(Go buy a No Arguing with Assclowns T-shirt, would ya? Awesome Christmas gift for the wild ones in your life.)

When, pray tell, did buyers start getting a “carpet allowance” when buying a house with a trashed rug?

Back in my day… why you’d better… you had to… (sputter, sputter). Seriously — the first house I bought? It was a drug house. (Not a lab, they just dealt there.) (And shot up.) (And raised snakes, along with a mangy cat, scrawny pit bull and one huge pink pig.) (No, I’m not making that up.) (It was in my price range.) Anyway — trashed carpet? You haven’t seen trashed carpet until you’ve seen one that an un-housebroken pet pig and pit bull have gotten ahold of. I did not receive said “carpet allowance.” There were meth heads living in the garage for five days after we changed the locks and took possession of the house. The cops wouldn’t help, the realtors wouldn’t help. We had to bring in friends and relatives for back-up. It was so nuts. I had to forcibly evict the animals (and their pets) myself. Thank you, I do kick ass.

Why should I put in new carpets when whoever buys the place is going to say, oh ick, carpet. We must have chestnut floors! (To them I say: We have no pet pig here. You git what you git and you don’t have a fit.) Then (likely scenario) they tear it out — the new carpet I paid big cash for — and throw it in the landfill. Brand. New. Carpet.

That is just wasteful and wrong.

I had this discussion (with my husband, with our realtor, with our friends who have sold their places, with my sister) and finally gave in, as you may remember. We have new carpet. It is wheat-colored. It is warm and sunny.

“Is it because of all those home shows?” my sister asked me. “No one’s happy now unless they have granite countertops and a jacuzzi spa?” I think she’s got a point.

Our awesome painter is here today, doing some touch-up work. No, I will not install new patios (per the request of Realtor 2), or prune everything to two feet tall (per the request of Realtor 1). Realtor 3? So great. Gave us a short list of must-do’s, a longer list of maybe-do’s, and told us to put as much of our junk as we can into storage, to make the place look bigger.

Me? I’m cleaning daily, and we’re keeping up with the dishes and laundry. House goes on the market next month. (Fingers crossed.)

Have you ever sold a house? When did you say, “Enough”? What did potential buyers bitch about the most?

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Hello, fellow shoppers,

I finally went to the new Portland IKEA.

It was scary. But I did get a new bed and a box of cookies out of the deal, so that’s something. (more…)

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Thursday 13ers and dear, dear Usual Suspects,

Our house is going on the market soon SOON as in… maybe this month? (In my dreams.) Or possibly we’ll wait a few months.

Chores take time. And so does yardwork.

Thirteen EXCELLENT Things About Selling Our Home:

13) One word: Newcarpet. The whole house looks sunny and light now.

12) Our storage space is filling up as the house gets emptied out. Goodwill, friends, trash, storage, or Artfully Arranged: A place for everything and everything in its place. (My desk is the exception to this rule.)

11) No more picking up 800 Dr. Seuss, Little Bear and Magic Treehouse books — they’re packed.

10) Ditto 1/2 of our clothes.

9) The front yard is edged. Well. Half-edged. Our lawn is rarely edged.

8) It’s still covered with weeds, which I’m justifying for this reason: If the new owners want a nice lawn, they can pay for it themselves. If they’re going to cover it with flagstones, ground cover and zero-scaping EXCUSE ME xeriscaping, why should I bother? (Good one, eh? I love my logic when it saves me from weeding.)

7) The beds are weeded, though, and we’ve done about 1/2 the pruning.

6) I have never been so in love with my husband in my life. And honestly, I have been madly, head-over-heels with the guy since he was my neighbor down the street. He has done every single one of the projects we (and by we I mean “he”) needed to tackle. Exposed wires covered, new sprinkler system box installed, touch-up paint done, new back door.. to quote Dooce — After all that, I don’t even need a gin and tonic to get in the mood.

5) Did I mention the weather has been gorgeous in Portland, Ore.? (Trying not to jinx myself.) When it’s sunny, I am much more inclined to work in the yard, keep up with the house, go for walks with the kids… and then I get excited about moving all over again. Why? Because we’ll have a new neighborhood to walk in! Yay.

4) I think we’re going to buy Ikea bedroom furniture. Should I really splurge and spend a couple hundred bucks? Yes. I was quite enamored of my mother-in-law’s new room when we visited her in Denver last summer. Her set-up looks kinda like this. I love my futon and all but I am a grown woman now! Sick of sleeping on floor.

3) The kids are enjoying their rooms more now that they’re decluttered. They have room to play. On the floor. Did you know that bedroom floors could be used for this, and not just toy/debris/clothes storage? It’s a revelation.

2) I can find things in my kitchen now — lids to Tupperware, the corkscrew, cooky cutters — now that we’ve cleared some of it out. And the counters? It’s easier to cook, once the counters are cleared off. Again — a revelation.

1) I won’t miss the Nasty Neighbor one bit. She yelled at our carpet guys! Why? They were cutting carpet. In the street. In front of my house, which is next door to her house. She was rude to them and they were so nice about it. I apologized to them, and to their boss, too. “Yeah, people get a little strange sometimes,” one said.

Yeah, no kidding. I’ll miss most of our neighbors — especially the Nekkid Ones — but her? I try to be a decent person and rise above it. For instance, I didn’t throw a corndog at her when she yelled at the carpet guy. I haven’t called the city on her lately. I haven’t flashed her or anything. But she still insists on throwing the toxic vibe around all the time. I will step aside and let it zing right past me, as much as I can.

You know, I won’t miss her even one little bit.

Happy Thursday, everyone.

WM

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You will find it’s never too late to plan for the rest of your life, even if you’re not going anywhere over at Grasshopper. It’s the last post I will be writing for them — life has gotten too damn busy here, and I don’t want to do it half-crocked.

Well, I would like to do it half-crocked, actually, but how can I get there on half a glass of wine? I want the entire bottle or I want nothing. Understand, heart? No, it’s okay. I’m a big girl.

I’ve found a few ways to trick myself — virgin Bloody Marys (that just sounds so wrong), herbal tea, decaf coffee.

And half a glass of wine.

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One of my girlfriends (OK, it’s Zip) sent me pix of her dream house, which is now my dream house. And I’m not talking Barbie dream house, either, I’m talking real dream house.

Sigh.

I want to have your babies, dream house. Can we hook up?

I’m thinking, have I been in this house before? Yes. It’s Carmela and Tony’s, pretty much. No wonder I feel like I’ve been there before — I have been, every week.

Now I have to go pack. The realtor from the West Side, the one who told me people associate my neighborhood with, what was it? “Crime, prostitution and drugs”? Yes, that was it. She’s been fired. Over voicemail. By guess who? The kids. I let the kids do it. Ha! Just kiddin’. Wouldn’t that have been a good one, though? Damn. I’m going to make them do the dirty work from now on.

“I’ve done enough shitwork for today.” — Reggie Dunlop (Paul Newman), in Slapshot

Dude, that’s how I feel every day. We found a new realtor who is from (wait for it…) (wait…) MASON CITY, IOWA!!! Woooooooooooooooooo-hooooooooooooooooooooooo we love you, Mason City! She is just who I needed — extremely calm, professional and from the Midwest.

Unlike me.

And she lived over here for a long while, so she knows my neighborhood.

“This is a great neighborhood, and your street is a great street,” she told me. That was the right answer. So between that, and Mason City? She’s in.

Gotta motor.

WM

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