Used Shower Water Leaking Into Our House

We seem to have had a few plumbing issues so far in this condo. I have a feeling we're not through, yet.

We were spending our Sunday morning going through our loft (think basement/attic for you folks with a house) and getting all our, er, Michelle's winter clothes out. I'd say we took down 6ish plastic bins filled with clothes and shoes. One half of one bin, containing like, 5 sweaters, was mine. We have a walk in closet, and it started out 50:50. We're down to like 30:70, and Meeche is closing in fast.

So we were up there a few weeks ago, and we noticed that one of the bins had some watery crap stains on it. We thought about looking into it, and then became lazy and decided not to. Well this time, Michelle saw water, and she saw water dripping. It's coming from where our neighbor's bathroom is. Which is not good. No good water comes from a bathroom. It's coming from one of 3 places. 1) The toilet. I don't think I have to go into this in more detail. 2) The sink. Toothpaste spit, shaved facial hair, etc. Or 3) The shower. Washed-off filth.

So the first thing that comes to mind, is "Shit." Because this is a problem, and problems cost money. Money is something we don't have right now. We know what money is, we know what's it's used for, and we even used to have a little extra. We now give all our money to Bank of America, American Express, and Nissan Motor Acceptance Corporation, among a few dozen others. So we immediately turn into plumbers, and we try to make sure that we will not be responsible for this.

Michelle calls our management company, and they send out the Ghostbusters plumbing team. I think they were driving the original car from Ghostbusters, I swear. So, two kids bust into our house, and are like, "Where's the leak?" I'm like, "Hi, what's up?" He's like, "Is it in the bathroom?" Ok. So we stopped talking to each other after that exchange.

The kid says it's coming from the shower upstairs and it's going to take 2 or 3 hours, and they have to come back. Michelle had to go upstairs and break the news to our neighbors, and when she came down, she felt really bad. They are so freaking nice. Like, How did this couple end up in Boston? nice. And how did we luck out and have really nice, and really quiet neighbors?

They gave an estimate of who would pay for it, and how much it would cost.

Upstairs neighbors.

$750.

Dodged a bullet. Someone was smiling on us on this day.

Great Day...Fall TV, Old Navy, and JP Licks

Can I just tell you how happy I am about fall TV?

I am a TV junkie, straight up. Always have been, for as long as I can remember. I can't be in the house without a TV on. It drives me crazy if I have to be in the house in silence. I remember watching Mr. Wizard at like, 5 AM on Saturday mornings back in the day. I think it was one of the earliest obsessions I had, in terms of TV shows. My modern day Mr. Wizard is Good Eats with Alton Brown. I'm a nerd, I know this.

So in preparation for fall TV, Michelle and I have been watching old DVR'ed shows like crazy. We got the memory down to 18%, which is the lowest we've had it since we got it. So all week, we've been setting up recordings for shows coming back, and new shows which we're trying out.

Great comebacks: The Office, Parks and Recreation (sorta decent), Two and a Half Men (funniest show on television, in case you were wondering), Grey's Anatomy (a Meeche fav), and Gary Unmarried (underrated comedy).

New promising shows: Modern Family and The Good Wife (I'm surprised by how much we both liked The Good Wife). Although I tried to change the channel during commercials, Michelle told me to stop, I threw a hissy fit, and we ended up watching the second half of the show in separate rooms.

Might suck but we'll give it another chance: Community, Cougar Town (Courtney Cox is flippin' hot...still).

To be determined: Mercy (another friggen doctor show I will be subjected to).

Missing like crazy: ER. Goddam I loved that show to the very end.

Cannot wait another day for the new season to start even though I don't know when it's starting: Lost. Where you can die on the show and never be written off the script.

