Category Archives: domestica

To a Deeee-luxe Apartment in the Sky

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Since our last episode of Neighbors Who Suck, I have moved.  I loved my view and I will miss it, but after much soul (and apartment) searching, I found a place and gave my notice. I just couldn’t take one more midnight wildebeast dance party or one more liason with the snatch banshee next door.

My last place was probably one of the “coolest” placed I’d ever lived, in terms of hipness. For the most part, I’d lived in larger complexes that were fairly organized, well-maintained and suburban (though I did my fair share of couch surfing and car sleeping in my late teens and 20′s).  The last place was an old vintage building that I loved so much and the area was close to downtown and had a beautiful view.  It was a “cool” place to live, in terms of the area of town.

When GFI lived upstairs, it was fun — we had a good time and socialized fairly regularly, though we were always sensitive to the other’s need for space. But when she moved, aside from the view, there was really no reason to stay.  Now that I have Lulu, I needed a bit more space and I started to feel my stuff closing in on me.  Plus, with all the turnover in the building, the other tenants, newer tenants, live a “younger” lifestyle than I do (late nights, lots of noise, unpredictable schedules, Miller Lite for chrissake). Not that I’m old, but I’m certainly not twenty-four anymore and we were all just a little too close for comfort. Continue reading →

Godzilla, Lord of the Dance

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I figured I’d blog today… you know, to give a update to the patient people who still keep up with this blog or who don’t follow me tweets.  Matey.  That should have said “my tweets”, but we have this thing where if we typo “me (something)” we follow it with “matey”, no matter what.  So I did and… well, now you know.

For those who don’t know, I’m moving out of my apartment in a week and a half.  I am really going to miss Casa Cocktail and all the good things about it, but lately the crap has started to outweigh the good things.  To start, Slick (a.k.a. Guitar Hero) picked up the electric guitar and bass as a hobby, which he played  every day at 4pm for 2-3 hours.  Is it not bad enough that his girlfriend made sex sounds like a caffeinated baboon, he had to fancy himself The Edge at least 5 days a week?  But… a blessing!  He moved out in April and took Ape Escape with him.

But then, GFI moved out.  I don’t know who the hell she thinks she is just moving out and having a life and stuff. I mean, god, lady. Don’t you know everything revolves around my happiness?  Obviously I’m kidding, but I miss her as a neighbor.  She never made a peep, we were BNF: Best Neighbors Forever.  I could text if she needed help when I heard she might’ve dropped something, she could text me to ask if I had margarita mix, we could sit on the patio and gossip about the neighborhood and I never, ever had to hear her pee. Continue reading →

Fickle

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So… I changed my mind about doing a session at BlogHer.  I would rather do something with Kathy and since she can’t be there this time, we’ll wait until next year.  A 30-minute session is pretty darn short to cover much that requires actual instruction, at least from a design standpoint, which is why I wanted to make it more of a “conversation with the Moxie Girls” — a place to just hang out, dish and answer questions about blogging and design.  But, despite the positive response it got, there was also a little confusion, so I think it’s better to just go this year to get a vibe of what the attendees want out of a session.

I was also kind of unclear about how BlogHer handles the submissions and presenters. It would be perhaps several weeks, if not a couple months before I even heard if my panel was chosen, and since it doesn’t appear that speakers get free admission (like SXSW), I wanted to make sure I got my ticket before “early bird pricing” passed me by.  Then I decided if I was going to pay for my ticket, I didn’t really want to be anxious about presenting, too.  Despite my gregarious nature, I get a little nervous speaking in front of groups… alone.   I want to enjoy myself, network, sign some books (I’m working on setting up a signing with our publisher) and mingle with all them fine ladies. :-) Continue reading →

Pressing Matters

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I have gone on many, many times about my quest for the perfect coffeemaker. I’ve gone through several since I started blogging.  Each time I griped about this coffeemaker or that, someone would tell me to get a French press and  I would politely decline.

A French press? How can I possibly achieve that hot, delicious fresh-brewed cup of joe without a coffeemaker? Pour water in, press it down, voila! Great coffee?  Nooo… surely they must be mistaken. In case you hadn’t noticed, I can be quite stubborn.

My Coffee PressSo how, you might ask, did I end up not only purchasing, but loving my new French press?   A desire for better aesthetics in my kitchen.   Hey, all things can’t be noble. Sometimes you just want things to look pretty.

