The Bathroom Remodel

I had this great idea to remodel the half bath on the main floor of the house.

And it really was a great idea. While the bathroom was functional, it was not aesthetically pleasing. 

The walls in the bathroom were white like the rest of the house, which is fine. Nothing some paint can't fix.

The floor on the other hand, was gross. No amount of scrubbing could ever make the floor look clean. And since the house was a rental for twenty years before we bought it, I don't even want to think about the junk the floor has seen.

Out it goes!

And if you're going to take out the floor, you might as well cut out some drywall and throw some soundproofing insulation in between the wall for some added privacy.

Not a large project at all.

So let's begin taking everything out!

I started with the towel racks, not sure why a five by five room needed two towel racks but it had two.

And in case you wanted to preform pullups on the towel racks, very long screws kept those suckers mounted to the wall.

This is when I began questioning what the people prior were thinking. A question I had for the next two weeks.

 It was also amazing what I found once I began taking stuff out and down. Hello space for a medicine cabinet mirror which was covered by a giant mirror. A mirror so large Ms. Piggy couldn't fit it in her dressing room.

 One of my wonderful friends called me on Friday for a phone chat, and asked what I was doing. I was unhooking the toilet and draining it of water to remove it --The definition of adulthood, by the way. And once it was removed we got to see the grossness of our floor at a whole new level.

Everyone please join me a resounding EWWWWWW. 

So, I began peeling back the vinyl sheet and was met with this. Apparently, you do not need a subfloor across your entire floor, but only where the vanity will be resting.

For the record, it made it easier to pry up the particle board subfloor that was stapled every inch apart. It was very secure.

The last piece was the hardest to pry up, as it had the consistency of hamster cage lining.

It took about a week for me, Chris, and my wonderful friend Becky to pull up the particle board which was glued and stapled to the floor. And where there was no glue or staples it had fused itself to the floor.

Again, who did this?!

So, we decided to leave the floor for another day and start demoing the walls. I greatly enjoyed my drywall knife, which cuts through everything, except studs, heating vents, and anything not drywall.

Ok, it just cuts through drywall, but it does it very well. Also, Becky is very safety conscious and says eye protection is a must while cutting drywall.

So I grabbed my eye protection.

Yup, those are ski goggles. 

And at the end of the first day we made great progress. The walls were cut out, and most of the floor was ripped up. And I was feeling really good about destroying a bathroom.

But it was a little weird using duct tape for it's intended purpose. We took down a wall with the hope of moving a light switch closer to the door. Instead, we found a heating vent with puncture holes.

So I just taped those, and began padding the walls with insulation as Becky attacked the floor.

 Yup, that's a belt sander. And that is Becky using safety precautions.

Neither one of us used one before, but I've seen a few people using one to figure it out.

And keeping stereotypes alive we decided the best way to use one was like an iron. Keep it moving, and don't put a hole in the floor.

She got the glue and particle board chunks up pretty quick.

And we got the drywall up pretty quick. It was surprisingly easy to cut drywall. It's not that easy for us to read a ruler. We had measurements like: 34 inches and seven lines. Or 20 inches and two lines past 3/4.

While it was not legit ruler reading, it was pretty accurate.

(** We are capable of reading a ruler, and had legit measurements as well.)

Although, I had a wonderful moment of trying to figure out how many 16ths are in an inch.

I blame the dust or something.

I admit it was not my finest moment. But look, the walls got done.

We only had one issue of hanging it. A ninja nail snuck itself in a corner and made us crazy on why the drywall would not go flush. We figured it out. It was fine. Made us feel kind of dumb. But it was fine.

At 3pm on Thursday I was leaving for Whistler and I was on my own for adding texture to the wall. I could not get the texture to be consistent. Which is why it looks like a drunk sailor added texture with a seagull.

The theme for the bathroom is Great Lakes Winter, so I guess the seagull texture goes with it.

What was fun, as seven people walked into the house were all surprised I was remodeling the bathroom. And being engineers all had the question of why I was doing this right before we were supposed to leave.

It was supposed to be done by the time they got to the house. Oh well. 

A sore and broken Mo was back to work in the bathroom on Monday, with a quick paint job with paint leftover from my bedroom, it was time for the floor.

Oh the floor. It looks awesome, but it was a pain to grout.

Becky came up huge with methods of cleaning the grout off the rocks.

And floor went from this:

To this:

This all took a little more than a week, which involved a four day ski trip. So you would think the finishing touches would be a quick thing.

No.

It took us longer to put the bathroom back together than it did knocking everything down.

I thought four weeks before the Superbowl would give me plenty of time to finish the bathroom before thirty people came over to watch the game; and yet it was Friday night before the game we were installing a door.

