Friday, March 20, 2009

Approved!

We got our pre-approval yesterday! So, I'm back in the spirit of actually looking at houses with the intent of purchasing one. The following things have occurred to me in the past 18 hours:

1) Property taxes in Oregon, for anything worth living in, are friggin' re-cock-u-lous!

2) It seems that every place with land is only for sale because some crap-ass developer bought out everything surrounding said land and has since turned another bit of beautiful country into one more suburban tract-housing hell hole!
(No offence to those who love their suburban homes.)
These developers need to leave some country for those of us who want to enjoy scenery and our horses, rather than board them and see them only when the weather permits. Besides... they built all these cookie cutter "custom" homes that apparently no one could actually afford, so now these homes sit vacant on land that was a family's heritage, but that family was forced to sell because some city decided that rezoning and forcing them out in order to expand is what was best for them... assholes...

sorry. off my box. moving on.

3) Whoever invented wood paneling should be hung by their Achilles and beaten with said paneling

3.5) and who in their right mind would panel every wall in their house, and then think someone might want to purchase that house some day?

4) The Cowboy baffles me... he has searched endlessly for months on end (probably years) for houses he may potentially some day want to purchase in the hopes of removing his parents' claws from his checking account. When I told him we got our approval, what did he do? He watched TV, completely ignored the computer (which is not like him at all) and didn't so much as say "Sweet!"...

I know this adventure has only just begun.

Happy Weekending!

~cheers!

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Because Life Aint Always Beautiful

15 random things that I love:

sunshine - through a window but preferably on my skin

fresh air - especially after it rains and the sun has returned

Tanner the quarterhorse buckskin gelding

the internet - which I completely take for granted

Widmere Drop Top - mmmmmmm

the accomplished feeling I get when I work out - especially when I dont want to

cuddling - in pajamas

monkey's laugh - especially when she's being tickled

blue skies

green grass

the coast - rain or shine

camping - without kiddos (sorry, it's just more fun)

rodeos - bring 'em

dancing - with the Cowboy

and

orange juice - plain old OJ

I sat here all day trying to come up with something to write that I might actually be interested in reading... I got nothin'! It seems so easy to write about the hard stuff and not so easy to think about the good stuff. So I decided to just write some good stuff.... forgive, or enjoy :o)


~cheers

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Dear Future Father-In-Law

Remember your ex-daughter-in-law? Well, I'm nothing like her; I'm not going anywhere. So play nice. Because trust me Sir, I'm going to out live you. Which means, I can tell everyone who thinks that you're upstanding (a short list I assure you) what a bitter, rotten, bastard you really are. It also means I will likely get to speak at your funeral.

Love Always (because I'm going to be required to),
Your Adoring Almost Daughter-In-Law

PS
Just wait till I get to sign the checks ;o)
XOXO
~~~~~~~~~


I remember as a kid being told, "If you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all." I was never very good a keeping this motto.

It has taken many moons for me to learn that speaking my mind is not always the intelligent thing to do. Sometimes it's better to let other people bury themselves, than to call them out on their idiocy. While biting my tongue, quite literally at times, may be a bit painful; it's never quite as bad as eating my own words or worse having to apologise because, wrong or right, my opinions are neither wanted or appreciated.

Having said that...

I think it's best I bite my tongue.
and smile politely.

~cheers

Thursday, March 5, 2009

Finally! I can stop typing and take a walk

This mornings observations:

Burnt raisin bread toast is far better than burnt regular toast.

14 year old boys should be quarantined until they mature to, at least, a tolerable level of "normal".

There are 5, yes five, different kinds of bar-b-cue sauce in my fridge, and ZERO salad dressing.

Children consume food with the semblance of raccoons plundering a garbage can. But for some reason they only want the things I covet. They never want the healthy things at dinner, why would they want them for a snack? Eat the friggin' left over pizza, leave my salad goodies alone!

Maternity panties are a non-essential item, and should be banned... except for high school girls who don't use condoms. For them, maternity panties should be mandatory. (thank you kaydee.) Actually, all teen-aged girls should be required by law to wear unflattering undergarments... and possibly chastity belts.
(can you tell the I have 2 nearly teen-aged step-daughters to be?)

Portland truly is a melting pot. A town full of character. Television is really not needed in this town. If you want entertainment, just pop down to any local coffee shop (not Starbucks. they can be avoided with little effort here.) with a book or laptop to pretend you're engrossed in, and just observe your surroundings... without bothering your neighbors, who are likely doing the same thing. Or they just want to be left the heck alone. Which is completely understandable.
I grew up in Portland. I utilized Tri-Met (public transportation) for the better part of 10 years, therefore have become aloof to the oddity of others outside of my immediate world. I have seen my share many crazy ass people, even from this town's standards.
There are some folks in this corner of the planet, who would assume that because you made direct eye contact with them, for a nanosecond, it means you want to immediately follow them home and try not to make babies. It's sometimes daring to simply offer a friendly smile and hello to strangers anymore, lest you invite a stalker into your life.
When I was 7 months pregnant I was on MAX heading downtown to meet my mom for lunch, and this group of guys, 17-20ish, asked me if I wanted to hop off and go get high. Seriously! I was WAAAY obviously pregnant. I mean, thanks for offering, but get a life. After they departed the train, an honest to goodness DEA agent flashed me his badge and started questioning me about if I knew those guys, and did they really just say what he thought they said. Honestly, things like that are not so uncommon. You'd be amased at the things you hear people talking about on Tri-Met. It's like they think no one can hear them. But I suppose when it seems common place to discuss your sex life, drug use, or to make drug orders in public, one might begin to assume that everyone does it so it becomes psuedo-acceptable.

(sigh.)

I love this town. I hate it too, in the way that many people hate where they grew up... ghosts and old drama and such. Still, hearing another person's tale of Tri-Met (that really does sum it up.) never ceases to make me giggle a little and say "yup." to myself. I can relate completely.

This post went in an entirely different directed than when I started. Though I can not bring myself to split it into separate posts because it is a fairly accurate trip through the spagetti.

~cheers

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