Old Red

Every now and again I check out the free stuff listed on Craigslist. I've actually gotten some pretty sweet stuff doing this and if nothing else, it helps the day pass by. I find it really interesting to see what crazy stuff people will try to give away and what words they use to describe. Like "funky couch" means "heinous, dirty, and probably has bodily fluids on it". Or "vintage", which means "old piece of crap that I doubt anyone even wants for free".



Today's Craigslist experience has been my favorite of all time. About a week ago I was browsing the free stuff in Nashville and found someone giving away a real, live horse for free. For reals. Today I was looking at the stuff in DC and came across a listing for a free horse. In DC? Where the heck is there any land to have a horse here??? And that's when I came across my favorite posting yet:

"Old red needs a new pasture. Eats nothing, real quiet, gets along well, does rear most of the time. Has had a few injuries but healed well. Comes with one can of touch up paint."

I might be the only person who finds this funny, but you're also talking to a gal that had a life-size cardboard cutout of Goldberg (as in Bill, the wrestler) in her college apartment. I really think that Old Red would be a great conversation starter at parties. And I could totally decorate him for each holiday. For Halloween he could be a witch and for Christmas I could just toss on a Santa hat and wrap him in lights. I have a fondness for Old Red and am actually sad I can't have him. He'll probably end up in the hands of some unappreciative frat that'll break his legs off. Can't you just imagine having Old Red in your house and sending your kids to him for time-out while saying "quit horsing around". Har har har.

Satan’s Floor

This past weekend I was able to experience the true *delights* of contractors installing hardwood floors. The contract was signed two weeks ago, with demolition to begin two Thursdays ago. Thursday arrived and so did the first bit of drama. Our floor had jip creek under it which crumbles to pieces when you pull up plywood. Sign number 1 that this was going to be the floor from hell. Next they get to the stairs and, oh!, surprise!, they’re not made out of concrete, but wood. Sign number 2 that this was Satan’s floor. So by the end of Thursday we find out that we can’t install the engineered wood we were sold because it won’t adhere to the stairs. We’re super excited to have to drive all the way back to the flooring store in rush-hour traffic.

The new plan is to install real hardwood flooring. Brazilian Cherry – which costs a heck of a lot more than the stuff we bought. But since the retard who drew up the contract failed to realize you shouldn’t ever install engineered wood on jip creek, we get the new stuff at cost. Thank you, God. The plan is to have the new wood delivered at the crack of dawn on Friday so they can install it on Sunday morning (48 hour acclimation period). Well, that part goes super well because the wood gets delivered at 3pm on Friday. Sign number 3. We literally have to wait a full 7 days for work to be done again on the floor.

My Good Friday was spent watching contractors install the new floor – not very exciting (but I am leaving out SO many awful details). On Saturday everything is going pretty well and I guesstimate that they’ll be done around 6pm. But 6pm arrives and they’re not done. At 7pm a neighbor comes up to complain about the noise and how he has friends coming over soon. The contractors promise to be done in 30 minutes. Ok, that’s cool. Well, 8pm rolls around. Seriously guys, I’m ready to eat dinner. At 9pm I walk over to check things out since it’s getting kinda late. They decided to have a brain fart and cut out a hole in the baseboard and pull a telephone line through it. I mean, I’m all for having random wires hanging out in my hallway but seriously, are they on crack? I call my husband (who’s out of town all week) to see if this is what he told the contractors to do. Um, no. So guess what time they finished on Saturday? 10pm. For reals.

Not exactly how I expected to celebrate Easter weekend. My advice…expect contractors to screw you over and for the entire experience to make you want to claw your own eyes out. Happy Easter!