For the record,  installing doors are a pain in the ass. But once Chris recognized his lovely wife made the drywall 1/8 of an inch longer than the header, and therefore impeding the top of the door jamb from being raised as it needed, and then sent lovely wife up a ladder with a knife to undo what was done, it was installed in under two hours.

And plumbing on Saturday morning for the sink. Chris took over because I could not get the PVC to connect on Friday:

I also struggled getting the connector piece to connect the 1 1/2 pipe to the 1 1/4 pipe.

Chris claimed he liked plumbing, or wouldn't mind doing it. And he completed the project with less than 26 hours remaining before people came over.

And this is how it all looks minus a mirror and four canvas prints of Great Lake lighthouses.

Not bad huh?

And surprisingly I still have all my fingers and there were no accidental holes in the wall. So that's a win.

Next project?

Well, because we are pros at hanging doors now, we're going to switch all the doors out in the hallway, and I'm going to be painting and removing the old baseboards. Woot!

New Year Resolutions

Happy 2014!!

We brought in the Eastern Time Zone New Year as we flew over eastern Washington on our way back to Seattle after going home for Christmas.

For the record, I'm never flying on New Year's Eve again.

Sure, the fireworks from the plane were cool, but you know what's not cool? Falling asleep on the couch.

When I booked the flight I didn't think it would be that bad.

It was bad.

One, I was exhausted before we began our journey back.

Two, it was a connecting flight through Minneapolis. Which was the easiest connector in the world. We got off the plane, and got back on the same plane for our second leg.

I got the awesome seat assignment of the same seat, on the same plane.

Yeah, that was the highlight.

We landed at 10pm in Seattle, waited for our bags, with the intention of going over to a friend's house after we dropped our stuff off at home.

Did not happen.

We spent New Year's Eve opening our Christmas presents and sleeping on the couch. 

So with the new year, it's time to reflect on last year and start all over, and blah-di-blah-di-ty-da.

So now it's time for resolutions.

 

I think any year you're not arrested, and your family is still talking to you, it's a good year.

 

I will not be inspired. I will not be original. I will not work hard. I will not enjoy. And you can't make me!

 

No, in all honesty, I'll just keep doing my thing. 

I don't smoke. So there's nothing to quit.

I don't have to lose weight, or go to the gym more (I'm there four to five days a week)

I'm not in debt, so there's no spending I have to cut back on.

I'm happily married, so I don't have to figure out the relationship thing.

Yup. New Year Resolution's suck when you have your life together.

Here's to a year of friends, family, and fun!

Happy 2014 everyone!

Writing a Novel

It's NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month)

You have the month of November to write 50,000 words.

Many, many people participate, and many, many people finish their novel in a month. The goal is to finish the novel; not to write a perfect novel.

The rules are simple. Do not write a single word before November 1. You can have an outline, character profiles, and research done, but not a single word can be written. 

I'm not participating because I don't want to stop working on my current novel to begin a new one.

I can read three novels at once, but I cannot create three worlds at the same time. There are way to many voices going on in my head.

Yes, the voices.

Chris and I will be in the car, and he'll ask me what's wrong.

Nothing is wrong, I'm just listening to the voices in my head have a conversation and trying to keep up so I can write it all down when I find a computer or a pen and paper, whatever comes first.

Chris is used to losing me to fictional people.

He came home one day from work and I was sitting on the couch crying as I typed on my laptop.

"What's wrong?"

"Grady Died."

"Who?"

"A character in my novel."

"Don't kill him then."

Yeah, I have no control over my characters. They do what they want, and I'm just lucky enough to get it on paper.



Writing isn't hard. It just takes a lot of discipline to sit at a computer and type on Word and not on Facebook or Twitter.

There is a reason I turn off my Wi-Fi.

Soooooo, why do I write? One, there isn't anything else I really want to do. And because of this:

Focus on the "technically."

There are the jerks who make fun of you writing, and who say stupid stuff about it not being a real job. And stuff that makes them look like ass holes.

It happens. I just try not to let them get me down.



So how do you help a writer? Don't be Gabriel.

Unless if you want to be the villain. 

The Pool

Some people are able to walk in and out of a grocery store without a story. I'm not one of them.

 

It started with me going to the grocery store after swimming at the gym.

 

After swimming I have wet hair. Apparently, this is an issue for an older woman who happened to be in front of me at checkout.

 

"Women should not come out in public as if they just walked out of the shower. You should put effort into your appearance."

