Kate Can Cook

I’ve been away too long. A few comments on some old posts asked about how my Home Reserve furniture had been holding up.

Here’s the answer: I don’t know because it’s gone.

We had the furniture for about 6 months. It held up great and still looked about the same when we got rid of it. At the time, I wanted to keep the chair, but it would just not go with our new Ikea furniture.

We got rid of it mainly because of the couch. It was comfortable — enough so even for people who slept on it — but it was just not deep enough. I constantly felt like I was sitting on the edge, even though I wasn’t. You definitely need an ottoman to make it worth it. This would be GREAT, however, for a dorm, kid’s room, or other “play room” where you have other options or price is the #1 concern. However, for us, it was our only couch and it had to function as occasional bed and constant TV-viewing seat.

The chair, however, I loved. I thought it was the perfect size and comfort level and I LOVED the pattern. I still sort of miss it and think wistfully back to the days that Dylan and I would sink into its cushy-ness.

Overall, I give the chair an A+ and I think it would have held up for MUCH longer than 6 months had we given it the chance. The couch was just not right for us. I hope that helps.

Jazz and I closed on our house on Monday. It went really, really smoothly. We went to our bank to get our large check, then found out our check was too large and we got money BACK! Seriously! It took a little more than an hour to sign the next 30 years of our life away.

Then I called my mom (you know, the diabetic) to give her the good news, and her sugar levels were low. I thought it when she answered and then it became desperately apparent during our 10 minute conversation when she kept telling me, over and over again, that her Cocker Spaniel wasn’t around. So it took about 10 minutes to call some of my relatives and find someone who could run over to my parent’s house and give her a Snickers bar or something, because she was too far gone to do it on her own.

So after *that* excitement, Jazz and I went over to the house. I ran through all of the rooms with my arms outstretched. It’s so strange. Two years ago, we couldn’t even afford a condo in the D.C. area. The economy is bad, and I do feel a twinge of guilt that so many people are losing their homes and jobs… but somebody needs to buy.

The townhouse we bought has 3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, and 2 half-baths (or, as Jazz cutely puts it, “powder rooms”). It also has a basement, which will become our theater room. (Note: it is not a “man cave” and anybody who calls it that will be charged double for a matinee showing.)

For the months leading up to the move, Jazz and I saved like crazy. The good part about this is that we over-saved, and now we have a few month’s worth of mortgage payments saved up. Also, I got promoted (yay!), so now we actually have a little disposable income.

(And if anyone knows how to dispose of income, it’s Jazz and I.)

We’ve been buying lots of new stuff for the house… “good stuff.” Stuff I wouldn’t have bought for the apartment. When we lived in the apartment, I really didn’t think about quality of anything. I just saw something, it was cheap, and so I bought it. We’re going to try not to do that anymore.

I’ve fallen in love with Etsy. Have you ever gone to Etsy? If you haven’t, I recommend it. Etsy is a website where you can open up a store and sell hand-made items for others to purchase. I don’t have a store, because I don’t make stuff, but I know someone who does.

We recently bought some Star Trek prints from a seller called nonobjective. They are amazing! We just need to frame them.

We also bought an absolutely amazing print of Boba Fett from underthekitchensink that should arrive here (from Scotland!) next week or so:

Boba Fett

These will be good additions to the Universal Monsters (Dracula, Wolf Man, Mummy, Bride of Frankenstein, Creature from the Black Lagoon, and Frankenstein) prints I bought Jazz for Christmas from strongstuffshop.

Sometime during the past few months, I’ve gotten too fat for my clothes. I’m pretty sure the calorie that broke the pants button was sometime in the past two or three weeks, but it has been a slow build.

By way of excuses, I cite (1) work, which was absolute hell for about 2+ months; (2) grad school, which is annoying beyond belief or reason; and (3) buying a house, which just takes time but was completely fun.

In any case, here I am, trying to squeeze my fatness into the one or two items of clothing that still fit. Ugh. My self-esteem is about minimum right now, and any sense of drive to do just about anything is gone. Or, maybe, was gone until yesterday. (As an aside, I’m not sure what happened yesterday, but I felt more energized… except today I feel weird and disconnected from my brain, so go figure.)

I hate this cycle, the neverending up-down-up-up-up-down-up-up-up-up-up-down-up of the number of the scale. (For what it’s worth, I have no idea what the number on the scale is right now, because I am petrified of checking it.)

It seems easy, losing weight, when they tell you how. Eat less, move more! Hah! So what do you do when you’re working 12 hour+ days during the week, plus weekends, and you have two group projects due within two weeks and a final? What do you do when your natural inclination is just to curl into the fetal position rather than make/eat a salad, and you really, literally, don’t have time to exercise between work, class, studying, showering, and sleeping? It’s so easy, except when it’s not, which is always.

I know, we all make choices, and I made mine.

I know this seems like a crazy post (although not as crazy as my last one, am I right?), but it’s really just the last squeak of a cry for help and some perspective that has been building for a few months now. So, umm, help? Perspective?

For the record, want to add here how difficult it is to write on this blog anymore. I have recently found out that a lot more people “in my real life” read this than I previously knew about, and that scares the crap out of me.

But anyway, here’s the bottom line: I’m fat. Again/still. I’m annoyed by it. I’m going to do something about it… like today, I’m walking home from the subway station — it’s about a mile and a half.

That’s my first step. 999 more to go.

When I was a kid, I went to a nearby camp for a summer… or maybe two summers, I don’t remember. There was a cute junior counselor who used to “dirty dance” with the girls. I didn’t like camp, as a general rule, but I enjoyed some of the trips. We went to the zoo once, and I bought a peacock feather. Before I got home, I managed to break the feather in half. I wasn’t really that upset about it, but I still remember that feather. I wonder if the feather remembers me.

Jazz and I put an offer on a house about a week+ ago, and it was accepted. The house is wonderful and fits what we wanted and is so much more than I thought I could ever, ever have or, really, ever, ever deserve. And I don’t “deserve” it. But anyway, I don’t want to tell you about the house-yet.

I want to tell you about the pact I made with God/god/gods/goddesses/flying spaghetti monster, etc. (paraphrased as “God” from here on out) last Saturday. I said to the great beyond that if Jazz and I got the house, I would go to church at least once.

I know that *technically* you’re “not supposed to” make pacts with God like this. It’s something about the Bible and the 40 days Jesus spent not eating or drinking and was tempted by the devil or something. Or at least that’s what Catholic school taught me.

Now here’s the problem. Read the rest of this entry »