GFI and I have identical kitchens since she lives directly above me.  We have them set up similarly, too, because we’re dorks like that and we took cues about what worked and what didn’t in each other’s space. For example, we both have our microwaves on top of the refrigerator to save space and we both have tiny lamps scattered around the kitchen for more ambient lighting because we hate the overhead fluorescents. My issue was that GFI’s kitchen always seemed so much cleaner and brighter to me. Same amount of lamps  (two small IKEA colored numbers), pretty much the same amount of stuff on the counter… what gives?

The difference?  GFI no longer had her coffeemaker on the counter. I, on the other hand, still had my big black Mr. Coffee (which doesn’t make very good coffee anyway and chirps annoyingly).  She sang the praises of the coffee press, insisting it produced the most delicious coffee and insisted I go buy one with the Starbucks giftcard she got me for Christmas.

So, for once, I actually did what I was told. I caved in and bought a French press gift set the very next morning on holiday clearance and it was the best thing I ever did.  Coffee-wise, anyway.

It’s easy, it takes no time (4 minutes!), little energy, it’s quiet (which ideal first thing in the morning), I get just the right amount of coffee and the flavor is beyond compare. It’s almost creamy the way it foams and creates this rich froth on the top.  I also have to heavily endorse my new favorite Starbucks blend, Sumatra Extra Bold (press grind).  It makes the most delicious cup, in my opinion, though I have an arsenal of coffee in my cabinet to try. You can use an all-purpose grind, though so far I’ve found the press grind to make the very best brew.

So to everyone who has ever recommended I get a French press, I owe you an apology.  You spoke the gospel and I, too brainwashed by Mr. Coffee, turned the other cheek.  I don’t know why we allegedly don’t like the French, but for the coffee press alone I’d have to declare vive la France!

Shut up. I implore you.

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I need to find a new place to work. It’s very difficult for me to get anything done here lately with all the noise.  If it’s not the freaking parrots, it’s the owner of the parrots who likes to blare his bass in the parking lot despite my repeated requests not to (the same parking lot Tire Guy bangs his tube in).  Every single time he says, “Oh, I forgot. Sorry, I thought no one was home.” And every time, I respond, “I’m always home.” I mean, crimony, dude!  The bass rattles my wall and gives me a headache.  Do I have to hang a sign outside alerting people that I’m home now?

I don’t want to be a jerk, you know? I realize people have a right to live and play their music and whatever.  I also realize it’s during a work week when he thinks people are away from their homes. But some of us aren’t and I pay my rent and deserve peace like anyone else.

He uncovers his damn parrots at 6am in the morning and with it being Summer, everyone in the neighborhood has their windows open.  So they squawk and carry on, especially on the weekends because he sings to them. He SINGS!  You can hear him up there singing to the birds while his wife or girlfriend clanks the dishes around and cooks breakfast.  One morning I yelled out the window “For god’s sake, shut up! This isn’t freaking Costa Rica!” but that didn’t seem to sway him.  I can’t imagine why.

The other day, he was using a chainsaw to cut logs about 3 feet from my open bedroom window.  He’s up a bit higher on the hill, so looking out my window, I was eye-level with the saw.  Dust, wood chips, all this crap was flying in the air and into my windows.  What the hell!!? Are you planning on busting a crackling fire any time soon?  I’m not.  Save it for Winter, dude!

Every time I go ask him to turn down his radio, he’s nice about it and he always says good morning, so I don’t want to be a complete bitch, but this is getting ridiculous. I’ve got to get some work done!  I’ve got to!  And all that’s happening is he’s making me underline things a lot.

*bangs head*

Half-Awake Girl Seeks Mr. Coffee for Early Mornings & Late Nights

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I’ve found the source of the mystery squeak.  It is, like I suspected, the coffeemaker.  While making my morning Gold Coast Blend, I was filling up the pot and after dumping the water in to the coffeemaker, I heard the stainless steel carafe start to squeal… this time, like a pig.  An actual squeal.  I put the pot right up to my ear and sure enough!  Gosh, I can’t imagine why my $24 coffeemaker doesn’t have a high quality seal.  rolleyes

I think since I started this blog in 2003, I’ve been through about five or six coffeemakers, constantly searching for the perfect one that doesn’t cost half a year’s salary.  I’ve had three different models of the average Mr. Coffee, the first of which lasted me five years and I loved it profusely. It shut off after 4 hours instead of two and it was just the most perfect coffeemaker ever.  When it died, I replaced it with the newer model of the same brand and it busted within a couple months and rarely made good coffee.

After that I had another Mr. Coffee, then got a Cuisinart Grind n’ Brew, which I really, really liked, but I rarely used the grind part. It was a big production, required lots of cleaning and was loud, etc. etc.  I just use my little corded power-grinder for that. It’s loud, but I can muffle it with dishtowel if it’s too early.  The Cuisinart was one of my faves because it made really delicious coffee and again, it had a 4-hour shut off, but it died in about a year.  That’s it!  A year. 