 

I just pulled my exhausted body out of a pool after swimming 2,100 yards. I reek of chlorine, my eyes burn and I'm starving. I'm thinking my wet hair is the least of the issue. And really, the only one it's hurting is me; especially in the freezer section.

 

Also, I'm working out. And not just lying around on my butt.

 

Thank you very much.

 

You know The Oatmeal's Why I run long distances?

 

Yeah, well, this is like that. Only it's not.

 

A long, long time ago I was on a swim team.

 

It was a love hate relationship with the pool.

 

I love swimming. I love the quiet under water and I love the lightness and the buoyancy.

 

I hate the cold water. I loathe the cold water. Especially early in the morning.  

 

Try running people say. I'm lazy. I'd rather lie on the couch with a book then go run.

 

 

Yeah, me and running is not a pretty thing. In fact, if you ever see me running, there is a very good chance I am being chased. Check behind me, and then start running because zombies are probably closing in.

 

I also prefer Cheetos to carrots.

 

Sugary drinks to water.

 

Do I eat Cheetos?

 

No.

 

Do I drink pop?

 

No.

 

Well, maybe occasionally.

 

But with swimming, like running, it's okay to eat an out of control amount.

 

 I'm not training for anything. It's just my preferred method of working out.

 

When we were at the apartment I used the workout facility and spent a lot of time on the elliptical and stationary bike. I spent so much time on the elliptical it was amazing I could walk normally instead of my legs moving in a circular motion.

 

And that is when I went back to the pool.

 



 So I entered the pool. I picked it back up one summer when we were in the apartment, and I swam for twenty minutes on the hour, until I swam for an hour and a half.

I had a great tan that summer. And I lost a lot of inches around my thighs, stomach, and butt.

Anyway, when I looking to join a gym I wanted a pool. Sure I can do all those at home workouts, and stuff, but I really liked the coolness of the pool water.

The lightness of the water, but the resistance of a million strength bands, leaves me exhausted when I finish my hour swim.

And this isn't an old lady swim, this is a swim where I'm so tired, I can barely pull myself out of the pool.

 

 But I'm not one of those people to brag about my workout on social media. I leave that to the Crossfitters. They can brag about their horrible form.

Have you seen those Crossfit games?

It's amazing those guys haven't somehow torn every ligament and tendon in their body. Horrible form. And that's just them trying to swim.

Also, no one cares about my workout.

 

Except for the old lady at the grocery store. She really cares about my workout.

Don't buy a house

We have a house, and therefore it makes me qualified to tell you this:

DO NOT BUY A HOUSE.

I don't care how much more room there is for activities, it is NOT worth it.

With a house comes a yard. Our yard is goat approved. Meaning a goat could eat our grass and not starve within a day or four.

Our yard was basically abandoned and has required way more Saturdays then was preferred.

Yeah, you heard me. You buy a house and you lose your weekends to keeping it from falling down.

There's insulation, and flooring, and painting, and ugly bathrooms, and horrible laminate floors, and nothing like it looks on Pinterest (yet).

It is a money pit, I swear to God, you buy a house and you just toss money into the black hole that is Home Depot.

You know how when you are in an apartment and your sink stops working and you can just call the front desk and ask them to send someone over to fix it, and twenty minutes later there is a knock on your door?

Yeah, that stops. And now you're required to fix the sink.

This is what I learned.

Self-sufficiency sucks.

You fix one thing, another thing breaks.

You fix one part up and beautify it, and everything else looks awful.

So then you bust out a power washer, which is really fun to use, and then you start spraying the patio, which leads to the house, which leads to the fence, which leads to your neighbors fence, which leads to you now in her backyard, and it really makes the mouse and the cookie conundrum seem small scale.

And even when there is nothing to do around the house, there really is something to do, you're just waiting for the best time to do it. Like next week.

And you're constantly talking to people about quotes for house projects. And then you decide their prices are insane (because they always are). You end up doing it yourself, even though you have no idea what you are doing.

So then you go to the Internet to figure out what you're supposed to do, and then you're given an unhealthy amount of confidence and you end up way over your head, wishing you had never started the project, or better yet, never bought the house.

I'm begging you. Don't be like me. Don't buy a house.

And also, everyone who was so happy for us because we were buying a house, yeah, you kind of suck for not telling us how awful it is.

It is awful, do not buy a house.

Editor's note: I've been informed that my house is on the verge of burning down and becoming a playground for mold. Insulation is touching the furnace vent, making it hot and setting it up to burn. And the bathroom vents do not vent up to the roofs but to an opening on the side of the attic, allowing moisture to hang out on the wood.

All I wanted as new insulation, and now I'm getting holes cut into the roof. Awesome. Excuse me while I go have a beer.

