I’ve got all my ‘after’ pics in the kitchen album. For dramatic purposes, though, I just wanted to post the pics side by side. Enjoy!
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Author: akaemi
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ode to transfats
I know that transfats are evil and unnatural, but I really kinda miss them.
Junk food just isn’t the same without transfats. I know that other fats have risen to the challenge to take the place of my dearly departed transfats, but they don’t quite do the job. Doritos, oreos, microwave popcorn and mcdonald’s french fries have suddenly become lacking. There’s something slightly different about the flavors, the textures – and there is certainly something different about the addictive qualities.
I can’t eat a whole bag of microwave popcorn anymore. I get bored with doritos before I get anywhere close to half the bag. Oreos? 2 or 3 will do it. And PLEASE get me a bucket of ketchup if you expect me to eat all the fries in my happy meal.
The death of transfats means that junk food has risen right to the top of my food pyramid, where I guess it shoulda been all along. Goodbye, transfats. Now if they could just do something about high fructose corn syrup, maybe I could kick all my food vices …
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a beautiful house
As I was walking downstairs this morning, in my big white fluffy robe, I saw my living room and thought, what a nice house! And the feeling continued as I actually got to the main level and was able to see the dining room and kitchen.
I know it’s my house, and I see it every day, but it’s so nice to love the place I live – and for it to feel like home.
Since leaving home for college, this is the longest I have ever lived in the same place. This is the longest I have ever gone without packing all my stuff up and moving somewhere new. I was worried that I would start to get restless, that I would get the itch to move on – but I am finding it’s actually kind of nice to put down some roots.
I know my neighbors! Not all of them, but quite a few. When you plan to live somewhere longer than your 6 or 12 month lease, there’s actually some incentive to chat with the neighbors. There’s the possibility that you could be seeing them for years – and there’s the possibility that these could be life-long friendships.
I have pictures hanging on the walls! I have never decorated the walls of the places I have lived in. The one apartment that I lived in all by myself, no roommates, I didn’t put a single nail in the wall. It was a most barren place. I didn’t actually hang the pictures on the walls myself – my husband’s mother helped me out with that – but I really like having artwork on the walls. I especially love the picture hanging above the couch, it’s the first thing I see when coming downstairs in the morning. I know my husband doesn’t get it – or its price tag (it really was quite a steal, I could have spent $$$$ on artwork that big) – but I love it.
I have matching furniture! The living room has a matching recliner, sofa, and chair. The end tables match the coffee table. The dining room actually has a table in it! I really feel like an adult now – the college days of mismatched goodwill goods are behind me, as well as the newly married merging of random furniture days. Most all the furniture in the house was purchased after we got married – and the few pieces left, we are itching to get rid of.
Our house still needs work – I would love to get rid of the popcorn ceilings upstairs, and there is some stenciling and wallpaper bordering that needs to go – but that doesn’t mean I don’t love my house. It’s my house – it’s a work in progress – and it’s beautiful.
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granite countertops
The kitchen is coming along swimmingly! My husband is stressed because everything is a mess – and we can’t watch tv in the living room due to a dining room table being between the couch and the tv. Which means we have to watch tv upstairs, without the benefit of a tivo. Which means we actually have to watch shows when they come on! And with commercials. It’s quite a sacrifice, but I think maybe we can tough it out for a few more days.
In my attempt to converse with the tile guy who doesn’t know much english, I think I may have told him to work 10 hours tomorrow. 🙁 That really wasn’t my intent – I just wanted to know how much longer it was going to take. I really don’t care if it takes 2 more days or 4 more days, I was just curious. I think he asked me how long he could stay tomorrow, he pointed to his watch and suggested 5 or 6, and I said 5, to try to minimize stranger-in-the-house-stress on my husband. Then I think he asked how early he could come, and I said 7 was fine, we’re both out of the house by then. He seemed very happy about the prospect of coming at 7, so I hope that means he’s excited at the prospect of being able to leave at 3.
