Monday

More boring work on Monday. I don't mind it, but you'll find it super boring. Painting kitchen cabinets. Amanda painting the bathroom. Ho hum.

Today is a bigger day, as the guy who hands me money will hopefully do his job and hand me some money (or at least authorize the release of said money to me). I meet with him on my lunch break today so he can see what's been done in the house.

Also, Electrician Ron is supposed to head to the house to finish up the first floor electrical stuff (replacing outlets and switches, installing the range hood, finishing off the cable outlets, etc). Will he show up? I have no idea.

Another big thing today? I'm going to use those Celtics tickets I bought. Should be a decent time tonight.



Lastly, a question for you: Is Joakim Noah (Bulls starting Center) inbred? You be the judge...

Weekend

Not much to report from the weekend. A lot of hard work happened, but mostly things that would bore you. Sanding, priming and painting.

A washer and dryer, courtesy of Judith Ann and Paul Frankin Topham, were delivered on Saturday. They were hooked up and all of that in the basement. Our piles of laundry up stairs were excitedly waiting to be washed, but alas, the Sears fellows let me know that the cold water line leaks. It needs to be replaced. sweet.

Another lovely plumbing issue presented itself. Also awesome. The drain from the kitchen sink leaks in the basement. I smell another big check to my plumber. Sigh...

Something of note happened on Sunday that had nothing to do with the house, but made me audibly gasp. While I was making some lunch on the grill, I noticed my neighbor (the non-crazy one) had a hat on. I could only see the hat, not the rest of him, because of the big white fence between us. I wish that the fence was taller. A taller fence may have just made it's way into my budget. Why? because when he walked up his back stairs to enter his house, he nodded hello and I could see his gut. And his nipples. Not pleasant.

What I gleaned from this small encounter was that my neighbor likes to sunbathe in his yard on nice days. He's paler than I am (which may not be possible), has a very big belly, and some very gross, very pointy, almost triangular b-cups. It's one thing to see a man built like that at the beach or something, but I certainly didn't expect to see such a thing in the middle of Providence while minding my own business in my back yard.

Neighbors aside, I have a big visit from the guy who gives me money tomorrow and hopefully, he'll cut a nice sized check.

Ronald.

I called Electrician Ron roughly 74 million times over the last few days. I hung up when the voicemail started, left a lot of messages, and got hung up on a few times. Yesterday, he answered his phone.

I'm pretty sure he didn't know it was me, as he started off with something like "I'll be back at 5." I had no idea what he was talking about, and was frankly shocked that he answered. After he mumbled through some inaudible sentences, I asked, "What?"

Silence.

I asked again.

More silence.

*Click*

The only reasonable explanation I can conjure is that he thought I was someone else, then realized it was me and stopped talking, then hung up.

Immediately after I realized that he had hung up on me, I called him three more times in a row. No answer. I left a message along the lines of, "it was great to hear the sound of your voice. Glad you're not dead. I know your phone works. Etc." I kept trying to call him every hour or so thereafter, with no answer.

When I left work, my phone beeped (it does that all the time when you miss a call, have a message or when it wants to annoy me). I flipped it open and saw that I had a missed call. Caller? "Electrician". Could it be true? It can't be. It is!

I immediately called him back and sure enough, someone, possibly even Ron Costa himself, answered the phone. He's apparently in LA and won't be back until Sunday. He'll come to my house on Tuesday. I remain skeptical of both his story, as well as his promise to work on Tuesday. If he shows up on Tuesday with a slight tan, I guess he was telling the truth on both counts.

Other than that, not much happened yesterday. I picked up some things from Home Depot, sanded some walls in the kitchen and looked up a place to get kitchen cabinets, which I will hopefully get today (at a Tent Sale no less. I hope there's cotton candy...).

Amanda got a sweet Dremel attachment and is patiently sanding the window trim's intricacies.

Busy weekend ahead.

Also...

This has nothing to do with the house, but I got Celtics tickets for Game 5 on Tuesday. I'm pretty pumped.

Electrician Ron and the Paint Eater

As stated earlier in the blog, Ron Costa, electrician, sucks. He's been paid, but hasn't finished his work. Worse? He won't return phone calls. My first strategy was to call him and leave a message. That didn't work. I have now turned to calling him at least once an hour, leaving a message with my phone number in it, in case he's misplaced it. It isn't working either.

While the strategy might not be getting the results I'm looking for (a call from him), it is apparently annoying the hell out of him. Three times yesterday when I called, he picked up the phone, only to hang up almost immediately. Awesome. I don't know if that's progress, as he at least picked up the phone, or if it's instead a step back. Who knows.

