The realtor just left my apartment and Christie and I just signed our offer for a house that we want to buy. While we have only been going through this since Sunday, I feel that it has been a lifetime. I am so tired by all of the reading, and talking, and haggling. But I have a good feeling that I am going to become a homeowner. It feels weird to type that, let alone to actually know it.

The building is a duplex - two apartments with the same layout set on top of one another. There is an attic and a basement, both of which we would share. There is a two-door garage and a garden; grass to mow. There is a porch and a balcony. The building is old, more than 100 years. It has character. It also has hard wood floors, a claw-foot bathtub, and a shrubery.

The neighborhood is not the best. But it is certainly not the worst. Riverwest is the area of town where the hippies and the hipsters live. There may be more crime there than in the white picket fences neighborhood, but there's also a stronger neighborhood association, of which our realtor has already invited us to join. The Food Co-op is only two buildings away from the house. And there are two coffee shops within a block as well. We're a block from my favorite bus line - the same one that Christie takes to work. Oh, and there's a sex toy shop on the corner too.

My feelings are all over the board. I'm excited, but extremely nervous. I hope I did not make the wrong decision. I keep thinking of all that can go wrong. And I feel guilty when I catch myself thinking of all that can go right. But mostly I just feel tired.

Memorial Day Check List

• Eat frozen custard
• Yard Sales
• Run - twice
• Bike ride
• Finish Sophie's World after months of reading it
• Clean up the house - especially the bathroom
• View house to buy, meet with realtor, place offer on house
• Buy flights home to Pennsylvania
• Buy books
• Swim multiple laps
• Eat sushi
• Cheer for the Memorial Day Parade
  

One day, lad, all this will be yours!

PRINCE HERBERT:

What, the curtains?

FATHER:

No. Not the curtains, lad. All that you can see, stretched out over the hills and valleys of this land! This'll be your kingdom, lad.

- Monty Python and the Holy Grail


Tonight I am hanging curtains on the windows of my apartment. They look so much better than the blinds. But more importantly, now I can leave the windows open, and not wear pants!

Today, I learned a valuable lesson about tailgating the car in front of you on the highway. Don't do it. Because the driver may vomit out his window and splatter your car worse than a swarm of bugs. True story.

That sums up my day: vomit on the car and hanging curtains.

Prayer Rug

I received a Prayer Rug in the mail today. I didn't ask for it; someone sent it me. It's not really a rug. It's a large piece of paper that has been folded up. It has the design of a Persian rug, but then there's a large picture of Jesus in the middle of it. Jesus' eyes are drawn to be closed, but the directions with the rug say that if you look at them long enough they appear to open up. Then you are too kneel on the Prayer Rug (Prayer Sheet of Paper) and ask for what you need. You then write your prayer on the letter that came with the "rug" and send it to another person.

It's a little strange. The weirdest part is that I'm not sure who sent it to me. And I'm suspicious, but I can't find anywhere that I'm to send money. Currently the Prayer Rug is in my garbage. I feel a little strange about that, but I really don't want to hold onto it.

In other news, Tyler commented on the blog. He didn't say much, but it sure is nice to hear from him. I've been writing to him each week since he was sent to Iraq, but I have no idea when (or if) the letters reach him. I wonder if he got the porn I sent him. Maybe the censors "censored" it for themselves. Just kidding, Tyler. There's no porn coming your way from me. But, Adina - she might send you some.

Three paragraphs is all it took for me to get from "Prayer Rug" to "Pornography".

Go Brewers!

Milwaukee is very excited about the 2007 season. Check it out.