Second editor's note: Between the Michigan State offense and my attic this is going to be a very long fall.

It's football season, Charlie Brown

It's a cool, rainy morning in the Northwest.

A perfect day for football!

 It's officially fall. At 3 pm PST today, there will be the first kickoff of the 2013 season.

There is new hope! All the disappointment and frustration of last season matters no more because it's a new season.

A new season, but the same old superstitions are observed.

My superstitions involve not speaking of my superstitions.

And with a new season you have new hope.  And because it's my team I normally have the Charlie Brown moment, of believing this time, this season it will be better.

And like Charlie Brown this always happens to me:

 

 

The ball represents my hope and dreams for the season, which are always pulled out from under me because my team is a jerk and likes to cause emotional pain.

 

Just like Charlie Brown believing Lucy will not pull the ball out from him, every year I think it will be different.

 

And like Charlie Brown, it is always the same. Lying on the floor and wondering why I got my hopes up again.

 

And I'm depressed and sad for rest of the season.

 

 

 

Some people don't understand the seriousness of football season.

 

They have these silly sayings of "It's just a game." Or "It doesn't really matter."

 

But no. No, it is way more than a game. And these games do matter.

 

It's very serious, this football thing.

 

It's so serious my happiness of the week revolves around the outcome of a game. So by saying football doesn't matter, you're now saying my happiness doesn't matter.

 

And I may have taken the football a little far with that last sentence. And it may be a little nutty but it's okay because IT'S FOOTBALL SEASON!

 



So from here on out I'm busy on Saturdays and Sundays from about 9am to 8pm, and you can find me on my couch yelling at players and coaches like a maniac.

But that's okay too.

You know why?

IT'S FOOTBALL SEASON!

Acrophobia

There is something to be said about the security of my feet on the ground. It's where my feet are supposed to be and I like them there.

I didn't read "Wuthering Heights" in high school because the idea of a strong gust of wind blowing me off a cliff is a real fear.

So when the opportunity arose for us to go to a high (55ft in the air) ropes course this past Saturday, of course I said yes.

I've ziplined in Mexico, and completed the high ropes course in my hometown, I've bungeed jumped, and skydived, why shouldn't I do the high ropes?

Because of the small detail of I hate heights.

How much do I hate heights?

This much:


























Please note the tears.

And the "I'm going to be sick" look.

I would have loved to have backed out and played it safe. But I had already paid, and you can't get your money back if you're being a wimp.

So then I do this:

Granted, liquid courage was needed on two of the tree, and peer pressure took effect while skydiving. But I did it, and was happy I did it, and so glad I survived.

And I'm so glad I did it, I can actually admit I had fun, even if I was so terrified I could barely walk my legs were shaking so bad.

So at the base of the high ropes as my friend looks at me in shock and says, "You're afraid of heights?"

I nodded, because my voice stopped working in fear.

She had, after all, seen me jump off a cliff a month ago. I was the last person to jump, and I was so scared I forgot to breathe.

It's a common thing. The same thing happened on the ropes course as I walked ten feet on a tightrope wire. The poor staff member probably thought I was going to pass out and he would have to save me, as I dangled 55ft above the ground.

I'm like the worst  Acrophobia person ever, because I'm terrified of heights, and still think going up into the air is a good idea.

"Need a pep talk? I'm awesome at them!"

She really is. She had to give me one while I was standing on a cliff.

I shook my head, as Chris answered: "She'll be fine."

And I was fine, even if I thought I was going to puke while looking over the edge of the first obstacle.

I gave a whole new meaning to tree hugger but I was fine.

I made sure all my safety lines were properly secured, and I made sure I always had a firm grasp on the wire lines wrapped around the tree. And I hugged the life out of those trees. I'm pretty sure you can see my body indent on some pine trees.

"The tree is shaking," someone said.

Yes, yes it was.

But not because I was hugging it so hard.

What's that old adage, if a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it still make a sound?

I don't know, but I do know I'd be making a sound if the tree fell over with me in. It would sound like this:

EAAAAAEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAKKKKKKKKKKKRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHH

"We could die from here."

Shut up.

"These cables could snap at any second"

Shut up.

"This tree is ready to fall"

Shut up.

The only thing I could say the entire day was "shut up" in various tones.

Everyone was very nice in they never tried to shake the line or obstacle I was on.

They were very mean in speaking everything I was convinced would happen.

Luckily, they did not.

I made it through the course, and I lived to tell about it. Chris was ready to go into the next course, higher, and bigger, and more challenging. I was happy my feet were finally on the ground.

But if you ever get a chance, go to Northwest Trek. It's amazing!
http://www.nwtrek.org/