Bathrooom(s)

I've reached a temporary stopping point in the bathroom. When I get back from Dad's, I'll put a slightly-smaller vanity and sink in order to give a little more breathing room. And I'll still have to put new baseboard in, sink hardware, drawer handles, and tile. But for now: servicable. This week I'll be helping Dad finish his master bath. Have a good week!

The Bathroom Update

I'm now focused on returning the bathroom to servicability.

The Closet

I'm really close to completing this project. I need two more hanging-rods (including an extra-long one) and baseboards. It feels mighty good to have Alison's clothes in the closet again. Sympathetic goodness, as I can feel her stress level lower.

I anticipated using a small bench as a stool in there, but as soon as I started 'unpacking' I realized it's actually for standing on to get to the top shelf.





I admittedly didn't enjoy this project too much. I didn't like the way it was going throughout the whole thing. But, in a late comeback, the finished product is making up for the unhappy labor.
But I've always liked the way the shoe-rack looked. I think that's the high-light.

Asphyxia (updated)

The closet is now taking a month more time than I'd planned. And the clock is still running.

I had a box fan pointing directly away from the closet, the ceiling fans on full-blast, and all the windows open. I'm guessing that with all the shelving surface area, it didn't matter how much ventilation I had. Imagine me, a G.I. Joe figurine in a canoe, actually in the paint can, lid closed. Now leave me there for 5 hours. That's how it really was.

But I am past that now, and nearly completed painting. One more coat! Here's how it looked this afternoon:

The Life-Onion

I got the prototype Penny-Message in my voicemail a few days back. Here's how it went:

"Tom, I've got two meetings today,

and all my deadlines are Wednesday.

I feel like my life is unraveling before me.

Call me back."

I thought exactly, our lives are peeling back one day at a time. That's the way it is. I am always working towards something. That's nature right? But what I need to keep myself from doing is expecting to live later. I need to recognize that today is Day Month, Year in the one life I have.

What do we do with the days we're given? Sit in front of this computer screen, perusing around the net in a familiar state of boredom? Sit even more in front of a TV? Or from the other end of the spectrum, do we work our fingers to the bone? Spend days 'getting somewhere?' Now I am thinking it doesn't matter. REALLY. It doesn't. Here's what I think matters:

Letting your shoulders relax while you're doing whatever you're doing. Stop holding your forehead muscles tight. Breathe a little more deeply. Be here now. Don't be next week or last year. I for-real just caught myself with tense shoulders.

Follow along if you'd like or quit reading now, but here are more thoughts:

Which memories are your most prominent? I have memories of days spent on the water. I have memories of car-wrecks and 10k's. I have memories of getting my butt chewed at boot camp (Officer's Candidate School). I have a prominent memory of proposing to Alison. I have good memories of camping and lighting fireworks. I have memories of traveling with friends.

I do not remember all the TV shows I've seen. I do remember going to drive-in movies. I do not remember writing a lot of these posts, but I can remember writing poetry and lyrics in New Orleans. I do not recall the details of each project I've completed on the house, but I sure remember having a beer and being happy each was done. The memories I remember are ones where I was there. Not thinking about next week. Not thinking about old wounds.

Okay, now my thoughts are going too fast to keep in a logical sequence. Signing off, T.

Notes on Confidence

Listening to Penny's Podcast interview really made me think about confidence as a concept. Here are some of the thoughts that popped into my head:

Immediately I think of my basketball downfall - lack of defense. I was confident that I could simply score MORE than any opponent. Okay, so that's over-confidence. I digress.

Confidence and faith. They're close neighbors.

Confidence is a thing you may not know you have, like something in your teeth.

Confidence is a willingness to lose. It's a maturity that tells you 'it'll be fine in the end.'

Confidence is a hard thing to learn, and it's darn near impossible to teach, but it's important to learn. The only way to teach it is to teach a person to become aware of themselves. Good parenting helps, and is never too late.

Confidence is does not span across venues. Because I am confident with a saw, does not mean I am confident with different forks at a formal dinner. However, I've learned that I can learn. And that's confidence too, right?

Finally, confidence can be false, but if you're willing to throw a mud-ball at a bully in false-confidence, chances are he/she won't know the difference. And if you're willing to take the pounding, you've just BECOME more confident.

On a side note, it's interesting how things grow. Illustration Friday grew huge out of a simple idea for weekly posting. It's essentially an art exercise, just like stretching. Along the similar lines, song writers never can tell which songs will be successful. We really do not know which spitballs stick.

Night Shift: Pro and Con

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Originally uploaded by This Cat Tom.

Pro: 12-5 PM where I get un-interrupted house-workin'-on time.

Con: 12-5 AM where I can barely keep my eyes from shutting.

Click on the photo to see the closet/bathroom work.

