Tag Archives: apartment

All I need…

1 Aug

They say Sagittarians are brutally honest people. Hmmm hmmm. Well, I wasn’t so honest about sneaking Sparky into my condo on weekends. And for this, my sun sign got the best of me and forced me to man up, confess, and beg my landlord for mercy.

When I discussed the matter with Harold, my landlord, he completely understood my situation but reminded me that I chose to rent a place that didn’t allow pets. But he’d think about it.

He called me later and told me he’d allow me to have Sparky there on weekends provided I pay $1000 more in deposit and $150 per more in rent. I told him I’d have to rethink this a bit, I mean, seriously, $150 more per month for my little 8 pound yorkie?

Then he called again. Guess his lawyer (who calls a lawyer about stuff like this anyway?) said it would be a bad investment for him and that Harold should deny my request.

Here we go again. Gotta move. Again. So not looking forward to that – I have accumulated a lot of stuff since getting my own place. And with the packing and moving we did for the cabin in May still fresh in my memory, I started thinking I’d have to consider not letting Sparky stay with me. Oh, not to mention breaking my lease would cost me a shit ton if we couldn’t sort this out.

Isn’t he the cutest motherflippin dog?

So I wrote a 5 page letter to Harold and his wife. Complete with my sob story and pictures of me with Sparky, and candids of Sparky lying in the sun and frollicking in the grass. And I reminded Harold that he asked me to rent that condo because he knows that I would keep it pristine. You know, it’s “the devil you know” angle.

It worked! He wrote back “Dear Sparky’s Mommy”, and agreed to let me have Sparky stay and even reduced the monthly rent add-on to just $50!

I’m glad I don’t have to repeat the whole moving experience. At least for now. And it turns out, which cracks me the fuck up, that Sparky, who whimpers to get me to help him up on the couch, can actually jump up on my bed when I’m not there.

That little stinker.

I heart this boy with all my love…

I’ll be picking him up for a long weekend with me tomorrow and whereas in the past, I’d worry about him when I’d leave him alone, this weekend, I’ll know he’s happy as a clam all burrowed in my pillows.

All I need right now is the warmth of his breath and the softness of his touch to make me smile.


2011 in review…

31 Dec

If this was 2011, what the fuck will 2012 have in store?

Fuckety McMutherfucker. Yes, I just said that. And it fits the year in review.

Started out 2011 proclaiming I will rock my inner Xena, not taking shit anymore and fighting with some badass gladiator heels to boot.

I had drinks with a dildo model, started questioning everything, shared a shockingly funny story involving a big ole black dong, got my stilettos posted on a vodka website, went to a charity ski event and table top danced with a hot, young actor, found out some guys think it’s perfectly okay to share erectile dysfunction over morning coffee, told everyone how I got my brother arrested, and how my friend has a dominatrix in the family.

And that was all BEFORE I ran away from home in June.

Since then, I put BoldlyMocking on hiatus and created this blog, as a way to share my rebirth.

So since I left, here’s what’s been going on:

  1. I crashed with Juli for a week
  2. I realized I didn’t just leave my husband, I left my dogs
  3. I started dating the Rockstar
  4. I moved into a room in someone’s house, without a kitchen mind you
  5. I started paying attention to everyday sounds, like traffic, and wind
  6. I realized I didn’t mind killing my own spiders, but I still don’t like it
  7. I decided I was spiritual, if you can call reading my Sagittarius horoscope spiritual
  8. I realized I hate night sweats, and errratic visits from Aunt Flo
  9. I saw my doctor about sharp pains in my head and realized I wasn’t actually crazy
  10. I got lost on a hike and realized it was okay
  11. I decided I didn’t hate cigars
  12. I wanted an urban lifestyle
  13. I decided the urban lifestyle came with drawbacks and homeless people
  14. I moved into a suburban 790 sq foot condo with out-dated appliances
  15. I defended myself against the friends who judged me unfairly
  16. I found out the hubby is dating (and she’s an ‘older-shorter-fluffy-36D-girl’)
  17. I bought some risque “stuff” online and my neighbors received it
  18. I started to find myself despite the chaos
  19. I realized the hubby is still not ready to talk to me not to mention see my face
  20. I decided I quite like that the Rockstar is living on a sailboat in the SF Bay
  21. I moved into a 790 sq foot condo with fanfuckingtastic appliances

Thanksgiving and Christmas were special to me this year. Both were relaxed events, unlike the past and as I laid my head on my Mom’s lap on Christmas night, I felt a sense of peace and calm I can’t remember ever feeling.

