BDKM

It's amazing that time can be absorbed; days so fluid that they run together almost uninterrupted. It becomes difficult to distinguish one day from the other. We roll along, carry on and flow through life, comforted by it's rhythm.

It's equally amazing how time can be suspended.  That one single day can feel like it stretches into eternity; so endless it almost consumes every day before it.  It feels like a million days packed into one.  That day is somehow marked, distinct and significantly different from every other.

Sometimes those two elements collide and create a whirlwind.  That's really how it's felt since my FIL passed away unexpectedly last week.

I can't imagine how it feels to lose a parent. I pray to God that I won't find out for a very, veeeery long time.  I know it's hard. I've watched my husband work through this, helpless to provide any real comfort.  No one can really understand someone else's grief.  It's as unique as a fingerprint; formed from experience and history and the complications of relationships.

My husband grew up in an almost vagabond lifestyle. In extreme poverty, his parents frequently changed jobs. They moved their family every year, sometimes more, into whatever accommodations they could afford (including living in a boxcar).  Most the time, the living room was his "bedroom" - he slept on the couch and his clothes were kept in a basket. He was expected to contribute as soon as he was old enough, which meant beginning odd jobs while he was still in elementary school. 

He reacted to this environment by making it a priority to escape poverty and the struggles that go with it. Every decision in his life has been centered on creating a secure future. Nothing in his life is without thought, planning, or purpose.  One of the reasons I found him so attractive was that he represented to me security and stability - he was strong and solid.

It's such a profoundly different life than his Dad's -  the man who left this world with two fishing poles, a gun and $43 dollars. That's it, that was everything he had. Everything. And that was all he wanted. As long as he could sit on the porch and smoke a cigarette, life was good.

And yet, as different as they were, the most important things my husband learned were taught by his father. To be kind, unselfish, forgiving, patient, and helpful.  To be a good person and live an upright life.

That's something my FIL did well.  Something he taught his son to do well. 

So thank you, BDKM, for teaching your son the important things in life.  You are loved and will be missed but your spirit will be carried forever in those lessons.

The Thunder Rolls

When it rains, it pours. And thunders. And flashes with lightening.

In the last few days we have been absolutely hammered with life issues.  I get that's the way it works, I know life is filled with ups and downs.  But I'm more of a straight line girl. I would rather not have all my down at one time. Can we just kinda spread it out evenly instead of dumping it on me all at once? Is that too hard, life?  Is it? IS IT?

In trying to manage some of this stuff, we orchestrated a kid delivery.  Right before closing husband dropped off a little sickly.  Our first flu victim, she seemed to be holding up remarkably well.  I was gathering up some papers and closing down when she told me she had to go to the bathroom.  So we walk across the hall to the bathroom. Leisurely, with no sense of urgency. When we are two steps away from the toilet when she gets this look on her face. There was no way that look meant anything good. Then she looks up at me, with big shocked eyes, and says "I'm peeing!"

I immediately yank down her pants, swoop her up and throw her on the toilet.  It was all one super speed motion.  Just as I look to see if she peed her panties, I see something plop on the floor.

Poop.

Liquid poop.

Everywhere.

Oh baby girl, that wasn't peeing at all. Bless her heart, she had no idea what had happened.  I think she was as shocked as I was grossed out.  But what do you do?  You muffle down that gag reflex and get to work.  I stripped her down, cleaned her up and managed to discreetly smuggle an almost naked child down to my car.  Because that's how this mommy rolls...

Million Dollar Mystery

I've had a fun and eventful week, which means I haven't had a lot of time to blog. It also means I have a lot to share. But do I want to share tales of excitement? No, of course not. Instead, I would much rather share something totally and utterly embarrassing. And gross.

I went to have some blood work done last week. When they called me back I plopped down in the little chair, threw my arm up and turned away.  As I was pulling my sleeve up I said to the phlebotomist "It doesn't hurt but I can't look. I never can. There's just something about seeing the needle."  As she pricked me she responded that was pretty much the norm. So we had a nice little 10 second exchange and then she was done.

When I felt her pull the needle out I turned to pull down my sleeve. Immediately I saw a thick, dark hair on my arm. It took me a nano second to recognize what it was.

A pubic hair.

I think I audibly gasped.

I'm not certain how it got on my arm. Ewww.

I am certain it was not mine. Double ewww.

I was almost certain it didn't belong to my husband either. A million times ewww.

She was kind enough to pretend she didn't see it. But that didn't make me feel any better.

When I told my husband he tried to convince me it was one of his arm hairs. Ugh, no. It was definitely of the pubic kind.

So the mystery remains:  How long had I been walking around with a foreign pube and where did it come from? 

And do I even really want to know?