The countertop guy is coming tomorrow, to give me a quote on new countertops. Which means I should probably decide on a color. I’m the most useless girl on the planet, I have no eye for color whatsoever. (Back on the west coast, my interior-design-degreed mother is wondering where she went wrong …)
I have another dilemma, with the lighting in the kitchen. Santana suggested recessed lighting, which I think will look really nice. ($$$Resale Value$$$) The problem is, is that recessed lighting is not as bright as the existing 2-tube flourescent light fixture we have in the kitchen now. The flourescent light fixture that my husband LOVES. Because it is so bright. I found a picture at homedepot.com of a kitchen with a flourescent light, as well as recessed lighting, so I’ll see if Santana will do that. I just got back from a trip to the real home depot, where I found the flourescent light fixture that I hate the least. It turns out, I hate all light fixtures. A lot. I think they are all ugly. Why can’t someone make nice light fixtures? Maybe THAT will be my new job. Light fixture designer …
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guess what!
I’m getting a new kitchen! At least, I’m getting as much of a new kitchen as my tax return will buy. At this very moment, iPhoto on my mac mini is uploading the pics I took of my ‘before’ kitchen up to my gallery – and you will get to see the very … interesting … decorating choices that were made by the previous owners. Actually, you won’t get to see ALL the choices. The matching curtains and canisters have long since met their maker.
Day one of the renovation is over, and the wallpaper is GONE!! The linoleum with the little bitty flowers is hidden forever under a layer of those concrete-tile-base things. (If I woulda known they were just putting everything OVER the linoleum, I totally woulda mopped. There’s a gross sticky coke spill that has now been immortalized …)
The bad thing about the renovations, is that we have to lock the kitties up. And they hate being locked up. Especially when there are evil creatures banging about in the kitchen. We both stayed home today and discovered that Havok seems to have discovered how to remove slats from the basement utility room door – so we have decided to lock the kitties up tomorrow in the master suite, upstairs. I’m not entirely thrilled about having a litter box in our master bathroom, but I am even less thrilled about the idea of our kitties running out the open front door to escape from the evil kitchen-mongers. So there will be a litter box in my master bathroom tomorrow … even though I am sure Forge will prefer the bathroom sink. (He’s a sensitive pooper. sigh.)
But the GREAT thing about the renovations, is that I will soon have a new kitchen! At the end of this week, I will have beautiful tile floors and wonderfully clean, freshly painted walls. And did I mention crown molding? And NO hideous frou-frou ceiling fan ceiling dilly bob. And then will come the new appliances. And – if there is money left over – we will get new countertops. And THEN I am going to take up cooking and entertaining in my new kitchen. Ok, so maybe not that last thing …
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dairy queen
I love Dairy Queen. It always bring back such good memories. From my childhood, when my dad used to take me to out for special Dilly Bar treats. From my teenage years, when it was the best fast-food hangout on Saturday nights. From my college intern years, when all the interns used to sneak out for DQ breaks. And more recently: my husband knows dinner and dessert at Dairy Queen never fails to put me in a good mood.
Dairy Queen was where I was first introduced to the idea of gravy with chicken strips. (I still don’t like it.) It’s where I fell in love with chocolate covered ice cream, hot fudge sundaes and peanut buster parfaits. It’s where my husband and I shared our first spoon. It’s where I steal my tartar sauce. And, recently, it’s where I discovered the new choco cherry love blizzard.
It’s my new favorite! It’s like chocolate covered cherries – as a blizzard. You can’t get better than that! One of the world’s best candies combined with the best use of milk on the planet.
Dairy Queen. What will they think of next?
$663! My husband was a little scared when I told him the good news, but he sometimes forgets that I am a world-class bargain shopper. (For real. I have trophies.)
And just how much did I have to spend to save so much money? Half as much as I saved. (Ok, ok, half as much as I saved plus $10.) That’s right, by waiting 2 months to buy my leather jacket, I was able to get 3 turtlenecks, 4 sweaters, a pair of slacks, a pair of jeans, 3 pairs of khaki-jeans, a hoodie, a bathrobe, a tote bag, AND that leather jacket, for the original price of the jacket.