I’m still scared. Having been married to the hubby for almost a quarter of a century, every experience feels bittersweet. Even now as I type this, I think back to 1:45p today, when the Rockstar and I were on our way to the cabin and we passed the hubby and his girlfriend. Picture slow-mo heads turning and eyebrows raised.

If I had one word to describe 2011 it would have to be REMARKABLE.

Finding my nemo…

12 Oct

Stealing some inspiration from SingleMomDate, whose last post was a top 10 list to a happier life, I’m gonna do likewise. With the focus of course on how I’m ‘finding me’ 4 months after I split from the hubby.

You see, when I left, my goals were simple: kill my own spiders, figure out what was going to make me happy, take time for me.

The path to enlightenment is not always a straight line. OK, I do kill my own spiders (except for the Daddy Long legs in my shower, cuz he’s waaaaay up in a corner and not bothering me), but I’ve been a bit busy with setting up the new life to figure everything out – yet. Anyhoohaw, here’s what I’ve learned, my top 5 new things about me:


1. I suck at math

I am pretty enterprising. I can alter my clothes and have a great eye for things that are uneven, but don’t ask me to figure out how to hang something on a wall. Yeah, measure twice and all that bullshit, but the reality is, I have no idea how to divide uneven numbers with fractions. The putty covering my mistakes is proof of that. But while I recognize I suck at math, I now know how to hide a hole in the wall. WINNING.

2. I look for problems

It’s a strength and a weakness, but one that is necessary at work. I have business partners who are dreamers. They want to build the Taj Majal on this website and while that would be perty darned amazeballs, it will take us longer to build than it took Michaelangelo to paint the Sisteen Chapel. What I’ve learned is I’m a good forecaster and I can articulate the problems we’d need to solve. For this, I get gold stars at work. In my personal life, it’s kind of a Debbie Downer. One thing at a time babycakes.

3. I have good taste

When I decorated my big ole house, I consulted with a designer on my color palette. Earth tones and rich hues are my gig. Still are now that my condo is coming together. I’m sitting at my kitchen table (mahogany wood with 4 suede chairs – each a different color: sage, cinnamon, taupe, rust) admiring my flower arrangement which complements my table and the ‘art’ on the wall. The art is a hodge-podge of decorative plates. Yes, plates. I thought my style would be different now that I’m separated from his influences, but in reality, I have realized it was my influence the whole time. I haz good taste.

4. I like the silence

I spend a lot of time with The Rockstar and am finding that waking up early in the morning is good for me. In the past, when I’d wake up (sometimes at 4am and not able to sleep), I’d be restless and angry. And while I don’t have those stressed out early wake up calls anymore, getting up and sitting on my patio, drinking coffee while The Rockstar is sleeping is a sort of peaceful thing for me. I listen to the birds, the breeze through the trees, and reflect on me. So silence is welcome at this stage. *shhhh*

5. I don’t have to do it

I’ve been told I’m like a cat. Easily distracted and gone the next minute. I’m used to getting shit done. Right then. Oooh, laundry is ready to be folded *runs across the room*. Oooh, need to pick up my mail *grabs mail key and runs to the mailroom*. But I’ve found that it’s okay to wait. I don’t have to do everything right now. I want to paint a couple walls here but am allowing myself some time to figure out which ones and what colors. I needed to hang a shelf for my dresser lamps, but it’s okay and can wait. And while the dishes absolutely should be done shortly after using them, it’s okay to let them dry in the rack. That’s what I call learning to live in the moment.


Thinking about how my life is changing, I expected a big bang *boom* life change. It hasn’t happened. Yes, my living situation changed big bang, but me as a person, it’s happening more slowly. And that’s okay – it’s a bit like sailing I suppose. The journey requires tacking when the wind changes, correcting the course as needed, and not getting hijacked by pirates.