So the other day, Michelle went shopping online, and went bananas at OldNavy.com. She sends me an email and goes, Can I get this? She shows me a shopping cart with like $853 to Old Navy. Ok it was more like $190. I'm like, uh, $200 to Old Navy? Are you buying a stake in the Gap? She sends me an email back and now it's $143. She googled Old Navy coupons and saved almost $50. So she orders them, finds out they're getting delivered today, and then stalks the UPS man until it says the package has been delivered. In the mean time, she has the window open so she can hear the UPS truck pull up to our building so she can make out with the delivery guy when he arrives.

When the clothes finally arrive, I offer Michelle some chapstick, and now comes the only good part for me. The fashion show. It's like, the happiest I've seen Michelle in days. And I'm pretty sure that's a poor reflection on me.

In the middle of watching Chefs vs. City, they have to eat a shitload of ice cream. I am DYING for ice cream like I'm pregnant with triplets. So we go for a ride toward the North End, I'm thinking gelato, but somehow we end up on Newbury Street, and right at the end, calling to me, is JP Licks. Oh. Man. I order Oreo in a sugar cone. No jimmies. Oh. Man. Again.

It was like the actual ice cream was made out of pure Oreo cookies. Usually Oreo ice cream is mainly white with black spots, but this looked like chocolate ice cream, and it was awesome. Like, way better than I had ever expected ice cream to taste. The girl's like, do you want the yogurt or the ice cream. Oh kay. Ice cream please. Michelle just wanted a bite since she was driving home, and she ended up eating some at every red light. We hit a lot of red lights on the way home, and I was more than a little upset.

Yard Sale Part 2 ($173?)

Dude, $173? What the hell did we sell?

Well, Michelle sold a ton of coats for anywhere from 3-15 bucks each. Dance dance revolution WITH the mat and game for PS2, $10. That was a dumb purchase, used it like twice. A George Forman grill for $4, a bargain. Sopranos seasons 1 and 3 on VHS, $15. And the best thing all day...Michelle's skis AND boots sold for $10 to a nice, little man. He reminded me of the Asian guy in the Hangover that jumps out of the trunk naked and kicks everyone's ass.

We were selling things from 3 sources. Our house, Michelle's parents', and Michelle's cousin. So we actually kept track of what sold, from who, and for how much. When we finally reconciled the books and counted the money, we had sold $364 worth of stuff. And at the same time, cleaned out so much crap from our houses. The rule was that if it didn't sell, it was getting thrown away, or donated to the Salvation Army. NOTHING was allowed back in the house. So throughout the day, we were giving extra things away as "Free Gifts With Purchase." Michelle's mom was giving away dolls and toys to little kids as they walked out. It was actually really nice to see the looks on some kids' faces when they got a free toy. All in all, it was a successful and rewarding experience.

There was one couple who showed up around noon. The guy couldn't speak English too well, and he was looking for tapes. I'm like movies? He gestured what I guessed was a yes, and he was extremely happy when I showed him the 60 or so VHS tapes we had for sale. Michelle's mom asked if he had kids, because many of the movies were children's movies. He said he didn't care, he doesn't have cable, so he likes to watch a lot of movies.

No cable. Almost broke my heart. I'm so spoiled by the world we live in, that I make fun of people who don't have DVR. Slaves to regular programming. Pssh. I felt like such an ass at that moment. This guy is going around snatching up VHS tapes at yard sales because he doesn't have cable. When we delivered the things to his car, we saw that he had dishes and pots and pans in his car, so it was evident he must have been outfitting his home. And what was nice about the guy, is that he paid what we were asking. We had the tapes listed at 3 for $1. He goes, how much for the whole box? There were like 30 tapes in there, so I said, ok $5. He whipped out the money, no questions.

I got haggled so much by some people, it was really obnoxious. I know that's what you do at a yard sale. I don't have a problem with it. But I got haggled over a 3-ring binder at one point. It was priced at $.50. She goes "50???" Yeah, 50. Ok fine, 25. "25??? Two five???" I was like, uhhh yeah, you know, a quarter? I took one out of my pocket and showed it to her like an asshole. She goes, "10 cents." I go, lady, I don't have change for a quarter, just take the thing. But she was insistent on paying me that dime. So I took it. Dimes are money, too, I guess.

