caudelac: (complain!)
So, my husband is also a writer, and a damn fine one. What he writes-- what he excels at-- is pure, wizardly fantasy, of a kind that you don't really see these days, unless its mixed up with a lot of dull, self-aggrandizing heroes or torture porn. Think Jack Vance without the misogyny, with a bit of Steven Brust. Now, the circles I know are all weird fantasy, urban stuff, lovecraft, or aggressively looking for (and rightly) works by and about women and people of color. Which I adore, because those are all my street.

But where does a white guy writing straight up, crazy arcane and erudite Fantasy go as far as markets these days? I know those places gotta be still out there.

Anyway, he has finished a story I love, and which reads extremely well, in spite of his giving in to the desire to drop in as many arcane, five dollar words as humanly possible (noumena? Really?). But dear lord, I don't know the last time I read a book written in the last decade where the magic actually felt like... wizardly? Arcane? The stuff of massive, obscure tomes and decrepit towers and yes. I think that people think, "oh god, there's tons of that already, and we know how that works," but I'm like... is there, really? Because if there is, please, for the love of all that's holy, point me to it!

(yes, this is a call for recommendations. Because really.)

(also also, yay new house!)
caudelac: (bliss.)
Today is last day at Old Jorb.

Heading to the husband's family Time Share and hanging out in Savannah this weekend!

Next week, duck-lining to prep for listing our condo.

OMGWTFFORWARD!
caudelac: (Default)

Wukr: wukring.
Home: cleaning.
Boy: writing like a fiend. Also working!
Cat: whining.
LARP: omg so much to do... (see also Boy.)
Car: brakeless. Fortunately...
Parents: Here this weekend, willing to co-sign on a car-loan.

I still need to put my hands on my car's &@);:-! Title, because that will be important for trades. I'm thinking of getting a used Prius, coz they seem pretty well priced around here. Mom suggests a Fiat. Yeah.

So we'll see about that.

Posted via LiveJournal.app.

caudelac: (cannondrag)
So the flooding being a bad thing, and there having been a lovely one on the ABCDurham listserv, it looks like the Other and I shall be moving at the end of the month. Assuming no one else snatches it out from under us. Deposit for lady on Friday. Serious moving last weekend of month, I think.

I also think we just like to torture our cats a lot, honestly.
caudelac: (Amuse me.)
if one is going to clean one's house, and put on a DVD, the Every School House Rock Song ever DVD is really the best of all choices.

And of course, when put on shuffle, the first song played will naturally be 'The Shot Heard 'Round The World'.

Of course.
caudelac: (angst.)
Y'know what this house represents?

A futile attempt to force a little stability into a life that had gotten far too chaotic, even for my standards.

I really should have fucking known better.
caudelac: (ded of vibrato)
So. Moved. Utterly. Completely empty apartment, keys turned in, new house stacked with boxes, all felines present and accounted for, and yes. One made it to work this morning on time, much to the amazement of all. Is barely standing upright, but this is to be expected. Four bloody days to move and clean and, and, and...

Now the remodling!

Lunch break nearly over. It is to finish reading f*list and sudoku.

And to paint the monitor with my brains! Go back to work.
caudelac: (splitting headache)
Things don't always work out the way one plans.

*disappears in a smear of scrubbing bubbles*
caudelac: (need.)
Probably the last update I shall manage for some few days, barring lunch at wurk and possibly the cleaning tonight. We expect some kind of cable modem/wireless to come back into the world in perhaps a week or so, mais alors, in the meantime...

Gas is on at the house. Cats are moved. One, maybe two last loads and some cleaning and, and...

YES.
caudelac: (ded of vibrato)
Most of it is done. One of Sil's co-workers showed up not long after the last post and we hauled ass to get nearly every heavy item of furniture out of here and into the house. The only things remaining are the futon frame, some small bookshelves that can be moved in Stauff's car, and the rocking chair, aside of, you know, boxes. Which we will do tomorrow. And then...

...And then.

Need a home depot credit card because LORD, there will be the Laying of Tiles and it will be Good. Rabbit don't do linoleum, nawsuh.

I apologise for the liberal use of profanity in the last post. Moving brings out my homicidal side in horrible ways. No one is dead, though some may be seriously crippled. And I apologise to them too.