I love 75% off January! Mostly because I like a good bargain, but also because I love jackets, sweaters, and boots. And I would be broke if I paid full price for everything in my jacket-sweater-boot closet. Which, consequently, now has more room in it since I moved those pesky trophies to my new trophy room …
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is that a … pickle?
I love buffets. Not because I eat a lot – in fact, I am incapable of eating a whole lot in one sitting. But the great thing about buffets, is that you can eat whatever you want. There’s no entree, 2 sides and a roll rule. There’s no salad first, dessert last rule. The only rule is get a clean plate every time around. And THAT’s a rule I can follow.
The other morning, I found myself at Shoney’s for breakfast. Intrigued by the promise of a buffet on the menu, my husband snuck over to check it out while the waitress was getting our drinks. He reported back that it had everything: biscuits, gravy, sausage, bacon, potatoes. When he couldn’t give me details on the fruit and cold cereal selection, I had to make my own not-so-covert run. I didn’t see any cereal (one of my four basic food groups), but there were enough other tasty food items to satisfy my needs, so we signed up for two buffets when our drinks arrived.
And so it was, on my second plate, that my husband stopped mid-sentence and asked, “Is that a pickle?!” I had to concede that it was, in fact, a half-eaten pickle I was holding in my hand. He then proceeded to tell me that red jello, pickles, cucumber slices, cinnamon apples and french toast sticks was not a good breakfast. I agreed, and said it was a good thing I had a strawberry shortcake and potatoes on my first go round …
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tartar sauce
The other night, at Dairy Queen, I stole 4 packets of tartar sauce.
Now, it’s not about the money. I can afford tartar sauce. I just never seem to be able to remember to buy it when I’m at the grocery store. And when I eat my fish-sticks-frozen-dinners, it really makes me sad when I don’t have any tartar sauce. You might wonder how I can remember to buy fish sticks, but not tartar sauce – it’s because the condiments aisle comes way before the frozen foods aisle.
So, anyway, the other night, I found myself at Dairy Queen, waiting for a fish sandwich, a basket of chicken strips, and 2 blizzards – and I saw a bin of tartar sauce packets. I was ordering a fish sandwich, so I figured I had good cover – even though the sandwich comes with plenty of tartar sauce already. I donated a quarter to the leukemia kid, and then I pocketed me some tartar sauce.
As we speak, I’ve got a fish-sticks-frozen-dinner cooking in the oven. And I am looking forward to enjoying the first of my stolen goods.
Thanks to a generous gift from my husband’s grandfather, I am now the proud owner of my very own cowgirl pants. The generous gift being cash, not the actual garment.
I grew up in Washington state (NOT cowgirl country), so I was unaware until very recently that there was such a thing as cowgirl pants. When I pressed the issue with my husband (born and raised in Texas, very much cowgirl country), all he could come up with was, ‘Tight. Real tight.’
When we got married a few years back, I bought myself a cowgirl hat. A shapeable, black-and-gray mottled number, accented with turquoise bits. It’s perhaps a little flashy, but it tickled me, so it joined my collection of hats I never wear.
A few months ago, I found a cowboy store in Frederick, MD, because my husband decided he needed a new cowboy hat. He didn’t find anything he liked, but I sure did. I found my very first cowgirl shirt! It’s a completely impractical rhinestoned-handwash-only piece, but it really is quite becoming. And since my husband didn’t find anything he liked, I had to buy something to make the trip worthwhile. I’m pretty sure that’s the law.
And that’s when I found out about cowgirl pants. My husband informed me that none of my jeans cut the mustard as cowgirl pants. When he couldn’t explain what, exactly that meant, I gave up all hope of ever finding any.
Until I found myself in Texas with $100 (thanks Danny!) burning a hole in my pocket, and in close proximity to all kinds of western wear stores.
And so I tried on all kinds of jeans, all the while with my husband saying, ‘No …. tighter …’ I finally found the perfectly tight pair (I’m pretty sure I can only wear them on skinny days). And then, of course, I needed some authentic boots. And also, I was informed, a rhinestone belt. The first belt I fell in love with was $85, so I quickly fell out of love, and found a … cheaper option.
Now, my outfit is complete. Someone find me a rodeo!