Joe and I both got guilted into buying a couple of boxes of Girl Scout cookies (I for one am a sucker for stammered unpunctuated soliloquies delivered by kids at my doorstep. Just this week, I donated money to the American Heart Association because some little pudgy kid rang my doorbell and compelled me to--who knows what he really did with the money, but he was cute anyway) and my most embarrassing moment this week was bellowing at Cooper to shut up and stop acting like such a manic every time the doorbell rang...only to find a Girl Scout standing on my welcome mat bearing the Lemon Chalets and Samoas we ordered a few weeks ago. She was wearing a kilt and everything. Probably she's going to report me to Animal Cruelty now. Probably she'll get a badge for it.
So anyway, among other things, this weekend we've been eating some cookies.
We also had a walkthrough at the new house, wherein the current owners (who by the way are super-sweet people, I almost wish they were staying nearby, so that they could watch over us like benevolent godparents) sort of gave us the Owners Guide to the place, what switch turns on what and what kind of filters go where, that kind of thing. The inside of the house is very nice--not that it doesn't need a little updating here and there, but we're in no rush to fill it up with stuff right away, because when you don't have a ton of extra money, that's how The Ikea Room happens. And not that I don't love Ikea (it's a love-hate thing; I'm sure Darren Aronofsky's next film is going to involve being trapped in the underground showroom warehouse of an Ikea on a Saturday morning while mirrored reflections taunt you) but there comes a time in every adult's life when they want a piece of furniture that they don't have to assemble with that little L-shaped thing.
To this end, we are doing a couple of things. One is that we are going to throw out a ton of crap before we move. We've been pretty successful in paring down the non-essentials given the past three moves we've made in the last three years (one a long-distance move, even), but this time, my goal is utter ruthlessness, divorced of sentimentality. Goodbye to you, weird wooden baby peg toy missing half its pegs! If we ever decide to have another baby, we can get him or her a new peg toy! Or better yet, no toys at all, as it will only make the baby weak and frivolous! I will be like Genghis Kahn, only for throwing stuff away, not, you know, conquest.
Secondly, I am employing the assistance of this nice internet lady. We haven't actually ever met, but I have been reading her blog forever, and in the past few years, she's started to branch out into interior design. So anyway, we've chatted, and she's going to help us out with some advice for one particularly troublesome room at the new place--troublesome in that not only is it highly trafficked (it's the family room) but also of all the rooms, it looks the most...tired. (That's a real estate euphemism for "excessively beige and from the 1980's." Also: "full of charm" really means "fascinating in its decrepitude.") Anyway, I'm really excited about this, both for the prospect of brightening up a family room which has so much unachieved potential, but also to work with someone whose design sense I've admired from afar for many, many years. There will be pictures of the house later, of course, before and after, that kind of thing, and it will be fun. But for now, just look at this picture of my fried eggs this morning, that I thought looked like a jellyfish.
Hope you had a good weekend.