6/08/2011
Magnificent Crouton
We boot a hoose!
Let me take a moment to explain what happens when you buy a house...
1. First...you take several muscle relaxers.
2. Then, you work up the courage to sign your life away / become deeply in debt. It helps if the agent says something like, "I double dog dare you to sign that."
3. Because you are now very poor and can't afford real entertainment, you sit on the floor of an empty room with a tv propped up on a cardboard box and tune in to HGTV 23hours per day.
4. From your steady diet of home improvement shows and ramen on toast, you begin to realize that many HGTV shows are filmed in Canada. In Canada, eh, they say things like "boot" instead of "bought" and "hoose" instead of "house."
5. You start telling people you "boot a hoose." You find this hilarious.
6. You thoughtfully explain what the devil you're talking about.
There you have it. Six simple steps. We boot a hoose.
Our house is new construction, and as such, requires plenty of silly little decisions to be made.
Maybe it's all of the HGTV that I've been watching, or perhaps it's the muscle relaxers...but I'm actually starting to develop an opinion about home decor. This is especially odd coming from the woman who (just six short years ago) shrugged her shoulders after finding mouse poop in the silverware drawer. (I see you. You there on your high horse...being all judgemental about mouse poop in the silverware drawer. Listen...it was grad school. I was eating ketchup sandwiches. Silverware was available for my use, but typically not required).
I don't know if Seth and I are considered hipsters, yuppies, guppies, trannies, or whatever...but I do know what I won't tolerate in my new home...
Synopsis of actual events:
"How DARE you use domestic marble in my foyer. I want my marble imported from somewhere far away! Now begone! Lest my decorative IKEA bamboo stalks find your backside!"
So that's a half-truth. I actually get lost in decisions like these. The selling agent asked me to close my eyes and imagine my dream kitchen....
Agent: "Now...what do the cabinets look like?"
Kerry: "They're made of some kind of wood. They have knobs."
Agent: "Do the doors have bevels?"
Kerry: "Do the doors have bevels? That seems oddly specific for one of my dreams."
My dream kitchen is the one that sells our house six years from now. Not romantical, but true.
We boot a hoose. It's all good fun, nonetheless.
P.S. The color of our hallway tile is actually called "Magnificent Crouton," which will also serve as the name of my future rock band.
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Let me take a moment to explain what happens when you buy a house...
1. First...you take several muscle relaxers.
2. Then, you work up the courage to sign your life away / become deeply in debt. It helps if the agent says something like, "I double dog dare you to sign that."
3. Because you are now very poor and can't afford real entertainment, you sit on the floor of an empty room with a tv propped up on a cardboard box and tune in to HGTV 23hours per day.
4. From your steady diet of home improvement shows and ramen on toast, you begin to realize that many HGTV shows are filmed in Canada. In Canada, eh, they say things like "boot" instead of "bought" and "hoose" instead of "house."
5. You start telling people you "boot a hoose." You find this hilarious.
6. You thoughtfully explain what the devil you're talking about.
There you have it. Six simple steps. We boot a hoose.
Our house is new construction, and as such, requires plenty of silly little decisions to be made.
Maybe it's all of the HGTV that I've been watching, or perhaps it's the muscle relaxers...but I'm actually starting to develop an opinion about home decor. This is especially odd coming from the woman who (just six short years ago) shrugged her shoulders after finding mouse poop in the silverware drawer. (I see you. You there on your high horse...being all judgemental about mouse poop in the silverware drawer. Listen...it was grad school. I was eating ketchup sandwiches. Silverware was available for my use, but typically not required).
I don't know if Seth and I are considered hipsters, yuppies, guppies, trannies, or whatever...but I do know what I won't tolerate in my new home...
Synopsis of actual events:
"How DARE you use domestic marble in my foyer. I want my marble imported from somewhere far away! Now begone! Lest my decorative IKEA bamboo stalks find your backside!"
So that's a half-truth. I actually get lost in decisions like these. The selling agent asked me to close my eyes and imagine my dream kitchen....
Agent: "Now...what do the cabinets look like?"
Kerry: "They're made of some kind of wood. They have knobs."
Agent: "Do the doors have bevels?"
Kerry: "Do the doors have bevels? That seems oddly specific for one of my dreams."
My dream kitchen is the one that sells our house six years from now. Not romantical, but true.
We boot a hoose. It's all good fun, nonetheless.
P.S. The color of our hallway tile is actually called "Magnificent Crouton," which will also serve as the name of my future rock band.
