Tired of Tile (Respect the Reno)

I am a few weeks out (I think) from having a big ass home renovation started. I love my house (my witches cottage) but so much of it was done by two young men who had no budget and no knowledge of what they were doing. Things are always falling apart, or the wrong things were used (baseboard in the place of crown molding), uneven chair railing with no top piece ...

Anyway, I decided to redo the kitchen which is all dark and done badly. And there's so many boxes of tile stacked everywhere in my living room. By the way, did you know there's purple floor tile available? There isn't anymore because it's all stacked up in my living room. I've been purchasing everything myself because this is my final act, this house, and I want to know what it's like to live in a space untouched by anything but witchy joy.

This blog will soon become a home renovation blog so all are forewarned. 

Practical Magic 2: An Old Witch Speaks

 

SO MANY SPOILERS AHEAD

SERIOUSLY

EVERYTHING IS SPOILED

I hated this movie. I loved the original Practical Magic. The woman were beautiful, the magic of sisterhood and women and craft and midnight margaritas. There were probably faults with that movie but they story was beautiful, the women were all magic and the end when all the town's women come with their brooms to sweep away a man's mess ... glorious.

Practical Magic 2 misfired in every way. The sisters weren't magical. They were bitter, they weren't loving or attached. Sally (S. Bullock's character) hadn't grown. She'd buried two husbands and she closed off her witchcraft. Jilly (N Kidman's character) was just crude with no character at all. She drinks. She fucks. She's such a free spirit. 🤮

Sally has two daughters who don't know they're witches and don't know they're cursed until one says I love you to her perfect (ly bland) boyfriend and he gets hit by a car and goes into a coma.

Okay curse. Daughter runs off to England to break curse. Sally and Jilly follow. They meet a man who is perfect (ly bland) and falls madly in love with Sally (Why? because he's turned on by her constant expression of being constipated). Shit happens. Curse broken.

But what I hated more than anything: the old aunts, Dianne Weist and the always enchanting Stockard Channing are props they kill off. Weist at the very beginning of the movie and Channing at the end. Why? Weist for no reason and Channing to save the bland boyfriend. And by the way: nobody mourns S. Channing. Fuck them. Fuck them to England and back.

Oh it has even more wrong with it. A stupid subplot with a evil (ly bland) relative and the second daughter of Sally's is a doctor who does nothing but at the end there's a nudge nudge wink wink she might be gay (she might not because they didn't have any reason to even add it (and there were no black characters, just saying).

I was dying to see this movie. I hated it. It had no magic. No sisterhood. No community. Everything the original movie had this movie lacks. This is Hollywood at its worst.

And yes, Sandra Bullock is beautiful. But 10,000 close ups of her constipated face (with her wrinkles edited out) was unnecessary and by the end I was actively searching for the Botox injection sites.

Blech. terrible movie. Would not recommend. 

I Knee'd Surgery

 

I went to an Orthopedic appointment because my knees have been crap for over twenty years. Standard appointment. I assumed they'd tell me to lose weight, get injections ... the usual.

What happened: Nurse Practitioner came in and said "girl, you have some of the worst knees we've seen. When do you want surgery?"

So I'm having surgery 5 days after I see Monsta X in concert, in the middle of a total home renovation. And what I never expected: it's an outpatient procedure. Surgery in the am ( 30 - 60 minute surgery). Wake up and get out of bed with a PT monitoring. Go back to bed. Have second round with PT and then go home.

Three weeks of home care. Nurse comes to the house twice a week to check knees and change bandages. PT comes to house three times a week. Then 3 week post op and continuing PT (at the PT center). 

Will wait 3 - 6 months and then get the right knee done. I'm in shock. In joy. In amazement. There might honestly be a future for me without pain. Amazing.

The Kirkenversary

 Sept. 10 is the one year anniversary of Charlie Kirk's death. Right wing media will probably go insane because it's become a meme, a joke, a reason to laugh. My own daughter is sending out Kirkentines to celebrate (like Valentines but says things like: If you're not mine this Kirkenversary, it will be a shot to my neck.)

I like to consider myself a decent person. I care about people, I care about my community. But, I have to admit, I've laughed at some of these. I laugh at all the jokes about when he dies. And I decided that it isn't being morbid and it isn't being cruel. It's just what happens.

When you decide to live your hatred out loud, don't expect to be mourned.

8/21

 My brother became a pirate

standing at the foot of the Matterhorn

a black curtain descended

over one eye

and he put on a patch

said "matey"

and pretended nothing happened

although he'll never see again

My sisters in law

have inconvenient breasts

with cancer

implants

and silicone leaking

like their chests are a/c units

that have sprung a leak.

Nobody tells you

that your body is a cereal box

missing the toy inside

Age is a surprise

lacking the party hats

and stripping you slowly

till there's nothing left

Moving to Decatur, Part 3: Lay Your Ass Down

 

If there's one thing I believe (for myself) a house doesn't feel like a home without a couch. When I moved into my apartment in Hawaii I was miserable until I got a couch. Here, I got a bed and couch before anything else.

The couch was a disaster because I only got half and then they sent too much and I had to return some but look at that baby. Pink, comfy, warm. The rug is super bright and stupid and I love it. So far the only person who loves my choices is my daughter. And me. I love it all.

It's still a disaster. My handyman has worked for three days trying to hang a light fixture in the living room. The original was installed so badly (they all were and they're all getting replaced). The dish washer is leaking, the garage roof was rotted and be careful what you touch because it will probably crumble to dust.

Still ... I'm home  And it feels like home. My stuff from Hawaii will be here next week and once I get my stuff then I'll really be home. I'm still trying to figure out where my K-Pop wall goes ...

Anyway. This weekend should be nothing but snow. I have food. I have blankets. I have gas stove and gas hot water heater. We will survive.

Anyone else hunkering down for the weekend>

Moving to Decatur, Part 2: HOME, WTF, HOME

 

If there's a place that exists between utter disaster and heavenly abode, my house is that place.

The first night we walked into the house and the lights didn't turn on. All that worked was the second bedroom, hall and bathroom lights. We were in the dark, lost and hungry,

Within a short time the flaws of the house became clear. Every improvement done in this house was done by the owner, a young man with a great eye for design but no knowledge of wiring, plumbing or anything else. The bathroom had no caulk anywhere, molding was falling off the walls, the dishwasher leaks, the lights all need replacing ...

So we've been doing things step by step. The bathroom was fixed. My bedroom has a working light. We have put together furniture.

The things I wanted have taken a back seat to the things I need. But we're getting there. Slowly and surely. And the thing is that I know the work we're doing now will benefit me in years to come.

I love this house. It's draining me but I love it.