BulgingButtons

Not bad for a fat girl

Category Archives: Other Thoughts


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So Relieved It’s Not Just Me

untitledI always think that I’m the only one who does things that are less than smooth, although I know that isn’t the case. Still, when someone I admire messes up, it kind of makes me do a little happy dance. Not big mess ups, mind you, I’m not like that. It’s just the little flubs that happen to everyone from time to time that put a smile on my face.

Hopefully it’s not because I’m a real jerk, although it might be. I don’t think so, though. I think it’s because those little goof ups remind me that I’m not alone in my imperfection. Naturally I knew this, but somehow these little reminders from time to time help me keep my own mess ups in perspective.

You see, I don’t think anything less of my friends and colleagues when they have little lapses in common sense, but I do tend to get down on myself. I mentally scold myself for being clumsy, or forgetful, or hasty, or what have you. Would I do that to my friends? Never! Instead,  I try to help them laugh off the moment. Or I drink wine with them.

Huh?

Well, yes. Sometimes when you mess up the best thing to do is to have a glass of wine. It was tonight.

Let me explain. Tonight I went to a friend’s for dinner. There were five of us in all, and when I arrived the other four were standing on the driveway. “What a warm reception,” I thought to myself. I was wrong.

Sure, I was welcomed warmly, but the group was outside because the hostess managed to lock herself out as she was sweeping the porch in preparation for our arrival. Oops. Naturally her phone was inside and her husband was out of town. So was her neighbor with the spare key.  Uh oh.

The locksmith was stuck in traffic, it was a beautiful evening, and a kind neighbor (who earlier tried to pick the lock… what?) brought over a corkscrew and some plastic cups.  Off to the back patio we went, bottles of wine in hand (who goes to a friend’s for dinner without wine?). It ended up being a lovely cocktail hour and after we got inside, a lovely dinner.

My friend handled the situation with grace, and a laugh. What else can you do? Beat yourself up over a simple mistake? But that’s what we do to ourselves. We could all relax a little,  sit back with our glass of wine and take a deep breath as remember that after all, we’re only human.


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May Mantra – Sell This House

Good Morning Swiffer. Hello vacuum. How are you this beautiful Saturday, duster? I feel like these implements have become my dear friends. Friends that I would like to take a break from. It’s not that they aren’t helpful, it’s just that we’ve been seeing a little too much of each other lately.

As of today many people have walked through my house, deciding whether or not to make it their new home. So far they have all decided not to. There is someone, however, who is on the fence. Their realtor called to schedule a second look. They are narrowing down their options. Apparently their concern is not the construction project across the street (over which I have no control) but the small size of the yard (over which I have no control).71YXfpXt8vL._SL1500_

The realtor told me the client is downsizing. Perfect. A small yard with no upkeep should be just the ticket. There’s room in front for puttering if they want to put in more plants, and they can container garden like crazy in the back. I wonder if the flowers were there the first time they came through. They look great now. Maybe that will inspire them.

It’s too bad that my umbrella broke. One afternoon while we were at work the wind picked it up and smashed it against the wall. At least it didn’t leave a gouge. The umbrella provides some much-needed shade and a pop of color. My mother is adamant that I replace it immediately. Should I?

This is what I do. I obsess about things which may or may not make any difference at all. In a perfect world a person should scout out the neighborhood, then walk through a house, to get a sense of the floor plan and amount of space it offers. They should carefully observe what types of updates and repairs the property might need.  They should ignore things like current furnishing, wall colors, decor, and the like. They don’t. Most people see what they see, and if it looks pretty they’ll like it, but if it doesn’t they can’t see past it.

This accounts for my obsessing over the tiny details that I can control, since there are big things that I can’t control. So off I go, to Swiffer and vacuum and dust, and to replace my broken umbrella, so the tiny backyard looks like the desert oasis it is.


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My Home, My Showcase

My house went on the market on February 21. Today is May 8. It feels like eternity. It isn’t of course, but the amount of extra stuff that we have to do to make it look like a showroom is getting to be a drag. Actually it was a drag from the beginning, since I really don’t like housework.

Maybe it stems back to my first regular paying job outside of babysitting. I cleaned house for a neighbor around the corner, whose son happened to be in my class. I went over every Monday after school for the duration of my junior and senior  years and cleaned. Each week I thoroughly cleaned  the bathrooms, then alternated between cleaning the upstairs and downstairs. Every once in a while my neighbor would have me work in the basement rec room instead.

It may have been the easiest cleaning job ever, since I’m positive the woman I worked for cleaned before I got there. Still, I did everything I was supposed to do. After she was gracious about me ruining her bath mat on my very first day (needless to say I learned how to properly handle bleach after that), I knew that I owed her nothing less than my best effort.That house was immaculate. Mine is not.

When you clean a house thoroughly you get to know it intimately. You know where the tile is uneven, where the paint is scuffed, and where the chrome on the edge of the medicine cabinet is discolored. In the two years I’ve lived here, I’ve gotten to know this house pretty well, mostly over the past two months.

In an effort to combat the construction across the street, I’ve done my best to “stage” my house and yard. I want people to imagine themselves living here. I want them to picture themselves sitting by the pool enjoying a margarita, or baking a pie in the kitchen. I want it to feel like home.

I’m not sure I’ve accomplished my goal or not, but I do like my little touches. I just wish I didn’t feel like I need them anymore.