Mission: Sofa

Upon rearranging the living room furniture this weekend, we discovered that our living room is too small. That is, we rediscovered it. Our tiny space was packed with a couch, loveseat, giant chair, piano, and no fewer than five other pieces.

We shoved furniture to and fro, stacking tables in corners and covering vents with chairs. Eventually, after throwing up my hands in frustration, I came to the conclusion that the room is not too small, we simply have too much furniture. So we threw out the couch.

Well, we didn't exactly throw it out; we chucked it in the carport, grabbed a cushion, and headed to the used furniture store. After mulling the used furniture options (and liking none of them), we wandered the new furniture section, where we proceeded to fall in love with the following:

(No worries. It's not leather.)

Thus began Mission: Sofa. Here's the deal: Long's Landing committed to giving us $200 trade-in credit for our current three piece set. That still leaves us $900 short of owning the couch of our dreams. This being move-out week in Bloomington, we're planning to collect enough furniture from sidewalks and dumpsters to fund this two-toned leisure center.

If anyone has a couch to donate to the cause, let me know.

Collecting Vinyl

Sunflower, in collaboration with her father, got me a record player yesterday. I think it's because at some point I said, "You know, it's a good thing I don't have a record player, because I'd have to spend all my money collecting indie records." And I'm pretty sure I said that because I took an online quiz several months back.

I am an indie snob!



How indie are you? test by ridethefader

You're just too cool for school, aren't you? You're pretty narrow minded
and opinionated with regards to music (and probably most other things
as well). But you're allowed to be, because you really are better
than everyone else. You take pride in obscurity.
You probably prefer vinyl too, you elitist bitch.


I don't think of myself as narrow minded re: music, but I'm probably not the best judge. I certainly have no problem being an elitist bitch, though.

And now the vinyl collection begins. Several records have already been donated to the cause, notably the classic rockings of The Who, Warren Zevon, and Neil Young. Sunflower also got the indie stone rolling with a few of my favorites: The Crane Wife by The Decemberists, I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning by Bright Eyes, and The Postal Service's Give Up.

(By the way, someone tell the cocks at the RIAA that downloading these albums has directly resulted in real-money purchases of them.)

I recall a couple of J's friends (Teeny and Josh, I think) picking out some choice grooves at a place on Hawthorne. Does anyone else out there in the webosphere still buy vinyl?

Meet Meringue

As in Lemon. After many an discussion of sinking $700 into a $500 car, we decided it would be best to simply drive around and look for cheap used cars in parking lots. That plan worked better than I would have thought.

For $200, we picked up this beast. The brakes need work, there's no coolant, the fender is... not straight. But she's got six cylinders under the hood, half a tank of gas (hey, that's 20 bucks right there!), and she starts right up. The cavernous trunk even included a spare tire and a tiny broom. For tiny witches.

I'm pretty sure my parents have never bought a new car in their lives. Consequently, neither have I. The Cavalier, the BMW, the Saab, the Cabriolet, the Westfalia: all used. Maybe it's because new cars start at around $12,000, solidly twice what I've paid for my most expensive automobile. I suspect, though, it's because taking a several thousand dollar hit in value just for rolling it off the lot doesn't mesh with my old-man sensibilities. (Why eat mashed potatoes at the buffet? They're only 30 cents a pound.) Then again, I sold my last car for 13% of what I paid. That was the real lemon.

Oh, Bloody Hail

It hailed today. It was a very strange day for weather. It was mostly dark and rainy all day. When I got home, it was warm and the sun was peeking through some clouds. Not twenty minutes later, the hailstorm moved in abruptly, dumped frozen balls of water for three minutes, and was gone. Now, blue skies cover most of the view.

I've never stood in a hailstorm before. Well, before today. In the interest of science, I stepped into the yard and took the brunt of the storm on my head. My suggestion: don't do that. Instead, follow the instructions of pamphlets everywhere and seek shelter immediately.

Cube Farm

I'm moving into my new "office" today. I use quotations because my "office" has only two walls. It's a cubicle in disguise. Sure it's got natural light through the window behind me, but you can't actually see out. The window is a tease, taunting me with sweet warming rays, but remaining opaque enough to deprive me of listlessly staring at the world.

I've got two desks, and my back to the corner so I can see ninjas approach. I've got two monitors (for those of you keeping score at home, that's one fewer than I had before.) I've got 36 square feet of space. But that's about a third of my previous stretch-out room. I mean, I can't even park my bike.

Funny, I remember all this happening before. A great case of deja vu. The year was 2002, the scene: Kiva Networking. (Cue flashback.) As part of a round of cutbacks, my office slipped away, and in its place came four foot high gray slabs of cloth paneling. New neighbors, more noise, less money. I don't foresee the same bad-movie ending, but then again, those who don't understand history are doomed to repeat it. Just ask the president...