Ummm - Squeeeeee??

I don’t know where this journey will end, how long it will take, or what I’m gonna find along the way.

But for now, I’m just happy to set sail, find my nemo, and live happier ever after.

**I will not be defined or confined. Ever. Again.**

My personal shopper…

19 Sep

I workout every morning from 6am til 7:30a then do my Wonder Woman thing (as The Rockstar calls it) so I’m all perty girlie and work ready. I work full-time and there is always something ‘to-do’ after wards. Groceries, martini’s, dinner. Whatnot.

So I shop a LOT on line. Overstock and Amazon are my go-to sites for quick and easy purchases. And if you’re buying something well, rather personal, the delivery guy just leaves it discreetly on your porch.

That is, until you move into a condo.

You see, packages left in a doorway at a condo or apartment are subject to theft more often than those left at private residences. Good to know – NOW!

I’ve met my neighbors: Upstairs, it’s Tubby Ted and his wife (wtf is her name?!?). Next door is Jean, her hubby and their yorkie CoCo. Above them is some terribly unfriendly woman with a weinerdog.

I have no suspicions any of my neighbors would steal my packages. They all seem like fine upstanding folk.

Wipe that smile off your face, Brown...

What I do wonder however is whether any of my neighbors know what’s in packages THAT THEY SIGN FOR WHEN I’M NOT HOME. Hewl, I don’t necessarily have a problem with the UPS man knowing what I’m buying, it sorta explains the smile and urgent knock on my door. I just don’t want my neighbors to have any clue about what I’m doing. Except when I’m outside smoking a flavored cigar. Or walking around my bedroom nekkid. But that’s a story for another post.

Anyhoohaw, turns out UPS delivered something a little special today, maybe just a wee bit naughty and holy shitballs batman, fuckety fuck if Jean didn’t sign for my package.

First thought other than “fucking A, finally it shows up” is “dear lord baby hayzeus, please tell me the return label doesn’t indicate it came from Candy Land or some shit”.

I guess tonight I’ll find out if I’ve been found out.

He’s dating now…

5 Sep

This weekend the estranged hubby un-friended me on Facebook. I wasn’t surprised by this but it caught me off guard. Sorta.

I thought a lot about this yesterday and surmised it’s because he’s meeting new people women and didn’t want me seeing their online chit chat. Or maybe it’s because he didn’t want me drooling over his food porn.

For those of you who know me or him, we’re both foodies. And yes, his food is delicious and he plates it all perty like.

So it could have been that.

But I decided to ask him directly this morning. He told me he didn’t want to see my updates actually, but yes, he’s dating now. Not one particular lady apparently, but playing the field. These are my words – he kept it more succinct. “Yes, I’m dating.”

When I told my mother my suspicions yesterday, she tried to be objectively parental.

Mom: So how will you feel if he is dating?

Me: I don’t know, Mom. I kind of hope he is.

Mom: Why? This woman will take your place.

Me: I left my place three months ago. But that’s a good point. He won’t let me bring The Rockstar to the cabin…

Yes, crimson sheets...

Mom: Do you think he’s bringing women home and into your bed?

Me: It’s not my bed anymore Mom. I have a brand new, queen size, $1500 bed to prove it.

Mom: You know what I mean.

Me: {sigh} I think it’d be good for him to find a nice woman and laugh some.

Mom: It’s really over, isn’t it.

Me: Yes.

When I left, I decided to take one day at a time. Breathe some. Find me. Take pictures. Learn guitar. Sing again.

Yesterday afternoon, I’m sitting on my patio with The Rockstar and just relaxing. He’s teaching me how to relax. It’s so counter-intuitive to my very nature that I’m struggling with and warring against it. I’m just so used to being in perpetual motion.

I’m liking the “do nothing” concept. For now.

So I’m sitting on my patio, got my iPad on my lap, listening to Grace Potter and I decide to belt one out. Shitfuck, I’m out of tune. I need to practice more. But weirdly enough, singing in front of The Rockstar (even out of tune) didn’t make me feel self-conscious like it used to in front of other people. Hmm.

