The Random Shit They Left Us

Good morning blog friends! Brian and I spent the weekend painting with my second mother (my mom’s best friend who just taught me how to paint a room). She and I also made our way downtown to a very depressing Bears game. And then back for more painting.

This is my backyard. Before it was my backyard. But it's pretty, right?

This is my backyard. Before it was my backyard. But it’s pretty, right?

So as I’m writing this (Sunday night), I’m covered in paint, in dire need of a shower (don’t ask how long it’s been), and beat to hell (is it nap time yet?).

But I really wanted to share this little gem of a story with you. Because I think it’s amusing.

The sellers of our house left us lots of helpful things to get started with our first homeownership adventure. I know that they were thinking of us when they left these things, because they sent a message through the attorneys asking if we wanted them to leave paint and extra fixture-type thingies. (Someone please tell me why EVERYTHING has to go through attorneys and real estate agents instead of just people to people? Because the games of Telephone that we had to play in this whole house-buying process was a giant pain in the ass.) We said “sure.”

Not that we wanted the extra paint in the rooms we would be painting over as soon as possible. But you never know.

So they left cans of paint and stain for the cedar siding. They left light bulbs and extra sticky tiles from the 80’s/90’s. They left bubble wrap and packing boxes. They left a bunch of normal, helpful stuff.
And then they left a whole bunch of random.

Like the brand new, unused skylight flashing dated back to 2004, which would have been PRETTY useful under the skylight that we have to get fixed because it has no flashing and was instead sealed with roofing tar and leaked into our attic/master bathroom (before we bought the house-we knew about it…no money pit here, yet). You know…useful stuff.

Even the curtains, while not really my style at all, are helpful...even if they are getting replaced asap. (By the way, feel free to note the paint color. Next to it is a blue family room and what was a salmon kitchen. Hence the weekend painting.)

Even the curtains, while not really my style at all, are helpful…even if they are getting replaced asap. (By the way, feel free to note the paint color. Next to it is a blue family room and what was a salmon kitchen. Hence the weekend painting.)

Or the insulation paper, which conveniently made the perfect tarp for painting.

painting tarp?

Or the strange yarn/belt/beady thing that I have no idea what it is.

It's like 5 feet long.

It’s like 5 feet long.

Or the magical mystery Ocen Spray cranberry juice bottle filled with some creepy, unlabeled brown liquid.

Juice? Maaaybe not.

Juice? Maaaybe not.

Which I assume is some sort of stain due to the close proximity of other stains and paint.
Paint and things
Which is mostly strange because they labeled fucking everything else. (This was one of Brian’s favorite features of the house. Labeled duct work.)

They also left the piece de resistance next to the bubble wrap in the basement…
Bubble wrap
Can you spot it?
Tighty Whities
Don’t worry, I took a close up. Of the tighty whities. Which I can only assume/hope are clean and were used as a cleaning rag of some sort. Brian and I are fighting over who has to remove them from the basement. I feel like they’re going to stay forever with the current standstill…

Of course, as people move out, they choose to take things with them.

Our sellers took the avocado green clothes dryer (and the washer) – we knew they were taking those. And the shower curtain rod. And the canned goods from the bathroom closet.
Canned goods in the bathroom
And the confederate flag.

I'm not upset that they took that with them. And they did a bangup awesome job of cleaning things up down there. So I'm not complaining. Just musing.

I’m not upset that they took that with them. And they did a bangup awesome job of cleaning things up down there. So I’m not complaining. Just musing.

Blog Friends, have you moved into a new place to discover strange things left behind? What’s the weirdest thing you’ve seen in a house? Have you left strange things behind? Would you do it just to be funny?

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

When in Doubt, Ask for Help and DON’T Back Out of the Parking Garage

So, you may have noticed that I’ve been slacking on the awesome recently. I mean…I shared an e-mail from my boyfriend, a ridiculous picture of myself, and a ranty rant about dress codes last week.  I was beginning to think that I was losing my touch.

But then…Like magic…All of a sudden out of nowhere I have 15 new stories to tell you. But today I will only tell you one. Because I have to save some of this goodness for a rainy day. Or a brain block day. Or a writer’s block day. Or my memoirs. One of those.

So today I’m going to tell you about last night’s adventure.

I met up with a girlfriend of mine for dinner after work. We had a general location in mind, but not an actual restaurant. We were off to Rosemont (a mere blocks away from O’Hare, where I briefly daydreamed of jumping on a plane to New Orleans.) I arrived with the intentions of finding a place for us to dine, and then I would tell her where to meet me. Really, guys, this SEEMED like a logical plan. Considering I didn’t know the area all that well and everything in the area on Yelp seemed super pricy.

Finally, I made my way to an area I used to sort of know a little bit. There was a movie theater and a parking garage the last time I was there, but now it’s full of restaurants and such. Fab! I thought. We’ll eat at one of these places. So I pulled into the parking garage without a second thought.

Until I got to the second level. $13? That’s fucking crazy. But there were 3 lanes. One didn’t have a ticket dispenser. So I followed that one to the third level. Where I was met with a ticket dispenser. $13? Fuck that shit. Fuck that a lot.™

Except that there was a sign that read, “No refunds.”

So what’s a girl to do when she’s on the 3rd level of a very coned off area of a parking garage?

Back the fuck up.

Literally. I backed up. All the way down around the corner to the second level. Then I inched my way toward the original ramp…the one lane, steep-as-shit, one way ramp.

And some cars starting to come up, so I pulled forward a bit to let them through.

When it looked all clear, I thought…OK. Let’s do this thing. And I started backing down slowly on the ramp. Until a car starting pulling up. SHIT! I put the car back into drive and maneuvered my way back up to the second level. I pulled far enough out of the way to let the guy through, but he must have seen my distressed look, so he rolled down his window to get my attention.

And I looked over and this teenage boy, who couldn’t have been more than 19 looks at me with pity and asks if I need help. I told him my dilemma (not that I had backed down from the 3rd level though. That shit was embarrassing) and he said that I just needed to take a ticket and pull through to the exit. What the what? Really? Why didn’t I think of that? And then he told me to double check with the guy in charge by pushing the…wait for it…HELP button.

After following both sets of instructions and confirming that I wouldn’t get charged by the annoyed parking garage guy who answered my call for help…I made my way safely out of the parking lot and into a free parking space.

And for the record, guys, my pal had equally as much difficulty getting to the restaurant…As she past the correct exit, got off the interstate too far north, and kept driving north until I asked her whether the sun was on her left or right and then insisted she turn around immediately.

But we had a delightful meal and a really cool Irish pub. And then I almost accidentally went back into the parking garage. I swear I’m not a complete flake. Usually.

 

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!