Two Cents

I’ve been poking a little bit of fun at Manti Te’o since the story broke about his deceased, nonexistent girlfriend. Nothing vicious, just a few funny pictures and comments. There’s always the possibility that he was duped – there’s always the possibility of anything – and if that’s the case, then you have to feel bad for the guy. But you have to take what you know and ask yourself if any of it makes sense and the answer is no, it doesn’t.

When his Dad told reporters they met after a game – maybe he was wrong. Or maybe the reporter got it wrong. Same thing about the statement his Dad made about this girlfriend visiting Manti in Hawaii. People can get mixed up, right?

What I’m having trouble believing is that this relationship was limited to online chats and phone conversations. So maybe it started out that way but as the relationship evolved neither one of them ever wanted more? They didn’t send pictures to each other? They never progressed to Skype or Facetime? Maybe these two college students weren’t technologically savvy or into any of that stuff. Just maybe.

So he cares deeply enough for this woman to declare her his girlfriend but not deeply enough to ever send a gift? Your sick, dying girlfriend is in the hospital and you don’t send flowers or a card? Or something for her funeral? Even if you’re really good at creating a fake person, I’m pretty sure when flowers arrived at the funeral home for a person who was not deceased it would have caused enough confusion for the florist to contact the sender. But perhaps he’s just not a very good boyfriend.

Even after it all unfolds, we’ll never really know the truth. I think that’s why it’s so fascinating – it’s something most of us can’t understand. We will never know why – why would someone dupe him into falling for an imaginary person? Why would he create such a story? In the end, he’ll forever be known as the victim of an elaborate and cruel joke or the guy who told one of the stupidest lies in sports history.

Either way, you gotta have some sympathy for the guy.

*Okay, so in the days following this post Manti did kinda address the things I mentioned - everytime they skyped her pic was blank and he sent flowers to the house, not the funeral home. So he may not be the most observant guy out there but at least now we know he's good boyfriend material.

Metal Magic

Something weird is going on.

I’ve been getting hit on.

This never happens to me. Ever. And that’s not one of those statements that’s meant to prompt a compliment – it’s just true. I mean, I have been hit on before. Usually towards last call.

The only thing I can think is that it’s the braces.

I don’t know if it’s a brace fetish or just sympathy. But I’m pretty sure that’s it. One guy even said “You look cute in those braces.” Like they were some kind of fashion accessory. Of course, this could have been from lack of skill because he also said “What you doin tonight?” Um, did you just leave the verb out of that sentence?

So yeah, the caliber of these guys is not what I would consider quality. But that’s beside the point – it’s just weird that suddenly I’m getting comments. Like what’s changed besides the 10 pounds I’ve gained?

And just in case you’re wondering - my response to that grammatically incorrect question was “I’ll be with my kids.” The fact that he didn’t anticipate that was going to be my response also demonstrated that he lacked observation skills. Since the kids were with me when he asked.

Ohhh yeah, bring on the winners!

Something Borrowed

We've been spending some time lately getting our newest property ready to rent. We're scheduled to sign the lease this Sunday. Picking a tenant is just like gambling - you bet everything on this one individual and you never know how the dice is going to land. You just cross your fingers and hope you picked the best one.

We've been very, very fortunate to have good tenants.  Until recently.  And having a bad one really, really, really makes you appreciate the good ones.  And as we've been working undoing all the damage on this house it was really obvious to me that there needed to be some kind of tenant education. So here ya go...things every renter should know:

1. If you can't afford the place, don't rent it. That seems perfectly logical to me but you would be surprised by the number of people who appear to not even take cost of rent into consideration. Look, I don't care how much you like the place, if the rent is $800 and you only earn $1000 then this is not the place for you.  Unless you can live without water, heat, electricity, transportation or food.

2. We remember you didn't pay rent, even when we don't hear from you.  Do you remember playing hide and go seek? Picking a hiding spot completely obvious but believing you couldn't be seen because you couldn't see them? That same phenomenon sometimes occurs to tenants - except they believe if they don't call you then you won't notice they didn't send rent.  There is nothing more frightening for a landlord than to not receive rent and to not hear from the tenant - deep down we are scared to death that you've skipped rent and moved out. Even if you have to make up some crazy, ridiculous, obvious excuse for why you don't have rent - call!  We'll appreciate the gesture and maybe even the creativity.

3. It's your home, but not your house. We want you to make this your home, to feel like it's your own special place. And it is, it totally is. But the house you live in does not belong to you. Therefore, there are some basic limitations on what kind of liberties you can take when making this space "your own".  The shrubs you removed cost money and I spent time putting them in.  And I'm sorry you didn't like the lamp post in the yard; I'm even sorrier you took it out. It's okay you removed the bathroom cabinet door; it's not okay that you didn't leave the door behind.  And for the life of me, I can't figure out why you would remove the doorbell...