So back to the Cable Guy. We really liked this guy, so we started finding other things he might want. We gave him a platter, a pitcher, offered him some lamps. The was filling his car up, and it was really nice to see, and we were happy to help him out. I thought he was going to make his wife walk home so he could fit more stuff in his car. But it was moments like this that really made the yard sale worthwhile. It was a shit load of work leading up to it, and all throughout the day, and even after it. But we cleaned out so much junk, made some people happy, and made a little money in the process. I feel like rummaging all over again and having another one. In the spring, maybe.

Life Soundtracks

I feel like people would be a lot happier sometimes, if they only were listening to what I was listening to at that particular moment. There is something about that perfect song for the moment, for that situation, for that weather, that makes everything right.

I can remember the first 2 albums I ever received. Simultaneously, I got Dookie by Green Day, and Licensed to Ill by the Beastie Boys. From that moment forward, I was hooked. Judging by the fact that Dookie was released on February 1, 1994, and I got the tapes for Christmas, I can confidently say that day was December 25, 1994.

I'm just realizing that it's kind of crazy that my parents bought me a Beastie Boys album when I was 10. Maybe that's why I loved them so much.

I can still picture the Dookie tape in my hands, with that blue plastic covering. I distinctly remember the cover art, and the lyrics, and how they were written and crossed out and written again. I spent HOURS staring at that cover art. It's amazing how I could spend so much time doing things like that, and still had time to do anything else. Now, I barely scrape my body off the sheets in the morning, go to work, and barely have time for anything at night. I miss spending hours listening to the same album over and over, and doing nothing else. If I listen to music now, I have to be doing something else, because who has time to listen to music and do nothing else?

My original thought for this post was about having a soundtrack to my life. It always hits me when I'm in a subway station. I see all these people mumbling to themselves, getting pissed at absolutely nothing. And I'm doing everything in my power to keep from dancing and singing at the top of my lungs. And I wonder, do you think everyone else would be happier if they were listening to Santa Monica by Everclear right now? Or Carousel by Blink182? Or Freebird by Lynyrd Skynyrd?

I think they would be.

But then I think, well what makes me be lucky enough to play DJ and pick the music? Wouldn't everyone else's music be playing together at the same time and sound like shit? An eclectic mix of my mid 90's rock mixed with Lady Gaga, Bruce Hornsby, Jay Z and a touch of Shania Twain? And then I think, no. Because this is my game, and you're going to listen to my soundtrack, because my soundtrack kicks a lot of ass.

By the way, I had to look up how to spell Shania. That is messed up.

Music gives me chills. A certain note, a great riff, an amazing ending. All these things can hit my ear just right, and before I know it, I'm squirming like I have a shiver. Thanks to Fenway Park, I can't help but scream the words to Sweet Caroline whenever I hear it. How else can you get that reaction from a Neil Diamond song, other than having 35,000 drunken fans screaming it during the 8th inning of every home Red Sox game? It's all about experiences and memories with music. A song will come on the radio that I haven't heard in 10 years, but I can remember exactly where I was when that song came on a certain mix tape as I was rollerblading to my buddy's house.

Rollerblading was ok in 1997 if you were 13, I swear. I took the breaks off so I looked cooler.

Someday I think I may just carry a boom box on my shoulder like the Fresh Prince, and let everyone else know what I'm listening to. I think I'm really on to something here. I can make people happy with my music choices.

Music doesn't make everyone happy. But I think everyone else just doesn't have my soundtrack yet.

Yard Sale and Other Stuff

We're getting ready to have a yard sale on Saturday, so we've been going through every nook and cranny of our condo, and we're also going through Michelle's parents' house. I've always been a bit of a hoarder, where I find it hard to throw things away, but Michelle has been working hard to get me away from that. I used to save movie ticket stubs and receipts for Starbucks like I would need them for the IRS someday. Or maybe I thought I could use the ticket stubs as an alibi? I'm not sure why I kept them. Michelle is going to find my hidden stash someday.

