All things considered, the trip to Texas went reasonably well. It would have been smoother had we been able to stretch our legs for longer periods of time, but Arizona and New Mexico were horribly hot and dusty, and the dogs couldn’t handle it. The trip back later this summer ought to be just peachy.
I am so damn sick of going to the hardware store. It’s a place filled with stuff that doesn’t interest me. Plus, when you think about it, usually a trip to the hardware store means something is wrong. Pretty much everything is wrong with our place. The former owners somehow managed to leave everything just on the brink of breaking. Last December we spent nearly three weeks cleaning the freaking hazmat zone they left behind, and fixing odds and ends. This trip is no different, except more things are broken, which is just awesome.
Our first journey to Home Depot was on Thursday night, right after we rolled into town and discovered one of the toilets was broken. I knew what we needed to fix it, but was in a tired daze, and didn’t buy the right thing. So we had to go back. Then, I got to fix the toilet. I won’t go into all the details, because that would be extremely boring. The long and short of it is, I did fix it, and it took forever because the plumbing is old. And because I’m not a freaking plumber.
And then? Since I’m a little bit of a perfectionist, I went in to make an adjustment after I was done, and completely fucked it up. As you can imagine, a great deal of profanity spewed forth – I’d even classify my reaction as a full on temper tantrum. So it’s still broken. I need a little time before I tackle that chore again.
Yesterday we decided to abandon our repairs and have some much needed fun. We met my dad, stepmom and grandma for some lunch, and afterward went on a little dive bar crawl and played some pool. If we’re peeps on Facebook or Twitter, then you already know that. What you don’t know is, I am the world’s worst pool player. Always have been.
One of my grandpas, who passed away a long time ago, owned a few bars in Houston. When I was a kid he used to take me with him to go open the places up in the afternoon, which I loved. I ran around and played, and my grandpa taught me how to get a free game out of the pinball machine (and how to steal quarters from it – probably not the best thing to teach a small child. He, however, thought it was hilarious. Grandpa was quite a character). Once I was tall enough to see over the side of the pool table, he also tried to teach me to play pool. Exactly once. I managed to put a scratch a mile long in the felt. My grandpa was horrified, and that was the end of that.
Aside from all the broken crap in our place, I am happy to be back in Texas. It’s beautiful here.
Happy Monday y’all.