Today VH1 ran a program called "And You Don't Stop: 30 Years of Hip Hop"
It was a five-parter and I believe it went on all day long.
I must say, despite some of the razzing I've seen online, I actually learned something about the history of hip-hop. I always wondered about it but kind of never knew where to look. I think if you're not terribly keen on the music but would like to know more about its history, this series is really a great start. Especially the first few episodes where they really get into how scratching and mc'ing and sampling got started. It's an amazing evolution and it deserves respect at the very least.
Spencer could have cared less. Maybe I should try to learn how to beatbox.
Thursday, July 21, 2005
Threes and Throes
Tomorrow (well, today now since it's after midnight) we settle and close.
Packing hasn't been stellar on my part, but I've been wheedling away at it with some consistency despite Spencer's new found love of my left hand for use in walking. I will pat myself on the back for getting ALL the utilities switched or started, plus I bought us a new washer and dryer AND the custom closets I'd been lobbying for since we made the offer back in May.
So we're grooving along and then we almost had major meltdown today. Here's the rundown:
1. The title insurance company was apparently demanding an original of a power of attorney release we needed for settlement. Noone told us until this morning. Guy had to do a mad scramble to get that resolved and there was much ranting back and forth about our dilemma via AOL Instant Messenger. Without the document, we were being posed with the possibility of postponing settlement/closing and having to add financial burden.
2. We did the walk through on our new house. Mostly going well until I walked down the stairs into the basement and immediately smelled must/mildew. Recent rains had not properly been routed away from the house and it had seeped through the walls. The 1950's wood paneling was stinkin and the old asbestos laden floor tiles (not toxic I'm told) were soaked. The unfinished area also had water seepage. SO, bye bye big plans for kitchen renovation...
3. On the way home, Guy discovered that the estimate we were given for funds needed for closing was off by close to twenty percent. Not only bye bye kitchen, bye bye all money, period. I immediately began thinking about the fastest way to start earning money. When you're in what you perceive to be a hurry to earn money, the solutions you imagine are not necessarily logical or appropriate.
So, cut to me later on the phone with my mom, whining about the state we're in. I confess to her that I'm expecting something else to go wrong; the sting of the day's two major events still lingering.
"Things happen in threes," I tell her, knocking on every REAL piece of wood I can find (don't be fooled by melamine) and telling her I'm knocking on wood.
Why do I do that? How did I get superstitious? Is superstition a replacement for religious faith? The belief in something outside of your sphere of control that you have to accept unless you can somehow sidestep it or behave your way out of it? And the almost obsessive compulsive knocking on wood, while pacing around the house talking to my mother: You'd think I was a mental patient. If Spencer gets into this pacing thing, we're going to have to switch floors with him.
My mother was a rock for me.
"You already had three things happen though!"
"What is the third?" I squealed.
" The estimates -taxes thing you told me about. That's the third thing, so it should all be fine now."
"Whew, ok"
I knocked on wood again. It's pretty easy to do in my house actually. Guy is a big fan of real wood furniture.
I can't swing a dead tree without hitting real wood.
So we're past that trauma for now.
Guy went to bed early. It's our last Wednesday night in Overbrook Farms.
I can't believe we're moving. Guy has lived here for fourteen years, almost to the day we move, and he's less emotional about leaving than I am, and I am the one who pushed for the move to begin with.
I'll be driving around the area and I realize I will no longer be taking certain shortcuts home from Center City anymore. I won't be going to the same Genuardi's or Borders or 7-11s. I won't be taking the same drives into Ardmore- to Bella Italia - the best pizza I know of in Philadelphia except for somewhere in Southwest Philly (Kennerly help me out here!). No more competing Korean convenience stores down the street. No more Chinese and steaks within walking distance. No more easy walk to train station. Wah.
On the other hand...I also won't have the same pain in the arse drives to malls and Target. Infact, we'll have access to every major store I can think of, with the exception of Wal-Mart(I am so bummed. NOT). I'm sure there's one I don't know about yet. AND, let us not forget the trains rumbling past the house, the track crews honking horns and yelling at 2 in the morning. Also there are the buses, the drunk college students and their cars, and the traffic that's increased by probably twenty percent in the last year.