Now to finish this game of sudoku, cuddle the incredibly traumatised cats (OMGWTFMOVING!?!?11eleven!!?!?!111one1) and fall over THUNK.
caudelac: (splitting headache)
Sil's co-workers who promised teh showing up did not.

all of my friends are the sort who work saturday nights.

So it's me, Sil, and an injured Rifleman German Count assiduously attempting to empty a two-bedroom apartment before 10 am tomorrow. Well, mostly empty. due to some timing issues, the gas is not on at the house, thus the stove, heat, and showers will not be usable until tuesday morning. And of course, I am the only one capable of actually lifting anything particularly heavy. So we'll be here till tuesday. like amateurs at the apollo.

And to top it all off, I can't find the fucking allen wrench.

Don't ask why this is the most important fucking thing ever, just believe me that is IS and this not having such thing is BAD.

Dash it all.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go make a mattress fly.

ETA: I want a fucking UNIT of fucking DRAGOONS I can ORDER to move this fucking furniture, BY GOD.

That is all.
caudelac: (standing out in a crowd.)
Utilities: Transferred.

Bill payments: Set up.

Moving Truck: Reserved.

Food: Good.

Work:

Work:...

Work: Hello?

Work: Is anyone there?

Work: Bueller?

Work: *dial tone*
caudelac: (climb the tower)
Last night, as I discovered when I left work, was Culture Crawl in downtown Durham, a Thing which I suppose I have been semi-avoiding for several months. Partly because I feel bad abandoning Andrew in the studio thing, and partially because I have not been a mood to do much of anything as far as visual artwork in as many months, and seeing all the successful people at their openings is depressing. Yes, I am that petty, on occasion. Nonetheless, the Scrap Exchange was hosting the collage/assemblage work of a local lass named Rachel Goodwin (who I assume would not mind me pimping her work on my lj, though I've no link or anything) and had some music by the Wigg Report (Which really ought to be spelled Whig, to be more amusing), and a fellow with a guitar named Charles, who played amusing, folksy, quasi-political fare. Though it was quite good. All during this, one was given a stack of magazines, some cloth, some modge podge, and a large board to glue said items too. This was a very good way to de-stress after This Week of Wurk, which has been progressively more and more obnoxious, and which was continued today, as I was stressing over submitting the company's tax crap to the social security commission, and boggling over the unemployment tax forms. #2 and I got it more-or-less figured though. And that was a great goodness. And results in overtime pay, which is very very good.

Went to ringside after and hung with the lovely [livejournal.com profile] ghettonqueen, who was tending bar, and my dear Master K, who was door-tending. FAME!'s anniversary party is tonight and [livejournal.com profile] silvarawilde and I are on the guest list, but I do not think I need any more martinis, and I definately do not want to worry about finding a way home, as last night was tricksy enough as far as such was concerned, and resulted in one having to be out far later than one would have liked. Although there wasn't dancing last night and tonight there is likely to be.

Ah well. I can dance with cardboard boxes and packing tape, to Salome's Last Dance-- and Bloc Party, because it isn't like I don't have all the Bloc Party in the world on my hard drive. And thanks to my beloved [livejournal.com profile] marshalmeg beaucoups d'Amélie les Crayons, aussi.

And we did go to the House today (with the assitance of the excellent [livejournal.com profile] stauffenberg, who took many pictures with his digital camera), and survey what work needs to be done. Painting, mostly. Much painting, some minor repair to the back door, a shed, and the like. And getting the fireplace looked at properly, because Rabbits are obsessed with having proper working fireplaces.

And the bathtub in my bedroom is far, far too small, but we knew this. When rates are reasonable and finances are stable, you know the first home improvement project a Rabbit will engage in is the remodeling of bathrooms to accommidate excellent claw-foot tubs. In the meantime, the other one is reasonably decent. Ah, priorities.

So need a home depot card.

This has been your weekend update al azar. As it were.
caudelac: (hope.)
One's kitten-- one will perhaps recall that a Rabbit has a young black-furred malecat, in addition to the One Who Has Passed Away-- has survived his surgery (the regrettable but necessary act of neutering), and shall hopefully be rescued to-day in ways not of the bus. One hopes.

One's House is in bank-induced limbo, due to Foundation Issues. Mixed blessings Ahoy.

