I <3 Ikea (not to be confused with Huckabees)

I hopped in my trusty Kia today (or "trustier" these days, since Jon and Chuck fixed it up and I don't feel like it's going to explode) and drove to Denton for the second time this week to see Jon's sister, Ginger.* We were on a mission...to go to Ikea. This was my second time in the past week. So much Ikea. Almost too much to handle. Almost.

I was going specifically to get shelves to put above our two windows in the living room. I know it sounds weird--Jon thought so too--but I have full faith that it'll be awesome. Our books are overflowing, and all this potential space will keep my from feeling guilty about buying a boatload of books from the bargain table every time I got to Barnes and Noble (hardcover books for $6! A-mazing!).

$120 and a plate of Swedish meatballs later, I not only got two 70" shelves with "invisible" mounting brackets that slide inside the shelf, but also a hat rack/coat hangar that mounts on the wall, a few teal placemats, curtains, and a curtain rod, and I was set. It was more than I wanted to spend, but I feel good about the stuff I got. It'll make our place seem more homey, which is important to me, knowing that we're going to be here for another 14 months. I also got Ginger some cute finger puppets that she was hesitant to buy because she wasn't sure at what age they'd be appropriate for her baby. I decided that they were something she should have regardless, because they're just so dang cute.

Anyway, it's getting late. I will get some pictures up of the shelves and whatnot when we get them up. I also have a video of the dog that is pretty funny...may get that up soon too.

Later.





*When I was typing this, I accidentally typed "Gonger," which made me lawl.

"My favorite color...is light tan. My favorite animal...is poopies."

Dog updates: I've had Graham now for about 2 months. He's doing fairly well, but he's kind of a butt. We rarely have problems with potty stuff anymore. The last time he peed out of sheer exhaustion/excitement was about three weeks ago.
He does, however, have an issue with authority. He listens to me when we're alone, but not if Jon's there. And he listens to Jon if they're alone, but not if I'm around. He's totally playing us. Yesterday I caught him dragging his blanket from his crate all over the apartment. He looked guilty when I whipped out my camera, but not guilty enough to stop.


When we got him he was about 8 lbs, and now he's around 15. I'm hoping he won't get too much bigger, but he could hit as high as 25 lbs, though his body is built a bit more like a pug, which tends to be smaller than a beagle's (for those of you who don't know, he's a "puggle"--a beagle-pug mix). Both breeds tend to be overeaters though, so we're regulating his food intake so he doesn't become a wheezy fatty.

I guess I'm going to have to whip out those puppy training books I got months and months ago.

Liotta.

I think everything that has happened that has been blog-worthy has happened in the last several days, before I even started this thing.

Several weeks ago, Jon and I went with his sister, Lizzy, to Six Flags Over Texas as part of a work picnic-thingy for where Jon works. Our tickets were only five bucks, which is awesome, because I think they're normally around 45. At any rate, when we went to go eat at the picnic (some barely passable brisket and potato salad that had horseradish in it, which I hate--but that's beside the point), we sat down with a guy named Will who Jon knows from work. Will was there with his wife, and they were both pretty friendly and chatty. Conversation eventually led to Will mentioning he had a band, and then that he did all the instruments. I said, "Oh, so it's a one-man-band?" He said it was, and the only thing he was missing was a singer. Jon mentioned that I sang while I nodded with my mouth full. I swallowed and told Will I could do anything from Amy Lee to Gwen Stefani. He said, "I'm actually looking for a cross between those two."

Will said he'd keep in touch and let me know when a good time was to come over and listen to his music. We finally got to do that this past Friday (Jon was invited too). Will had me listen to the music (quite Evanescence-ey), and then he sang (and apologized for singing) while I followed along with the lyrics. Then we sang together, and then I did it by myself. As I got more confident with the song, I sounded better, and it's looking like I'll be singing and recording in a full-blown studio at least two of his songs.

Did I mention he's trying to get them into a few independent movies?

He said, "But don't get too excited--they has pretty low budgets. One's at 250,000, and the other's at a million. They thought they'd be getting 3 million, but it didn't work out."

Okay, I know that's not a lot of money by Hollywood standards, but I know of quite a few awesome, low-budget films (Napolean Dynamite, Little Miss Sunshine).

Who knows?

Buffalo stew and spider bites.

Yesterday I got off work at two, talked to the leasing office with Jon about re-signing a 14-month lease at our apartment (they'll give us June and July rent-free), and then went home to clean up/organize a bit.

