August 29th, 2002


(no subject)

I wonder sometimes, with stupid people: are they embarrassed to be who they are? I mean, I am embarrassed to even know them and listen to them. But then I suppose one of the qualifications of being an idiot is to not realize how inane you sound to those around you.

Just venting...don't mind me. I work with some people who annoy me.

More Bathroom Drama

Ever since I painted my bathroom, it's been in a state of transition. The problem is, I'm not quite sure what I want to do with it. Or rather, I keep changing my mind.

I put up the border, and it's awesome. Very cute. Although it turns out that putting up borders is hard! Especially when you're little, like me. Balancing on stools, windowsills, toilets, sinks, etc, trying to struggle all that sticky paper into place onto a not-really-right-angled wall...well it was a challenge. But not it looks pretty okay, if you don't look at some of the corners too closely.

The real problem is the medicine cabinet. Ever since I found the medicine-cabinet-sized hole (now dubbed my "Cave"), my whole "bathroom view" changed. No longer was I satisfied with just putting it back together the way it was. I wanted a medicine cabinet. And once I wanted a medicine cabinet, then the funky plastic shelving thingy I had over the toilet looked ugly and unsuitable, and I found myself wanting to change the whole darn place.

You see, when I moved in, my house just had one tiny bathroom. Just one. No problem, except that this bathroom had no storage space whatsoever. No shelves, no drawers, no cabinets, no countertops, nothing. Just a pedestal sink, a toilet, and a tub. Nowhere to put any toiletries! How am I supposed to use a bathroom, when I don't even have a place to set my contact case while I put them in? Let alone keep daily-use items handy. So I installed a glass shelf, and a plastic over-the-toilet shelving unit. So I'd have somewhere to put stuff. That's why I was so thrilled to find the Cave, and why I wanted a medicine cabinet of my very own so badly! And once I had a medicine cabinet, well, my whole "bathroom storage concept" evolved.

Well I ended up buying two cabinets. I decided I definitely wanted the bigger one. Then I pulled it out of its box, and it turns out it's broken. The mirror, I mean, has two of its corners chipped/cracked. (Oh, and of course, it was the last one of its kind in the store.) Arrrgh!! C had come over to help me out at this point, because after the initial painting and papering (which had been a completely unexpected surprise to him), I decided I needed help figuring out what to do with my remodeling.

So I thought about using the cheaper little one, but it was really very small, with a plastic cabinet-part that just wasn't very impressive. Then C came up with the idea of removing the hinges and mirror part from the little one, and just fastening them right into the wall. Because I'd been telling him how really the Cave was very nice, and much bigger than any of the cabinets we'd found and were thinking of putting into the Cave, and I wished I could just put a mirrored door over the Cave itself, and some shelves inside it.

So we did that, only I didn't have the right size screws so it's a bit wobbly. Also, the magnet to close it isn't attached yet, so it doesn't close all the way. And the shelves aren't installed -- although we bought some nice glass ones last night for it. Still, the bathroom looks nice right now. I've hidden my toiletries (some of them) inside the Cave, and even hung some nice yellow-ceramic-flowers-on-a-piece-of-driftwood artwork on the wall. It looks great. I have more to do, but right now it looks really nice.

Which is good, because my grandmother is in town tonight from NJ. I wanted it to be put together enough that I could show it off to her and the rest of the family, since nobody other than C has seen it yet. I still have more to do, and I'm not even positive exactly how I want it to look in the end, but I'm pleased with how it looks right now at least. Yay!
  • Current Mood
    worn out!

My Bee Hive

I just got through reading this delightful journal entry about wasps, and I was reminded of my homeowner bee experience.

Last summer I was relaxing in my living-room on a particularly pleasant day, and I decided to open up the windows. I opened the front window, then I opened the side window. As I raised the window I saw, behind the glass, a small beehive. With a few bees, crawling around on it. The hive was in the space between the screen and the glass -- with bees on it! I was opening my window right into a swarm of bees!

I promptly closed the window. Fortunately, it was before any bees noticed that it had been opened.

I then studied the thing through the glass with horrified fascination. It was a pretty small hive, maybe the size of two of my fists, compactly tucked into the upper corner of the enclosure made by the screen and window pane. There were bees crawling about, just inches from my nose. A shiver ran down my spine.

You know how when you were in elementary school, and the teachers would drag you to those crazy beekeeper places? And there would be the hive, and separated from you by just a fraction of an inch of glass were masses and masses of bees, crawling and swarming around, shaking their butts, making honey, raising their young, and doing whatever the hell else bees do with their time? And you'd stare at the monstrosity, morbidly fascinated, while every hair follicle on your body stood on end? Well it was like that. Except there were only maybe 7 or 8 bees visible.

I didn't know what to do about it, so I left it there, and stopped opening that window. I certainly didn't want to come near them, and trying to get rid of the nest seemed like kind of a scary prospect. At first it was this exciting freak show, and I'd point it out to all my visitors. I'd raise the blind: "Look! I have bees in my window!" And we'd all shudder at them, then go on with our lives. Gradually though, I forgot about it. I think I'd had some vague idea of taking care of it once winter came, under the theory that the bees would be dead or hibernating or something then, and would therefore not sting me. But by the time winter came, it was forgotten.

When spring came this year, I had all of my old windows, about half the windows in the house, replaced with new ones. My sister asked me one day shortly thereafter, "Say, whatever happened with the bees in your window?" Startled, I realized that window had been replaced! I went to look, but of course there was no bee hive there. My scary bees were gone!

The poor window workers must have had to deal with it, when tearing out that old window. They never mentioned it to me...were there still bees there? Had any lived through the winter, or returned, or were born, or whatever it is that bees do in the springtime? I don't know. I hope not! I'd feel badly if they had stumbled across any living bees. I didn't see any window guys tumbling off ladders, waving their hands madly in the air at unseen attackers, so hopefully everything went fine.

At least I don't have to worry about the bees anymore...although it was a fairly expensive means of exterminating them.