had a queen-sized gurney and a ramp system and a wench to pull the morbidly obese into this truck.)

I got in trouble for referring to it over the radio as the “fatty caddy.” As in, “we have a big one here, cancel the ambulance and send the fatty caddy.” The 450-pound guy we were working on (who was recovering from choking on food) did not like that at all. Neither did my battalion chief

A month later, I got in trouble again for giving a person with frequent (two in one month) half-assed suicide attempts advice on how to do it properly. In my defense, it was 2 in the morning, snowing, and she was mad at daddy for not getting her a car.

So yeah, I need to work on my verbal filter. A number of people, however, need to learn rule number two.

Total costs: $2,500

Past Due, Day 12, Monday- Just Paint

I am officially winding down. The first part of the remodel is about finished, and we will move on Saturday- (Please feel free to come by and help). Spent a lot of time painting trim in the boy’s room.

I finally replaced the broken window as well- there was no sense in replacing it earlier, I’d just get paint all over it. No more broken glass (until the next storm.) Tape will come off tomorrow.

I had a nice dinner of cottage cheese with fresh blackberries. Yep, cottage cheese. Some say that isn’t a manly meal. I argue that it is in fact, one of the manliest things you can eat; if by manly, you mean nasty and slightly dangerous (like old pizza.)

Basically, it is really rotten old milk. Really. Heat milk to 86 degrees, add buttermilk and keep it warm for twelve hours. Cut up the chucks that form, then heat it up to 102 degrees for about an hour and a half. You know, to make it nastier. Bacteria loves temperatures below 120.

Woman food indeed. If women knew how it was made, most of them wouldn’t touch it.

Total costs: $2,500

Past Due, Day 11, Sunday- An Odd Vibe

I went out this morning before the Sunday Market got started to get a cup of good coffee at the Rusty Cup.

I thought tourist season was just about over. I was wrong, as they were everywhere. So, while you are all welcome here (please bring cash and come visit), I have a couple of suggestions to you nice people that bring us money that will make us not hate you.

• If someone is in the crosswalk, keep your car out of it.
• If there is a stop sign, stop. If not, go. It is really pretty simple, and only requires that you pay attention.
• There is nowhere in Clatsop County that is so cool that you need to drive like such a dick.
• Hang up the stupid cell phone and control your brats.
  
• Hang up the stupid cell phone and drive.
• Hang up the stupid cell phone and try not to take up the entire sidewalk, you oblivious, self-absorbed boob.
• You know what? Turn the damn cell phone off and lock it in your glove box. You can have it back when you get home, or if there is an emergency.
  
• I really do not like your little rat dog. I really do not like your little rat dog barking at me from your car, startling me when I am just trying to get some coffee.
• I will stand next to your car and watch the inbred little rat dog beats itself nearly unconscious on the window in an effort to get to me. I will then laugh in an evil manner.
• Going the wrong way down a one-way street just makes me think you are an idiot. If you wave and smile, I will revise that to asshole idiot. You screwed up. Stop your car, get out, and let someone that can read drive.
• The yellow line tells us where the lanes are. We each get one- so stay in yours. If you think the houses are pretty, great. Get you fat ass out of the SUV and walk around. You'll get exercise, you’ll see more, and I get to go to the store without risk of a head-on collision.
• If you weight 300+ pounds, the Custard King is probably not your best bet. If your bathroom scale is to small to register your weight, use the chair for a guide. If you need to smear butter on your fat ass to wedge that mountain of flesh into the poor seat, go somewhere else. There was a family of fat bastards out front, posing like Tony Soprano’s crew in front of the meat market. Except that it looked more like “before” picture for Jenny Craig than a bunch of made guys.
• Going to the Bowpicker? Great. It is either a half order or a whole order. Don’t ask for a burger, the damn place is in a converted boat. That is kind of a clue- they sell fish and chips. I am sick of having my taste of heaven delayed because I have to stand behind some illiterate ass while he sounds out the menu.
• Never ask for ranch dressing with your fish. You want to eat garbage? Go to McDonalds.
• I have no problem giving you directions. However, if you call me “Buddy,” “Pal,” or are rude, I’m going to send you on a little trip that will get you to your destination by way of both the new and old Young’s Bay Bridges and possibly Jewel.
• There are a ton of restaurants here in Astoria. Guess what? They pretty much all serve fish, and they’re all pretty good. Just pick one, chances are you’ll do fine. This is a small town, if the food sucks, they usually don’t make it through the winter.

Usually the people don’t bother me, but today they obviously did. I was a little out of sorts. The universe seemed off-kilter.

I dodged the tourists, got my coffee, and went home to watch football. The Rams beat Denver because of, instead of in spite of, their defense. No touchdowns for the Rams. Not only that, but some guy in a Rams uniform was actually running the ball. A lot.

It was really weird not seeing Tory Holt dancing around the end zone. It was also sad to not see number 28.

Then the day got really strange- the kids let me watch the game in relative peace and quiet.

We all went to the house and worked. The kids behaved. The wife painted what she was asked to paint. She didn’t even make any paint goobers. Awesome, but shocking.

I painted two rooms in one afternoon. No emergencies, no trips to the hardware store. The boy’s room and the dining room are both new colors. Cool, but what the hell?

There was no blood spilled while working today. Not even a scratch. Even the wife avoided causing me bodily harm.

I used the bathroom in the house. It did not rock or leak. It sounds minor, but this is huge.

I hung a door, and the hinges lined up.

All told, I could get used to this.

Total costs: $2,500

Past Due, Day 10, Saturday- Bathroom, Check.

I started my day by being molested in my sleep by my wife. Women need to learn that if people are asleep, they simply can not give consent. As a result of her actions, her punishment is that she has to do that again everyday for (at least) the next two weeks. I'll set her alarm clock.

I finished my day by finishing the damn bathroom. I went through plumbing hell (Christ was a carpenter, Satan was a plumber.) I visited City Lumber four times. You know what?

The bathroom is done. Finished. This is what it looks like.

From the doorway. The sink was a nightmare to install.

View from the tub. Towel rods are a tremendous pain in the ass to put up.

The bathtub area- note the shelves and soap dish

The non-urinal with a pretty handle.

That would be, as they say, that. So, what did my wife say when she saw this room?

"Wow. This is the best bathroom I've ever had." Then she paused. She looked a bit more. Then, she smiled and said, "do you know how I know you're gay? This room. Straight people can't do stuff like this. You're so gay you should have a show on HGTV."

That's fine. She still needs to complete her sentence, the alarm clock is still set.

Total costs: $2,480