It was kind of a heated subject a few days ago when we were talking about possibly moving. I've been looking at new apartments on my days off for several weeks now, and it's been fairly stressful, because I haven't found anything decent and in our price range. It's either decent and too expensive, or nasty and cheap--neither of which I'm aiming for. Plus our current complex supplies our washer and dryer, which is wonderful.

After my fruitless searching, I came to the conclusion that it'd be in our best interests to stay at our complex, but I wanted to move into a different unit. It'd be the same layout, but instead of having a patio, we'd have a sunroom. This would be ideal, because then I'd have a workspace for my crafts that wasn't on the round and slick dining room table. If you've even sewn long seams on big pieces of fabrics, you'll know that if there's a round edge, your seam is not going to be straight.

Jon was not too keen on moving. He said that if we were going to move, it'd only be worth it if it were a different complex. Yeah, okay, I get that, but I need my space, damnit. He's got all his computer crap in our office, and there's hardly room to breath in there, let alone sew. Anyway...I think he didn't realize how important it was to me. So he figured that if we moved our bed that I could fit a large craft desk in our bedroom and have all my sewing stuff in there. No more clutter in the dining room! I'm okay with that compromise. I wasn't too excited about moving, myself.

Last night, Chuck and Ginger came over and I made Buffalo Stew from a recipe I got at Market Street. You'll be glad to know that no buffalos where harmed in the making of this stew--I used cow instead. It was pretty dang awesome, if I do say so myself.

In other news... My knee randomly started itching and burning today. I lifted up my pant-leg and my knee, and then half-way down my leg were flaming red and swollen. I'm pretty sure it's a spider bite. Awesome.

Time Lord Technology ("It's bigger on the inside!")

I've had a long past few days. Or rather, each day has been long, and they've been in succession?

Thursday I got off work at four, and Christina came and picked me up so we could drive to Frisco and go to Ikea together (that's about a 40 minute drive from Colleyville). She moved into her new apartment all by her lonesome several weeks ago, and she was in dire need of a fancy Swedish desk. I, of course, rarely pass up an opportuinty to go to Ikea, even if I don't need anything. We needed a cheap, industrial-type bookshelf at work anyway, and I offered to pick one up.

So we're at Ikea, and Christina's going nuts over all the cool crap, and after about half an hour has filled up her Ikea-supplied "want" list and asks to commandeer mine. She ended up deciding she would definitely be getting a desk with sawhorse-type legs (I'm jealous--it's awesome). So after a few hours in the showroom, and about twenty of me rolling around in the warehouse on the flatbed with splendidly smooth rollerblade-type wheels, we get my bookcase loaded and are attempting to load the glass desk-top. I pulled my back. Stupid sciatica. It wasn't really bad, but it was bad enough to make me do my stretches and want to avoid lifting the desk-top again.

Hokay! We got some guys to help us load the desk top, they made fun of me, whatever. Then we went to the little cafe, got us some 50 cent hotdogs, and kept an eye on our cart. We started discussing the logistics of getting the desk into Christina's Kia Sprectra (we opted for her car, since it's slightly bigger on the inside than my Rio).

Me: "Now, Christina, you're sure your back seats fold down, right?"

Christina: "Uh huh!"

Me: "Are you positive?"

Christina: "Well, yeah. Doesn't it come standard these days?"

Me: "No..oo... I have a Kia, and mine don't fold down."

Crap.

Yeah... We were going to make it fit. We folded down the front passenger seat. Didn't quite make it. Then we scooted the driver seat as far up as it would go. At one point I was in the backseat wedged underneath the desk-top using my head as a lever and using my foot to help lift at Christina's end. After a bit of grunting and lots of laughing, we finally got it in. We were so proud of ourselves. It was one of those times where it was totally natural and in sync to do a double high-five.

Unfortunately, the driver seat wouldn't go back very far, and Christina's pretty tall. We decided it'd be best for me to drive, and I did--sandwiched between the seat and the steering wheel with about 6 inches of space and my knees up. Oh yeah. I felt like I was in a ginormous go-cart.

When we got back to Christina's apartment, it was the same struggle, but in reverse, to get the desk-top out. And then up the stairs. Fun night.

Needless to say, I felt like I deserved a massage the next day. We'll thank the government for allowing me to afford that. Thank you, G Dubya.