Seriously, I Hate My Couch.

I don’t invite people over.

The prospect of a relaxing Sunday afternoon stippled with sunny reflections
over breezy chatter isn’t something on my agenda.  Yet.

You know why?

It’s because I hate my couch.  Not just in that way where you kind of don’t like your couch, and it seems a little outdated… but with the burning hot fury of a thousand suns.

The Beast, a nickname it has been christened with over time, sits – nay, lurks! – in our living room.  We have a 600 square foot apartment, 90% of which is taken up by the goddamn couch.  It was there when we move in, and it will probably be there when we leave.  A green, cracked leather behemoth of furniture, it knows that it could never be replaced because it is just too much of a hassle to move.

I’ve considered getting the day laborers outside of Home Depot to just take it away.  ¿Dónde a?, they’ll ask me, and I will shrug and point out the door.  Just take it.  The couch sits, smug in its’ permanence, and you can almost hear it laughing at us.  Mocking. 

 

It’s just not fair.  Have you even seen what’s out there?  Ever since buying The Entertainment Beast,
all I’ve really wanted to do is get a new couch.  With the goods that you can find at ApartmentTherapy, InhabitLiving or MocoLoco,
it almost makes me want to have a tantrum.  

What happens is that I see sites like Workspace of the Week over on Unclutterer and want my apartment to be cleaner.  This either makes me surf obsessively (weeping!) through the home décor
sites, or launches an epic cleaning spree that results in the apartment looking like we just moved in.  That latter bit happens perhaps once a month, and can probably be blamed on the moon… or the
cat.

Then my wishlist factor kicks in.  The first symptom is astonishment: WHY does
a single chair cost more than I make in almost six weeks worth of work?  The second symptom is answered by its’ own questioning:  WHY can’t we have that?  Well, because a single chair costs more than I make in almost six weeks worth of work.  Don’t get me wrong: it’s an awesome
chair.  It is, however, a CHAIR.

Other things that are interesting (and make me realize that I really am a packrat) are things like this, where someone lives in a space half the size of my dwelling.  They probably don’t share that with a
significant other and a cat, but you never know.  They also probably know how to pick up their laundry and put it away, however this is one of my major downfalls.  The lines in those rooms are nice and clean, and all of those homes look like display models.  My home is not particularly clean, nor does it look like a display model.  It looks like a renovated San Diego beach cottage from the 70’s, which makes it stay true to form.

However, that last link brings me full circle… did you see the couch?  Square, comfy, one piece?  Yeah, I need to borrow that.  You don’t need it.  I need it.

While you’re at it, feel free to pick up some new sheet sets for me.  Maybe it’ll offset the couch.

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It’s almost that time…

…time for PEEPS!!

I don’t even care to eat peeps, but the sugary enthusiasm that so many people gain from eating (or mutilating) them is just infectious. For example, did you know about Peep Jousting?

The messy and largely self-entertaining game, “Peep Jousting” is played with a microwave oven.

This is a game played With A Microwave Oven. How can it not be a winner?

Anyway, in case you want to partake:

One takes two Peeps, and licks the right-hand side of each until sticky. A toothpick is thereby adhered to each Peep, pointing forward like a jousting lance. The Peeps are then set in a microwave, squared off against one another, and heated up. As they expand, the toothpick lances thrust toward each opponent, and the winner is the one that does not pop and deflate (or fizzle and die). Both usually are eaten after the competition, however, regardless who the victor was, calling into question the nature of “winning” in such a circumstance.[1] This folkloric tradition has been noted by the Washington Post. Peeps jousting has also been called such names as “mortal peep fight.”[2]
courtesy of wikipedia, of course.

I was reminded of peeps and various other treats by stumbling around on Vox, running into Serendipity’s blog again. I didn’t realize it was hers until I saw the post about the hot cocoa again. She’s also got a fabulous post about Cheese Etiquette, which I encourage all of you to read and remember.

Speaking of cheese (one of the motives behind this post), I got to hang out with Rupert last night. Our original destination was Dairy Queen, but there is only one within a 20-mile radius, and it closes at 7. Something I found out when getting there at 715. So we found the Golden Spoon (that replaced Ben & Jerry’s in Hillcrest)… it was okay, but no Dairy Queen.

Then we decided to wander across the street to Wine Steals, which was a brilliant choice. We got a flight each (the first glass was high-fivable, the other two were decent but not my favorite), and split a half-board (cheese, olives, meats, bread, olive oil mixed with balsamic, fruits). It was very VERY good times, and I’m going to recommend it to everyone. He was also nice enough to treat me, which made it taste even better. 😉

That joint was so good, by the way, that it makes me want to host bi-monthly wine-and-cheese parties. You wouldn’t think it would be so difficult. Why not have a group that hosts it at different locations every few weeks? It’s probably cheaper than going to that place (although we could meet up there if no one wants to have it at their home)… and you could be in your house clothes.

Sounds like a good idea, that means its’ flake factor is in the high percentiles. Let’s hope not. My collaboration of friends has gotten smaller, but more consistent. We shall see.

Anyway, I’m off to finish doing laundry and installing the Sims [complete collection!!!11!]. Yes, it was already installed, but these are the trials we must face when we lose a hard drive. Bastards. Just like the washers & dryers outside… why must they forsake me? Why must they shut off two minutes into their cycle, forcing me to wait and reselect? Why must one of the two dryers smell like mildew, hence making my clothes smell the same? WHY MUST THEY BE A MAGNET FOR TRANSIENT URINE?!?!?!