One's Car... let's not speak on't, though one has been given names of reputable and inexpensive Fixers of Cars.

One's Work: GOD LET ME GET TO THE COURTHOUSE BEFORE I SHOOT OUT THE &@*^!*&!! PHONE!!!

The Rest of One's Life: Actually... Not bad. Not bad at all.

Heh.
caudelac: (wailing and gnashing of teeth)
Chase Bank must DIE.

Closing next week. Assuming they can get the second inspection done, and all that shiznit.

And IF the whole fucking loan does not need to be restructured.

*KILLS STUFF*
caudelac: (Self)
I have nothing to say today except that I hate waiting.
caudelac: (Arr!)
Franklinton even was called on account of rain. Rabbits had Many Errands, most of which involved looking for contractors and archetectural remnant places with which to assault the New Place. One may have found a clawfoot bathtub for $100-- would have to refinish it, likely a couple-to-three hundred dollar job, iffen we can find the tools and the time, or someone who has said tools and will be willing to take it on. But it's still cheaper than the one place which is selling the unfinished for $350, and the finished for $800.

Also, one found a small cast iron cannon, for $150, but Silly won't let us have it in the house. *pouts* Realised how hard it is to find good, decorative wooden molding to do the wall treatments I want to do. I am so going to bore the hell out of everyone with this blather by the end of it all.

Oh yes-- one forgot to mention-- there was a giant bubbly growth in the bathroom ceiling (this is at Current Apartment, pas New House), which the nice worker-men are fixing. So now there is Ginormous hole in bathroom ceiling, pas a bubble, and from this hole there periodically drops roaches, apparently.

We've got to move the living room around so that they can get to the icky crustly falling moulded paint strips from the living room window on monday.

Oh, one is teh happy that there soon will be moving, that pest inspections are Necessary before Closing, and that we shall not have to depend on stupid landlords and their whims and whiles for the fixing of these things, but merely on our pocketbooks. And that no one will be able to come into our house and have opinions about the clutter of my art junk-- that I /have/ to listen to, anyway.

Yes.
caudelac: (*hugs*)
Many thanks on all the multitudinous congratulations, even from those who raise their eyebrows at the Durham-ified location of the House itself. Nonetheless, we extend a warm welcome to Many Those Who Wish to visit upon our Houseness-- after closing and moving and so forth of course, as this is simply the Under Contract part of the grand dance.

Our parents each seem to be most thrilled, and this is the best part of all. It's such a relief, to have the [livejournal.com profile] dakotagirl4_ and the Father's good opinion on these promiscuous matters, and Sil's dad wants to come out and fix our roof in the spring, so that is all to teh goode.

One supposes there will be other content soon, but as this is the big thing I was holding my breath on, and now feel compelled to share, forgive me if it occupies my posting habits for some little time to come. At least the lj, she be a trifle less cryptic for a time. Which is quite all right. I have other forums on which I may be blissfully cryptic, and so forth and so on.

And... YES.
caudelac: (eep ack and other such.)
We have done it.

That is to say-- my dear non-sexual domestic partner [livejournal.com profile] silvarawilde and I have made an offer on a house-- and not only a house but /the/ house, the one I have been mad for for more than two years. Lo, but we made yonder offer on yonder house-- and lo, we were Accepted.

Yesterday we signed the loan paperwork. 30 years, fixed interest at 7.125%, (not bad for first time home buyers with 0 down, paying 0 closing costs, one with fair credit and one with no credit at all), and the only way the mortgage payments will go up will be if the taxes increase in 5 years, when the house is reassessed (assessments haoppen every 8 years regardless, this house was done 3 years ago).

Our soon to be next door neighbor gave us shots of vodka in celebration, then we went out to Elmo's for shakes and burgers of achievement.

So much to do. Must hire Lawyer and call insurance company and get a contracter to examine the dark underbelly and give estimates. Must measure rooms and consider best tile to lay in kitchen. Must price dishwashers and consider cabinet removal, and have electrician out and price cleaning services and, well, Pack. May possibly need 2-3 month subletter to finish out our lease.

We close either the 18th or the 21st, depending on how quickly these details are handled.

OMG/I/AmBuyingAHouse!!!!

*dies workward*

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