Continue reading →

The Kitchen of NIMH

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Strange things occur in my apartment from time to time.  It’s a 53-year-old building, so it’s pretty much strange-ready.  I’ve lived here a little over year now and in addition to the toilet paper roll that occasionally unrolls itself, there’s been this mystery squeak.

I’ve been trying to find the source of this squeak for months.  I ask other people and they either don’t hear it or just write it off as something else, but when I’m alone… that’s when I hear it.  Of course, that just makes me sound crazy, but I’m telling you, people, there is some kind of squeaky chirping sound coming from my kitchen!  I may be a little zany, but I don’t hallucinate… much.

This also not the same chirping I heard a few months ago.  Our upstairs neighbor, Slick (of Project X fame), had said he thought he had a rat once, though that seemed to have been taken care of and was an isolated incident. Though, in my opinion, rats aren’t an isolated incident, but no one else has ever reported anything.  For all I know Nicodemus and his posse are holding town council meetings under the building… but I doubt it.

Continue reading →

30 Seconds on the Clock, Here’s Your Question

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In the ongoing saga of my coffeemaker, I’m discovering that every morning is a round of Beat the Clock.  The latest coffeemaker I bought has 2-hour auto shut-off.  I used to have one with this feature and I enjoyed it, as I sometimes can’t remember to do it. But, that one allowed me to extend it another 2 hours by pushing the ON button before the 2 hours were up.  This is not the case with this coffeemaker.  So, every morning, I get about 1 cup … maybe another half-cup before it shuts off. It doesn’t ding or alert me in any way that it’s going to shut off, so inevitably, I get involved in a project, realize my coffee is cold, run out to refill and the damn thing is shut off. Grrrr.

I can’t guzzle my coffee in the morning, you know? Firstly, it’s hot.  Secondly, I’ve got shit to do.  I’m reading and answering emails, tending to the administrative side of Moxie, handling questions, etc.  It shocks me that I can go 2 hours without refilling my coffee, but dammit, I do.  So, it looks like I have choices: get better about going back to check, set a timer on the microwave as soon as I pour my first cup, move the coffeemaker into my office or just get a new one.

See, if I were independently wealthy, I could just get Jeeves to brew it one cup at a time.  *runs to buy Lotto ticket*

A Cuppa Cuppa Cuppa Cuppa Cup

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I bought a new coffeemaker yesterday.  This time I meant business, so I went with the old, trusty Mr. Coffee.  And, for Mr. Coffee, this is a stylish lil’ number.  He’s black and I’ve dubbed him Seamus.

I’m trying to coax mike out of bed. It’s not going very well. He’s having none of it.  I even turned on the lights. Hmph.

Oh!  New Christmas gift idea!  Bath & Body Works has started carrying a line called Tutti Dolci.  Remember last year when I was all a-twitter about Jacqua Girl’s Marshmallow Body Whip?  I still love that stuff, but this stuff is this year’s that stuff.  It comes in the following scents: Creme Brulee, Angel Food Cake, Chocolate Fondue, Lemon Meringue, Sugar Wafer and Cinnamon Frosting. There may be one more, but I can’t remember. Anyway, this stuff is the diggety. I love it.  I bought the Cinnamon Frosting body souffle which really makes your skin soft (and is economical as you get a big ol’ tub of it for $19, compared to the $16 for the wee jar of last year’s favorite) and I layered it with Chocolate Fondue eau du toilette.  Oh yeah, baby.

Coffee beckons. I’ll be back later with my story about the throw-down in Albertson’s.

Cinnamon Asshole

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I was forced to scout out a Starbucks this morning due to my coffeemaker’s demise.  I’d heard that the Pumpkin Spice Lattes were back for the season and I love pumpkin anything.  I do not love this.  It tastes like gym socks.  At best, it tastes like gym socks soaked in pumpkin-flavored milk.  I had trouble detecting actual coffee.  How many damn squirts of syrup do they put in those cups before they make a latte?  Damn!  I might as well have been drinking straight from the syrup bottle like a hamster.

Not that hamsters drink from syrup bottles.  I have no idea what I’m talking about.

In other news, thank you thank you goes out to Whitters for the awesome dishtowels she sent as a housewarming gift and to Joooolie, who totally outdid herself with a set of gorgeous stemware that she etched herself with little stars.  She knows stars are my favorite shape, but in some cosmic twist of fate, I actually broke 4 of my wine glasses in the move; how did you know?  Beautiful!  Thank you both so much!