Home Depot

Yesterday, Aaron and I used our 10% off coupon for Home Depot to purchase:

  • a 6-foot ladder
  • hedge clippers
  • grass clippers
  • two rakes
  • a shovel
  • lawn soil
  • ryegrass seed
  • a Clorox wet-jet mop

Then we bought two 10-packs of leaf bags at Kroger, and spent an hour and a half raking and bagging leaves. And those were only the ones next to our driveway, on the fence. We now have 12, count ’em, 12 bags of leaves sitting by the curb, waiting for trash day on Tuesday. And we still have quite a bit of other work to accomplish this week… but at least the front yard looks a little more presentable. Aaron has this week off, so he’s planning to do some of it while I’m at work.

I have a hornline rehearsal up in Holly, Michigan today, and I’m supposed to be carpooling up with a friend from Hazel Park (Detroit), but he hasn’t gotten back to me about when to be at his house, or if we’re still even doing it at all. I gotta go call him now, because I’ll need to leave in about a half hour to be there in time, either way we do it.

I don’t wanna drive two hours up and two hours back myself. Ugh.

Landscaping and other randomness

I gave some more thought to landscaping the house today at work, and over lunch I drew our a couple plans for the front flower bed. I was thinking, for anyone into the whole HGTV-ish gardeny landscapey thing, that first we could hack down the overgrown bushes in the front to normal bush size. Then, I plan to mix some purple and some white flowering plants along with some white flowering ground cover, so as not to cover up the windows. I do have some ideas of flowers I’d like to use, like Lavender, Petunias, and Christmas Roses, among others that I haven’t decided on yet. The trick is going to be finding just the look I want, with flowers that like the shade, since it’s beneath an overhang on the north side of the house. I was also hoping to plant some stuff that blooms at different times, so there’ll always be some color out there… but that might be a little beyond my scope. Maybe I’ll save the rotating garden concept for when I tackle a backyard flower garden…

OK, girlie time is over. *whew*

The dude upstairs came home after I got back from my walk this evening (enjoying the weather), and proceeded to turn up his stereo. He doesn’t do it often, but it’s annoying when he does. So, I proceeded to fill my 5-CD changer with stuff—nothing too overbearing, though. Peter Gabriel’s latest, and Catherine Wheel’s last album, and 24 Gone (their only album), and Depeche Mode’s most recent album (I’m seeing a trend), and the Cure Acoustic Hits (which I think was their latest release, too. Weird). It’s turned up a little louder than I would normally keep it, but it’s by no means blasting. Just loud enough to drown out whatever music he decides to turn up every now and then.

That got me to thinking… I kind of miss college, but not really. I miss it in that pleasant nostalgic way, where the memories are fun to look back on (like radio wars, which is how my brain got from there to here). Not the kind of missing where I would want to do it again. Not like drumcorps.

Speaking of… I’ve been practicing more this week, when the upstairs dude isn’t home—more out of a need not to embarrass myself than to be considerate. 🙂 I’ve been getting better, and my relative pitch and pitch memory seems to be returning slowly but surely. The muscle memory is sort of there, but the endurance isn’t. I’ve been practing for about a half hour every day this week, doing a slow warm-up to try to rebuild my range (which wasn’t that stellar to begin with). After I warm up, I have about enough stamina and concentration to play through the warm-up tune once, the ballad twice, and to woodshed the march. Then I’m done, and I warm down with some pedal tones (reeeally low notes).

I’m also recalling why I stopped being a music major: I hate to practice. If I’m going to do this, though, I’ll have to crack down. Senior corps doesn’t coddle like Junior corps—and I can’t believe I can think of it like that now. It was so physically exhausting… but everything was planned out and served to you, from your rehearsals to your meals to your everything. Now, in senior corps, I’m going to have to practice on my own time, and hype for shows and parades on the weekends only. It’s a lot easier when it’s your entire life for three months. I hope I’ve still got what it takes. We’ll see.

And on a final note: On the front of my package of round Avery labels, the generic name on the pictured envelope is Tyler Durden.

“In the ear?! Why’d you have to hit me in the ear?”

New house and old chops

My weekend:

Saturday was house shopping day. We met Rebecca the Realtor at her office at 3:00 and headed off to look at the seven houses on our list. The first one, which we’d initially thought was one of the more promising ones, turned out to be just too damned small. Nice and bright and clean and open, but just too damn small. The other two that we’d thought would be just perfect from the exterior photos and their descriptions were actually the most skanky inside. Nappy carpets, smelly, and generally run-down. There was one tri-level that had some serious potential, though—of course, that house was owned by a cat-lover, and I made friends with the longhair in the cat window-seat. 🙂

The house after the cat-lady’s, though, was almost identical. The owners left music playing for ambience—sounded like something mellowish you’d hear on 94.5. At any rate, I think it helped our opinion of the house. As did the glass-pane door (French door?) down to the finished basement. We liked it so much that Rebecca inadvertently referred to it as “our new house” several times before we were even finished looking at the rest of the houses.

So, after we were done, we ended up going back to Rebecca’s office and making an offer on the house on Ventura. (!!!) After that, we went out to dinner with Kris and Jamie at Ruby Tuesday’s (yummy low-carb cheesecake…), then went home and began agonizing over whether the sellers would accept our offer… Well, not really agonizing, per se… well, not really at all. More contemplating how much more furniture we’re going to need to buy to fill up our new house.