The past month and a half have been such a whirlwind of finding an apartment, moving in, buying furniture and basic household stuff that I’ve not given me any time to work on me.

And now that he’s dating, and as the colors begin to change in both of our lives, I can’t help but think as seasons change, and people with them, if you’re lucky you’ll find yourself awash in vivid colors and amidst people who fill your space with warmth. And laughter. Because, after all, without laughter, what’s the point?

Setting up house…

27 Aug

It’s been a week since I moved into my new 1-bedroom condo. I’ve been super busy buying stuff. Which is fun, but also tedious. This new life is starting from scratch. Yes, I took some basic kitchen items from the house, but that’s pretty much it. I had the foresight to buy a bed and had it delivered on the first day I was here, but that’s about it.

So my week has been filled with tons of online shopping. Every decision I’ve made has been made alone and feels both exciting and scary. But as I press the “BUY IT” button, I’m filled with a sense of peace that each purchase puts me closer to independence and settling into this new life.

And every time the UPS guy knocks on my door, it’s like Christmas morning here. Rubbing my hands with glee, I tear into the boxes and look at all the new shiny objects I’ve bought.

Sticker shock...

But while I’m loving buying new stuff, I also hate it. You see, I gave myself a pretty low budget to set this place up. And every time I buy something it whittles away this seed money of mine. In the past, I didn’t give a rat’s ass how much money I was spending. I wanted something, I bought it. Now, I have to actually pay attention to things like comparison shopping and putting back something I want because I’m on a budget.


But alas, I am. Instead of buying my kitchen table at Ethan Allen, I bought it at a discount furniture place. The chair legs don’t feel that sturdy, but it’s within my budget. Instead of buying teak patio furniture, I bought aluminum zero gravity chairs, which actually are kinda comfy, but not what I’m used to.

I’m not complaining though. Here’s why: I am realizing that I don’t need the things I used to have. And while I might miss my Le Cruset pots, my food tastes just as good cooked in a cheap pot. And as I look around my mostly empty condo, I start to feel like I’m home.

Post Script: I did buy two new pairs of stilettos. Cuz after all, I’m a dirty shoe whore still.

It feels right…

15 Aug

I’ve never lived alone. I married young and moved from my mother’s place to my husbands. And while I’ve been renting a room for the last couple of months, it’s just a room – no kitchen – and is part of the Valley Hillbillies house. So doesn’t qualify in my humble opinion as “living alone”.

But at long last, I found the place that I will call my home for the next year. It’s a condo close to my office and not in the biggity O (for those that have followed my urban vision quest.) My mother is happy knowing that I have reduced the chance of rape and murder. She’s optimistic this way.

Anyhoohaw, I move in this Friday and I’m getting pretty excited. I bought a brand new bed and stuff and plan to cook my first meal that night. Comcast and PG&E are ready to go so I’ll have lights and wifi! Oh, and I’m taking the Jura Capressa Impressa Z5 espresso machine from the hubby. #cuziamacoffeewhore

Possibly the biggest decision I’ll have to make is what the hell to cook for my first night there. Must decide if I splurge before Friday and buy a gas grill for the patio, because I reallyreallyreally want grilled lamb chops (marinated in good olive oil, salt, pepper, garlic, and lemon). And a greek salad. And maybe some chocolate for dessert. I can live without a couch, kitchen table and lamps on day 1 – but must have in no particular order: good food, vodka, coffee. The rest will work itself out over time.

Of course, The Rockstar offered to cook for me, cuz he haz mad skillz in the kitchen. But for my first night, I’ll be pickled and tickled and doing it for me, my way, hell yes. Rockstar can cook Saturday!! (Please and thanks!)

The idea of my very own place, with just me in it, fills me with satisfaction and fear. It’s been a rocky couple of weeks, with the reality of my separation settling in and warring against the newness of not being married and dependent. I’ve been making a good number of decisions lately based on instinct. I’ve been saying “you just know”. I think people need to listen to themselves more and stop questioning so much.

My life. One day at a time. It just feels right.