Wind-blown and Sun-dried

This post is about a feeling I got on the way to work tonight. But to get there, I need to fill you in on the day. We took the boat out shortly before noon today. It ran great, and the sun was bright. The wind was hard and crisp. But it was 80 degrees, so it wasn't cold. We parked on the sand bar, chatted with friends and watched dogs chase frisbees. We returned to the boat ramp at absolute low tide. After a few fumbles at getting the boat straight on the trailer, I found myself driving under big trees, the sun fluttering between new leaves. When we got home, I went through my post-trip ritual, first hooking the earmuffs on the outboard and running all the salt out of the motor. Then I washed the boat. After a nap, I re-covered the boat and hid it away under the carport. Alison had dinner ready shortly after sun-down. And that brings us to tonight.

The wind went away with the sun, I guess, because on the drive to work, I noticed absolutely still palm trees underneath the orange street lights. There is a peace tonight, marked by that stillness. Kids are in their livingrooms playing videogames. Dogs are asleep on the couch. Everything is as it should be, including my sunburnt shoulders. I tried to think of a song that was fitting. BNL - Baby Seat. Great song, maybe my favorite of late, but the one that might be playing is "Damn it feels good to be a gangster" by the Geto Boys. In Office Space, that song plays as Ron Livingston finds an inner peace. Yeah it's corny. But it works. Gangster-me under the palm trees on a hot night in March.

Thanks for dinner, Alison.

News and America's Great Trajedy

I have tomorrow off. I completely need it. The question is: what do I do with it?

The first consideration is always weather. Then there's personal considerations, such as house chores, personal need for downtime, etc.

If you've looked at the weather, you can see that it's 77 tomorrow, but windy. Sunday is supposed to be 80 and sunny. I've got the bathroom still in shambles. I've got the closet 1/4th built. I've got a good week's worth of work left on the two. And it's becoming more of a nuisance to have clothes strewn across the other two bedrooms.

So I'll work. Even if I want to relax. Cause I'll relax afterwards. I'll take a long break from working on the house.

But there-in lies America's trajedy. Take Ted. Ted can do anything. The ways he can do anything are still set. IE, he'll have to make money to buy a fast car, if that's what he wants. He must work or scheme to make money. La-dee-dah. But there's choices. America's freedom allows Ted to choose. Ted chooses.

From weekend plans and types of beer, to careers and the area in which Ted lives. The choices become daunting. They were more daunting when there were more choices. Coming out of HighSchool or college, Ted had simply too many choices to be able to choose. So he's still choosing. And choosing is a choice. Waiting is a choice. We all choose.

Want to be a rock star? Get playing the guitar, Ted. Want to play baseball? Better get your mit out. Want to get a wife and have kids? Better choose wisely. Better work on that relationship with the one you've chosen.

And so the trajedy of Ted and America. There's one life. There's one chance. There's millions of choices. So Ted chooses. So I choose to work on my closet.

Weekend News

Dad and I took a trip to Naples this weekend. It was fun. When I walked in, Grandma and Grandpa were taking their dining-room chairs with Vernon, a friend from downstairs. They were just about at the point to re-apply new fabric, and were looking baffled. I was able to help them out and take over the re-upholstery.

Vernon and Luetta (Lu-Lu) are from North Dakota. Vernon is a retired AF LtCol. He was the state's liaison officer for the reserves. That's a weird billet. Oh, and it was Dad's first time meeting Lu-Lu, afterwards he asked "Does she have an affliction or had she had too much wine?" I laughed. I remember Penny asking the same question. I replied that she just has an amazing outlook on life and likes to play the high-maintenance funny-ness role. Good times. Flip of the hair, an electric ice-cube that changes colors, and simply raving about her egg-plant appetizer. Not a care in the world.

I didn't do much last night. I was completely wiped out.
Hope everyone's work week goes better than mine's began. BUSY BUSY BUSY.

Guys and Girls? Never Friends.

I've been talking to Alison about this lately, and we've come to the conclusion that guys and gals can never be true friends. One of the parties in the friendship always has an alterior motive. A crush. A liking that is not acceptable to their object of affection (in friendship's disguise)'s significant other.

Try to prove me wrong. Each one of my former girl-friends has ended in disaster. Eventually, someone develops a crush and tries to push things. Alison too. Her guy-friends ended the same way.

Plus there's this theory: that the friendship revolves around the secret knowledge that the other likes you. Yep! That's what fuels the friendship. It's flirting with disaster really. One example is this guy Alison used to get a ride back from college with. Her former boyfriend, and one of my friends, didn't like this guy because he knew that said-name-driver liked Alison. And years later, Alison admits she knew it.

So to all you dudes and chicks, beware. Be honest about it. OH, and one last thing: the longer you're married, the lesser this rule CAN apply. There may be actual friendships between genders, but be wary and judgmental in distinguishing. Many relationships falter from misidentification.

So I said my theory, and then took it back, all in the same post.