Tuesday, June 27, 2006

As Always...

...I have two articles due today, so I'm blogging.

Also, I'm sick. I spent the morning and afternoon sleeping and alternately sweating and chilling. I hurt all over. You know the kind that even touching your scalp hurts? This is the time that I miss having a maid--someone to wash the pots and pans from last Saturday's dinner party (it was The Beloved Hubby's birthday!) and do crap patrol and feed the pets and all that. I was about to prepare breakfast, but I became too woozy and took a nap on the couch instead. Lunch was Hot Onion Noodle Soup. Am so glad The Hubby prepared his own lunch. Then an attempt to work on my articles, but got too woozy, so slept on the couch again. Now I feel slightly better, but my brain cells are not working. *sigh*

On to the good news though. We finally found a house! After a month of searching and a couple of near-hits, we have a cute little house. I've always noticed that house when we pass by Main. It's painted yellow. I love yellow. When we finally saw the inside, it wasn't love at first sight the way it was with our current house here on Belvedere. But The Hubby and I could see the potential.

The new house is about a third of the size of our current house--but at half the rent! So that's a lot of savings. But that means we really have to get rid of a lot of stuff. I'm a packrat by nature, so I find it hard to get rid of stuff (you'll never know when you'll need to refer to that 1996 issue of Time magazine, and perhaps someday, I will still fit into my size 26 skinny jeans). So it's time for a garage sale. Now, what to sell? What to bring? I measured the new house, and I still don't know what to bring. I suppose I have to measure our current furniture and see what will fit.

A lot of the stuff I have are also of sentimental value. The very first couch and table that I bought. The TV cabinet that my papa made with his own hands more than 20 years ago. My wicker hope chest that I'm supposed to pass on to my daughter. And my books! All the books that I still keep going back to, that I'm saving for my reading room project.


The other semi-good news is, there's enough space to bring the dogs. But The Hubby is adamant about not letting them set paw in the house. I suppose they'll get used to it. And more importantly, I will get used to it. I like having the dogs underfoot, always ready for a cuddle break. Now I have to design a dog house that will meet my requirements. It has to be easy to clean--so maybe a tiled floor? Then the roof has to sort of insulated (correct term?) so when it's raining it doesn't sound like a drum inside (and terrify The Boo). And maybe it should have a ceiling so that it doesn't go into temperature extremes. Then maybe it has to look like a couch, since the dogs simply adore staying on the couch, and if the house looks like one, it will encourage them to stay there. Then it also has to look nice on the outside, so it won't be an eyesore from the road, since we're putting the dogs in the front. Hmm. Any architects or interior designers out there up to the challenge of creating the perfect dog house?


More on the house. I think our current house has spoiled us for anything else. The bathrooms here are beautifully tiled, with on-the-higher-end fixtures. The ground floor is marble, as is my kitchen counter. I have more than enough space (hence more than enough kalat), lots of cabinets and shelves and mirrors. The new house has vinyl floors, the kitchen counter is tiny and the bathrooms leave a lot to be desired. Only one nice cabinet to speak of, the one in the front bedroom that we will turn into an office. But the cut is nice, it's still bright and airy--and it's yellow! I suppose you can't go wrong with a yellow house.

Our contact starts on July 15, so we have a little more than two weeks to sort through stuff, to sell, give away or keep things, pack the stuff we'll keep, and start moving. I'm excited, and a bit overwhelmed. This isn't like when The Hubby and I moved in together after getting married, where we just hauled over our his-and-hers. Now it's a joint venture. It feels weird.


Uh oh. Getting woozy again. But really must work. Life goes on, even when you're sick. :(

Friday, June 16, 2006

8 Things

Tagged by Stef. Might as well.

Eight things about me:

1. Sometimes I doubt if I can really write. Sure, I can string words together, sometimes prettily. But will it ever be worth anything, my writing? Will it ever make a dent somewhere?

2. I think of all things in the world, what I am most afraid of is humiliation. I don't like looking stupid. I don't like to fail (at least publicly). It's a pride thing.

3. I get attached. To people, to things, to places. Which is why I don't adapt to change quickly and with grace. Or why I sometimes have a hard time to forgive and forget.

4. My full name is Rita Angelita II. I prefer to be called by my nickname, Rheea (note the double "e"). I like my nick-nickname better, Ree (three letters only, no "h"). But what I liked best was what my older brother used to call me: Ee (hmm...that looks funny spelled out).

5. While we're on the topic of names, I like giving people nicknames. I like naming things. I like thinking of names for other people's kids. I like naming the pets (that's why most of our 30 fish had names). My plants used to have names. I bought a 30,000-entry baby name book, even when I had no intention of having babies.