Sunday was my day to drive up to Clawson, Michigan for the LakeShoremen brass rehearsal. Saturday night, I’d crammed for half an hour, getting the notes “under my fingers,” as they say. I hadn’t played in seven years, so I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to read the music as well as I should.

It should have occurred to me that my weakness wouldn’t be my noodley-finger-speed; it would be my unused chops. Like, the actual real chops. As in, my lips. OMFG. After one third of the rehearsal was over, my chops were already gone. I have no range left, very little pitch memory, and I feel like I’m having to start all over again. Like my year in the Bluecoats was someone else.

My lip muscles are so underused (hey, be nice!) that, since I had no endurance, I started shoving the horn into my face. For non-brassers, this is how you are not supposed to combat fatigue, but it’s an automatic habit. After a while, I just started blowing air. I tried to play, but got nothing but air. And I was so pissed off, because I had everything under my fingers… I just couldn’t make it speak.

My lips are still swollen.

So, back to the saga of the house: After rehearsal, I called Aaron on the cell, and he said that Rebecca had given word that the sellers had rejected our offer and made a counteroffer. He told me what the offer was, and I agreed that it was fine with me, so he called Rebecca and she wrote up a new Purchase Agreement. Aaron and I drove up to her office today, separately, to sign the PA and send it on its way.

So, barring a piss-poor home inspection, we (almost) have a house! Next on our agenda is paying the appraisal fee, getting a home inspector, and talking to the Teamster lawyer about coming to the closing with us. The closing will be no later than March 5th (hopefully sooner), and we get possession 30 days after closing. If all the cards play out like they should, we may not even need to ask the Smiths to extend our lease at all.

How about that.

Weekend Shenanigans

What a fascinating weekend I’ve had. Really.

On Saturday, Aaron and I hung out with Kris, then went up to Detroit with Mark to watch a band called Blanche perform at the Magic Stick. The openers were a band called the Waxwings, who weren’t bad, and a solo act (with backup singer/harmonica player) named Brendan Bensen. Also pretty good. I enjoyed his set a lot.

Now, I hadn’t been going to talk about this on my blog, but since the cat’s already out of the bag, I see no harm in repeating what I saw at the show. Mark is a giant fan of the White Stripes, and we’re always geeked when we see Jack and Meg at a Detroit show. They like to support the local scene, especially since a lot of the bands who are growing in popularity are longtime friends of Jack. For instance, members of Blanche were also bandmembers with Jack in Goober and the Peas in the 90’s. Anyway, we were watching Brendan do his gig, and quite enjoying the show. And who should walk up in the crowd next to Mark but Jack White himself! We were pretty excited, and surprized that he’s so much bigger in person than he looks on TV appearances. He looks like a waify dude, but he’s really a decently large fellow, though not quite as tall as Aaron, I don’t think. Anyway, he stayed for a song or so, then left the crowd. We all shrugged and kept watching.

Then, a couple songs later, he came back and beelined for one particular guy in the crowd, who we found out later was Jason from the Von Bondies. As Mark put it when he was explaining the incident on the way home after the show, there’s bad blood between them. Fortunately or unfortunately, I saw most of the incident, though I couldn’t hear it due to my earplugs and our extra-close proximity to the speaker stacks. Jack shouted something into Jason’s ear, they had a brief exchange of words while a young woman (also from the Von Bondies) was poking Jack in the back, trying to calm him down — then Jack White of the White Stripes slugged Jason of the Von Bondies right in the nose. Only show where I’ve witnessed a fistfight firsthand, and it was like freakin’ Celebrity Deathmatch. Jack ended up on top of Jason on the floor, punching his lights out, and it took several people (including one burly bouncer) to break it up. Jason needed help off the floor, and two of his bandmates (I believe) helped him backstage.

So, yeah. Brendan Bensen cut his set short right there and then, and we decided to make ourselves scarce and move to the other side of the crowd. This so that a.) we wouldn’t be shoved into the blood spatters on the floor and b.) so we wouldn’t be questioned about what we saw. Especially since Mark and I saw most of it. Of course, once we got to the other side of the venue, there were a couple weirdos there, too, when Blanche went on — one guy had a giant cardboard cutout of Patrick Swayze’s head strapped to his face, and he had a friend in a satiny gray vest who thought that was absolutely great. Everybody else thought they were both drunken idiots. Strangest show I’ve been to in a long, long time.

That didn’t exactly quench my jones for a concert, either.

Then, today, Aaron and I were cleaning the apartment when Amy called. Anyone who knows Amy or ever met her Grandpa — he died yesterday. They knew he wasn’t in the best health for some time now, but that sort of thing is never expected. You know. I talked with Amy on the phone for probably about half an hour, and asked her to let me know when the service is. If I can’t go, I want to at least send flowers or something. If anyone wants details, I can let you know as soon as I do. Shoot me an e-mail. Grandpa was a great guy with a bizarre sense of humor, and it’s really sad to see him go. It’s also sad that the memorial is going to be more of a soap-opera/three-ring circus with the various family members who hate each other and such. Poor Amy.

So, yeah. Bizarreness all around this weekend. Mark’s hero tarnished, Amy’s Grandpa gone, and our house actually clean. Probably blasphemous to put those three occurrences together in the same sentence, but hey. It’s me.