After work and between phone calls, I headed to Home Depot to get something that I hoped would be awesome. I saw, while researching painting tools (we have a lot of painting to do) this thing called The Paint Eater. It's basically an orbital sander with a purple chunk of sea anemone that attaches to it. It's weird looking.

I don't plan on reviewing tools on this blog, as there are plenty of reviews out there, but I'll give this one a quick pro's and con's. I'll use the compliment sandwich technique, which layers two compliments around a criticism.

Compliment - It's named The Paint Eater

Criticism - The cord is only five inches long

Compliment - It's awesome

As you can see (read), the thing is great. It makes quick work of the many many layers of paint stuck to the trim in the house. I love it. I can't wait to go home again to use it. Sure, I'll be blowing dust and paint chunks out of my nose for the rest of the day, but who cares? It's great.

Here are some pictures of where we are currently living. I took them on Saturday.

Kitchen (with new fridge):

Dining Room:

Living Room:

"Jerk Off Area":

Mud Room (where they put a lot of our crap):

Second Bedroom (where the rest of our crap is):

Office:

Bedroom Where We Sleep Right Now:

What a mess.

Boring

Not much to say about yesterday. After work, I dropped off all of my Cox cable/internet/phone equipment. Somehow, in the North Providence ghetto Cox facilities, nothing of interest happened.

Dinner.

Got to work sanding and prepping the bathroom for some primer/paint. Amanda kept the paint eating goo work up in the living room.

Sleep.

The only real interesting (and it's not that interesting) thing that happened yesterday was my eight million calls to Electrician Ron that went unanswered. I left a message on each of them. Maybe he'll call me back or answer his phone today? I doubt it. Nevertheless, I'll keep on calling him every hour or so until I actually speak with him.

Monday.

Another busy day in what may end up being the busiest month I will ever live.

At lunch, I headed to the house to meet someone who wanted to turn our gas on. The only thing that is gas powered in the house is the water heater. It's kind of important. The National Grid worker gave me a call and let me know he was on his way, so I put up some more joint compound in the bathroom while I waited.

I took a peek outside and saw his truck at the curb when my phone rang. It was the fellow sitting in the truck. He informed me that he had just been called to fix a gas leak somewhere and thus, he wouldn't be turning on the gas right then. Sweet. After I explained that I can't just sit in the house all day wondering when he would be done and come back, as I have a job, he said he would try to send one of the second shift workers sometime after 5. I was not confident.

I told Amanda, who would hopefully be home from work by 5, to kindly sit and wait for the gas man to come by. She agreed, as she enjoys showers.

After work, I headed to the U-Haul rental place in lovely North Providence. I really dislike Branch Ave. After some frustrating driving, I walked into the facility to be greeted by an ultra homosexual man who rolled his eyes when he saw me coming in. I immediately felt bad for this obviously over worked man in an empty self storage facility who didn't have the time to help a paying customer. Realizing what an incredible and possibly unfair burden I was placing on this champion for hard work, I made it quick.

I explained what I needed (which was all in the reservation I made earlier), he swore his way through the paperwork (I'm not kidding, he said effword many times when looking around for things), and he handed me the keys to a bright and shiny (read: old and big) 10 foot moving truck. I left the man to his hand sanitizer (two bottles) hopped in the truck and was on my way to the Sears in Taunton, where my stove, range hood and dishwasher awaited (two of which I can't plug in. Thanks Ron).



During the bouncy ride, I got a call from the gas company and they let me know that they were on their way to the house. I called Amanda to warn her of their impending arrival, and when she picked up the phone, it sounded like she was at a party or something. She was at a party of sorts, but not the kind that anyone with ears wants to be at. She was lucky enough to be talking to our crazy neighbors. It was her first meeting. She was not disappointed.

I got the appliances, drove home and we dragged them into the house. The hot water worked and there was a man skim coating the ceiling of our first floor bathroom. Good progress.

After dinner, Amanda sanded some wood trim in the living room and I started using some of that paint removing goo on the window trim. I used that sweet Ryobi radio to listen (no cable yet. Thanks again Electrician Ron) to the Celtics get a win and an hour after that, I was almost finished. Using a painter's tool, I was scraping the last window casing when the blade slipped and the pointed corner of the tool stabbed me in the finger. Bleeding, I decided that this was a good time to end the day. Here's the offending tool, with a warning that should be on the packaging:


In short, lots got done, I bled a little and we can take hot showers now.