See, the reality of renting is that you don't get to do whatever you want with this place because at some point I've got to come behind you and fix it.

4. It's not appropriate to let your children, or anybody, throw gum on the carpet. It's just not.

5. We know you lied, we're just not sure why.  Our goal is to maintain our homes in the most cost effective manner that we can. Unfortunately, that means we don't allow animals or smoking. I know you love little Fefe and I understand that you can't get your day started without that nicotine hitting your lungs.  You have every right to have as many dogs as you want and to smoke as often as you like. You just can't do that if you rent a house from us. There are plenty of places that welcome dogs and/or smoking. Find one of those.

6. Clean up after yourselves. Look, it's hard enough for me to clean my own bathroom so imagine the horror of having to clean someone else's filth. Have the decency to at least wipe all the grossness away. I don't want to see your urine spots, poop stains or pubs.  It's gross and makes me puke.

7. Take your crap with you. If there are things you decide you don't want when you move out, there are some simple alternatives to just leaving them in the house: have a garage sale, donate to charity, or bag them up and set them on the curb.  We  have (in my state)  to store whatever you leave behind for 30 days before it's legally considered abandoned. Thirty days. You took off and left your dumpy old furniture behind, most likely thinking we would throw it out for you, saving you the inconvenience of messing with it. In reality, you've just stuck us with a giant piece of trash. Which is exactly what we want to work around as we clean, paint, and recarpet. Thanks, thanks for that.

8. We're not rich. With some exceptions, most people with rental property carry a mortgage. Yes, your rent is higher than the mortgage and we make a profit. But we're not getting rich off your rent. The small profit we make is what we use for maintenance and repairs and to cover the mortgage during vacancies.  The real value of investment properties comes at the end - when the mortgage is paid off or the house is sold. Just because we own houses doesn't mean we're swimming in money.

9. It's cheaper to give you your deposit back than it is to keep it.  Everyone thinks landlords try to do whatever they can to keep the deposit - like greedy little trolls trying to steal your money. For the majority of us that couldn't be further from the truth. See, when you get your deposit back that means the house was clean and undamaged and I spent less of my time cleaning and repairing. You get your money, I get to avoid extra work - everybody is happy.  What you may not realize is that if we keep your deposit, we're actually losing money. 

It cost a landlord money every time someone moves out - there's the lost rent while finding a new tenant, cost of running ads in the paper, and cost of keeping the utilities on.  There is also the cost of prepping for a new tenant - this cost usually comes in the form of time. And every landlord recognizes and accepts those costs - it's part of it.

But when a house is trashed and needs lots of cleaning and repair (and the deposit is kept) the prep work transforms to real cost - buying paint, cleaning/putting in new carpet, replacing damaged doors, putting in new sheet rock, replacing the faucet you broke,  the blinds you bent, and the tile you cracked.  That measly little deposit? Well, it doesn't even begin to cover it. So no, we don't want to keep your deposit.  We just want you to follow these rules and

10. Leave the house exactly how you got it.

I Remember You

So I walked out of the office and saw this guy sitting in the lounge area. He looked like a guy I had met in college and I was debating whether I should say something or just pretend I didn’t see him. Then I realized it wasn’t him. Problem solved.

It made me wonder what happened to him; I haven’t thought about him in years. We had a speech class together and I had a crush on him. I was thrilled when he asked to get together to study. He came over to my apartment and as he was looking around he saw a picture of me and one of my best guy buddies from high school – only a few years before. He picked up the picture, looked at it and said “Wow. You were fat then.” And laughed.

And I was bigger in the picture but not by much – which made me pretty sure he still thought I was fat.

So we start studying. Only we’re not studying. I’m working and he’s distracted, inattentive and impatient - obviously wanting me to do his homework and just give him answers. And he was so dumb. I mean, I couldn’t even have a conversation with him. There was just nothing up there. Nothing.

And when I wouldn’t do the work for him he tried to charm me into it – except he wasn’t that charming.

I’m sure he flirted his way through high school but by the time he left that night, I didn’t even think he was cute anymore.

The next class I had to give my speech and he tried to make silly faces and act goofy during my presentation. I think he thought I would find it funny but really, it was just annoying. I’m not sure what I said, but I remember telling him I thought he was being immature and irritating. I think at that point he knew I was over it.

I wonder if he finished college…and how many girls it took to get him through.

*Since I called him dumb I feel the need to add a disclaimer:  I realize some (a lot) of my posts have typos and spelling errors. This is due to sloppiness, not lack of understanding basic english.  I read some of my previous post and I cringed everytime I caught a mistake.  There was a lot of cringing going on.