Overall, I'll grieve. It's inevitable. Especially when our washer and dryer aren't hooked up and I have to wash my clothes in a tub and hang them outside...
Here's to hopefully having DSL sooner than August 9!!!!!
I'm sure I'll be trying to write in here from a dial up. NICE.
Then again, I'll have a driveway.
Suburbia, I hope you're ready for the Vilims.
Packing hasn't been stellar on my part, but I've been wheedling away at it with some consistency despite Spencer's new found love of my left hand for use in walking. I will pat myself on the back for getting ALL the utilities switched or started, plus I bought us a new washer and dryer AND the custom closets I'd been lobbying for since we made the offer back in May.
So we're grooving along and then we almost had major meltdown today. Here's the rundown:
1. The title insurance company was apparently demanding an original of a power of attorney release we needed for settlement. Noone told us until this morning. Guy had to do a mad scramble to get that resolved and there was much ranting back and forth about our dilemma via AOL Instant Messenger. Without the document, we were being posed with the possibility of postponing settlement/closing and having to add financial burden.
2. We did the walk through on our new house. Mostly going well until I walked down the stairs into the basement and immediately smelled must/mildew. Recent rains had not properly been routed away from the house and it had seeped through the walls. The 1950's wood paneling was stinkin and the old asbestos laden floor tiles (not toxic I'm told) were soaked. The unfinished area also had water seepage. SO, bye bye big plans for kitchen renovation...
3. On the way home, Guy discovered that the estimate we were given for funds needed for closing was off by close to twenty percent. Not only bye bye kitchen, bye bye all money, period. I immediately began thinking about the fastest way to start earning money. When you're in what you perceive to be a hurry to earn money, the solutions you imagine are not necessarily logical or appropriate.
So, cut to me later on the phone with my mom, whining about the state we're in. I confess to her that I'm expecting something else to go wrong; the sting of the day's two major events still lingering.
"Things happen in threes," I tell her, knocking on every REAL piece of wood I can find (don't be fooled by melamine) and telling her I'm knocking on wood.
Why do I do that? How did I get superstitious? Is superstition a replacement for religious faith? The belief in something outside of your sphere of control that you have to accept unless you can somehow sidestep it or behave your way out of it? And the almost obsessive compulsive knocking on wood, while pacing around the house talking to my mother: You'd think I was a mental patient. If Spencer gets into this pacing thing, we're going to have to switch floors with him.
My mother was a rock for me.
"You already had three things happen though!"
"What is the third?" I squealed.
" The estimates -taxes thing you told me about. That's the third thing, so it should all be fine now."
"Whew, ok"
I knocked on wood again. It's pretty easy to do in my house actually. Guy is a big fan of real wood furniture.
I can't swing a dead tree without hitting real wood.
So we're past that trauma for now.
Guy went to bed early. It's our last Wednesday night in Overbrook Farms.
I can't believe we're moving. Guy has lived here for fourteen years, almost to the day we move, and he's less emotional about leaving than I am, and I am the one who pushed for the move to begin with.
I'll be driving around the area and I realize I will no longer be taking certain shortcuts home from Center City anymore. I won't be going to the same Genuardi's or Borders or 7-11s. I won't be taking the same drives into Ardmore- to Bella Italia - the best pizza I know of in Philadelphia except for somewhere in Southwest Philly (Kennerly help me out here!). No more competing Korean convenience stores down the street. No more Chinese and steaks within walking distance. No more easy walk to train station. Wah.
On the other hand...I also won't have the same pain in the arse drives to malls and Target. Infact, we'll have access to every major store I can think of, with the exception of Wal-Mart(I am so bummed. NOT). I'm sure there's one I don't know about yet. AND, let us not forget the trains rumbling past the house, the track crews honking horns and yelling at 2 in the morning. Also there are the buses, the drunk college students and their cars, and the traffic that's increased by probably twenty percent in the last year.
Overall, I'll grieve. It's inevitable. Especially when our washer and dryer aren't hooked up and I have to wash my clothes in a tub and hang them outside...
Here's to hopefully having DSL sooner than August 9!!!!!
I'm sure I'll be trying to write in here from a dial up. NICE.
Then again, I'll have a driveway.
Suburbia, I hope you're ready for the Vilims.