House for Sale

Filed Under Future, Home Sweet Home, Money, My Childhood | Leave a Comment

Not ours! My childhood best friend’s old house is now for sale. The one we grew up playing in all the time. So many memories there… This is the house where we went “tanning” on the roof. We played Nintendo for hours until we beat Zelda, sitting on her brother’s top bunk and looking down at the tv. We got locked outside and climbed in through the kitchen window more than once. We jumped off the deck onto the trampoline. It was just the house where we always hung out. She hasn’t lived there since 8th grade when they moved about a half hour away, but when we went to stop by a friend’s house last week we drove past and I saw that it was for sale. I looked at the listing and it looks amazing. And, get this- it’s a SIX BEDROOM house. How cool would that be. We could sell our house now and pretty much trade even, price-wise. It also has all new cabinets, countertops, hardwood, etc. Living room, family room, eat in kitchen, formal dining room, finished lower level with rec room and big storage room…

If I thought we could sell right now we seriously might be interested. I would just be afraid our house wouldn’t sell. We started looking at online mortgage stuff and it looks like we could get even a lower interest rate than what we have now. (Just under 6%). Gah, I know it’s not realistic but it’s fun to dream. I should be content with this house for now. Why is it that we are always wanting the next, bigger, better thing?

Little Purple

Filed Under My Childhood, Thoughts | 2 Comments

I don’t know if I have ever griped about my car to you guys or not. I really don’t like it at all, but I feel guilty disliking it. Let me give you a brief history of the car. It was given to me my senior year in high school by my parents (new, in 1997, although the car is a 98). It is a purple cavalier. At the time, I thought purple was the best color EVER for a car. They paid for the car and my insurance. It was supposed to be my graduation present, but I wrecked my first car and needed something sooner. So the Cavalier (affectionately called The Crapalier) entered my life.

We have seen some crazy things together. My high school BFF and I drove that car to parties, on crazy road trips, and it was with us through quite a few Carman Road and Schnucks parking lot incidents. Then I went away to college, and not everyone was lucky enough to have a car their freshman year. It provided a lot of transportation throughout the next four and a half years. I was the DD once in a while and gave people safe rides home. I stupidly drove when I shouldn’t have in that car. It took me to sorority meetings, internships, and my jobs. I had the car when I met Jonathon. When we first met, his car was a piece of crap so we drove mine a lot of the time. One morning when we first started dating, he drove over to my apartment before work to scrape snow off my car for me.

Anyway, as much as I dislike driving a purple car now (did I mention it’s dented and the windshield is chipped?) I will probably be sad to see it go. It hasn’t had any real problems yet, so I can’t justify getting a new one and making payments at this point. It’s really not worth much money, though, so I will most likely just do a car donation when I finally replace it. Jonathon did something similar with his old car and it was really easy. It saves the trouble of trying to sell it and he got a tax deduction for it. This one website I found, Car Angel,(www.carangel.com) is a non-profit company that uses car and other donations to make Christian videos for kids and teens.

I am kind of sappy about getting rid of my old stuff. I would rather think of it going on to bring someone else happiness. Yeah, I am lame. But then… I get to think about what kind of car I will get next. What I would like, is a pretty silver Lexus SUV. What is more realistic, is something like a Pontiac Vibe or a Honda CRV

I Distinctly Remember…

Filed Under Blogger Carnival, My Childhood | Leave a Comment

When I was in third and fourth grade, we used to love playing outside at recess. We didn’t play on the playground equipment anymore, though. That was for the boys, and for the weird girls. We quit playing on the equipment after She-Ra became uncool, circa second grade. Our new thing was playing under this huge pine tree to the side of the soccer field.

We would play under this tree every day. Usually we played house in the beginning. The pine branches would break off and we would use them to “sweep” the dirt under the tree. I can’t even express how enormous this tree was. We stood under its lowest branches, and it kind of hung down around us and made a great shelter. There was also an apple tree close by, and we would pick the apples off the ground and smash them into pretend food creations. Once house lost its novelty (or maybe we outgrew it) the tree became a good spot for our club that we created. The Sexy Six. Yeah, that was fourth grade. Who did we think we were? In fifth grade we became The Black Jags, and we had to wear something black EVERY day or we couldn’t hang out with the club.

I can’t believe I have so many memories about these trees on the playground. That same pine tree leaked this gross sap-like stuff. I got it all over my coat one year from leaning against the tree, and I remember my mom being sooo mad. In the fall of my third grade year, on my birthday, our class went outside for a walk. We were walking past the trees and I picked up one of the apples off the ground to take a bite. A bee stung me on the lip- on my eight birthday. Happy freaking birthday.

Pimp My Truck

Filed Under Dreams, Friends, My Childhood | 4 Comments

Jonathon and I watched a hilarious show on CMT the other night… I forget the name of it but it was like a cross between Pimp My Ride and Extreme Home Makeover. It was about guys getting their semi trucks redone. Some of these people had entire families living in there, and kitchens, and stuff like that. They spend thousands of dollars on these truck accessories that I have never even heard of.

I have only ever known one person who drove a truck. Well, I didn’t really know him. When I was in third grade, I had a friend named Shannon. Her house apparently smelled really bad (like not just a little but like why wasn’t the health dept called). I was aware of it a little bit as a kid but I guess I didn’t know how bad it was. She lived with her mom and her sister in one room in the basement of her grandparents house. They kept their dirty laundry in the bathtub, so I doubt there was much bathing going on. I remember they had a dog named Rex. It was a big scary German Shephard. I don’t remember if I had a weird incident with that dog, but I know that to this day I am terrified of German Shephards (and other big scary dogs in general).

Also I have had a recurring dream recently about the grandpa and the wallpaper in the upstairs bathroom. Which is odd, because I don’t think I’ve ever been up there, and the dream isn’t anything nasty, so get your mind OUT OF THE GUTTER!

I also remember making snow cones once in Shannon’s Snoopy snow cone machine. I remember trying to eat mine, and thinking that it tasted like smoke and dirt. I have always hated cigarette smoke smell, except for when I was in high school and college and I thought smoking was cool and fun. Now I can’t stand it.

I remember being in the bathtub one evening after I got home from Shannon’s house. My mom came in and had “a talk” with me about how I couldn’t go play over there anymore. It was too dirty and stinky. Apparently she had to wash everything I wore over there and couldn’t get rid of the smell. It was that bad. I can almost remember the stench if I think back to it.

Also, one time Shannon’s dad came up in his big truck to surprise her at recess. He walked over to the playground and I noticed that he was missing a lot of teeth. So to make a long story short- that’s my only encounter EVER with a trucker, other than the ones I see at fast food restaurants along the highway. And we DON’T stop at the ones that are just “rest areas” for fear of getting snatched.

See, this is what happens when I post too late at night. I get very rambly and tell you even more things than usual that you care nothing about.