6. And speaking of babies, The Hubby and I have been thinking about it. I'd like to have twins--a boy and a girl--so it's over in one go. We have the name for the boy already. The girl--The Hubby has vetoed several of my suggestions, and I've vetoed his. Maybe that's why we're not pregnant yet, we can't agree on a name (or it could be due to the raincoats ;p).

7. When I was growing up, my ultimate career goal was to be a salesgirl in National Bookstore. I mean--wow! You work surrounded by all those books! Then my mom dashed my dreams when she said that the salesgirls aren't allowed to read while on duty. If I had my own bookstore, I'd encourage my staff to read, even during work hours (of course, not to the point of ignoring their other duties), so they can discuss and recommend books to customers. In fact, I'd only hire people who can't live without reading.

8. And finally, there are times I like being alone. The Hubby has started a Friday night cell with his ex-officemates, and so I've been enjoying my Friday nights, with just the dogs for company. I can eat cornflakes for dinner or whip up pasta or even not eat at all! I can just curl up in bed with a book, or listen to myself think. I can visit my sister in law down the block. I can blog!

The possibilities are endless. To anyone who wants to be tagged, consider yourself tagged. Just let me know when you're doing this.

Friday, June 09, 2006

Funky Town

I'm in a funk. A slump. A down cycle. A bad-hair-fat-ass-nothing-to-wear day.

Maybe it's my tummy--eating the usual amount of food makes me feel like throwing up, like I can feel the food just down my throat. But even if I feel like puking, I'm hungry. Argh. I rarely get tummy problems. I am blessed with a tummy of steel (heavily padded on the outside).

Or it could be the fact that it's mid-June and we haven't found a house to move to yet and we have to be out of here by the end of June.

Or it could be the fact that I am not that happy with my current money-generating gigs. In the perfect world, I would be sitting by my floor-to-ceiling glass window overlooking the sea (yes, the window is attached to a house), and I would be typing away on my high tech laptop (at this point, I'll settle for a laptop that has batteries, and does not need to be plugged in all the time), effortlessly creating brilliant articles and stories that the publishing houses are bidding for. But nooooo. I must live in this world. Where somehow I have morphed from a PR writer into an all around something who does almost everything except be the model in one of these events that I am merely supposed to write about and not produce. Of course if I were the model then we would be back in the perfect world, and that's beside the point.

Or it could be the fact that The Hubby (thank you Lord for him) has said that I can resign from my PR gig, but I am hesitant to do so because I know The Hubby will have to pick up the financial slack and as it is he is way too stressed with our finances and I don't want to add to that. And how selfish can I be wanting to resign in the middle of a financial crisis just because I'm unhappy. But I have been wanting to quit this PR gig for the past three years and I never could because I need the money.

Or it could be the fact that The Hubby won't tolerate the dogs inside the house anymore, and I can't bear to see them outside. So I am torn between finding them a new home where they will be loved and allowed in the house, and keeping them and making sure they stay outside. And if I do keep them, then we'd have to find a house that has ample space outside for them because NO WAY am I going to tie them up or keep them in cages. And that means it would be a more expensive house. And if I decide to find homes for them, then who will take them? The Boo isn't a problem; several people want him. As my friend Juddy Baby said, The Boo gets by on charm and good looks. It's Chloe who will be hard to place. She's a bigger dog, and she's a needy one--she needs lots of love and attention. And she sometimes gets into trouble because she loves rummaging through trash and just this morning she ate The Hubby's omelette right off the table. Evil dog. But she's very malambing and loyal. My sister in law said she'd take them both in, with The Boo inside the house and Chloe outside, but free to roam. I'm OK with that but I don't know if they can handle Chloe. She doesn't get wild, but she is needy, so she whines for attention and I know my brother doesn't like her too much. Both Chloe and Boo are gentle dogs, great with kids and very tolerant (kids can even ride on Chloe). If I do give them away, who's going to love me unconditionally with all-out devotion, no matter what?

Or it could be the fact that we are moving house and I have to pack all over again, and then unpack. I don't like packing and unpacking. It means that we have to sort through all this stuff that we've accumulated. The Hubby wants to get rid of stuff. What do we get rid of?

Or it could be the fact that at the moment I have no money. I can't even treat myself to McNuggets with honey mustard sauce and Twister Fries if I wanted to. Or Holy Kettle Corn. Or books or magazines. Or even new shampoo-even-when-the-current-bottle-is-still-half-full because this one is making my scalp itch.

Or it could be the fact that I know that I am having myself a pity party and I don't feel like calling it off (the invitations have been sent) and I know I should.

Or maybe it's the fact that 60% of the population won't even know the song "Funky Town". Argh. I am getting grumpy in my old age.