We came across about 50 VCR tapes which we haven't touched in 2 years. We have a VCR, but I honestly couldn't tell you where it is. Apparently Michelle knows where it is. I felt really old going through these. This means that my kid(s) will grow up in a house without a VCR hooked up to the TV? How crazy is that? Remember having to rewind a movie before you returned it to the video store? I can't wait to talk about this 20 years from now. It sounds so stupid now, never mind in the future. And some VCRs were slow as hell, so you spent like 5 minutes waiting for the thing to rewind all the way. Oh, and there was always one person in the house who never rewound the movies, so when you went to watch something, you got all pissed because the credits were rolling. Oh man, I hated that. It's like grabbing the OJ container and there's half a sip left.

Anyway.

On Sunday, we were at the in-laws house, and and Michelle and her mom were cleaning out the basement. I was the muscle, carrying all sorts of crap outside. So Michelle calls me downstairs, and I figure there's more to carry up. Oh no. Michelle throws this giant exercise ball into the air, and the in-laws' dog, Lilly, comes flying in and fires the thing around with her nose, like a seal would do. Not a regular seal, you know, one of those Aquarium seals.

Michelle's mom is sweating her ass off, her hair is all messed up, and she has a look of utter confusion on her face. In the mean time, Michelle is trotting around wearing a pair of black high heals and some old jacket which her grandmother wore like 80 years ago. She asks me how cute the shoes are, and tells me this jacket is back in style.

Mmm nice.

Later on in the day, we ended up finding our way to Trader Joe's, and man, do I miss this place. We walk out with all sorts of frozen meals, snacks, chips, pirate's booty, 2 bottles of wine, and a 6 pack of Trader Joe's beer for like, 52 bucks.

Then some lady at Trader Joe's asked Michelle if they had crackers. Michelle's like, uh, "I would think so." If you knew Michelle, you would know what she really wanted to say, and it was probably something like, "Lady, why the eff would you ask me that? Do I look like I work at Trader Joe's?? Do you see me wearing a giant ass Hawaiian shirt? No. Now go away." But she was very polite. Michelle has this thing where EVERYONE talks to her. No matter where we are, it's like she's a friggen tour guide. People comment on her clothes and ask her for directions.

I can honestly say I have never had a stranger comment on my clothes. Maybe I'm a little jealous they haven't.

Some Sad Stuff

I had a brother, Frankie, who died in a car accident 12 years ago. He was 19 at the time, and living in North Carolina while I was home in Massachusetts. I was 13 when he died, so even though it's been 12 years, he was around long enough to have a strong, lasting impact on my life.

Last night, my mom put together a party involving many of Frankie's friends. She does this every once in a while to keep in touch with all of them. For me, it's probably been the full 12 years since I've seen some of them. It's almost like time traveling, where as soon as you see someone like that, it brings you right back to the place you last saw them. Or it takes you to the place you remember them most often. It was a very difficult night for everyone, I think, and it was especially difficult for my mom when she saw certain people.

It's like time has definitely healed a lot of the wounds, but when something triggers it, it all can come flooding back to the surface. It could be a movie, a song, or in this case, a familiar face. I think the hardest part isn't missing him being around, but realizing what he missed out in his own life. I see all his friends married with kids, jobs, and houses, and I find myself feeling bad for my brother for not being able to experience it.

But it wasn't just a big, depressing mess. It was a little more awkward than anything I think. Because I wasn't really thinking these things while I was there, it wasn't until the drive home, and then when I woke up this morning that I started thinking about this. After 12 years, it's like we needed an ice breaker to get a conversation going. I can feel people looking at me, and seeing nothing but my brother, and neither one of us knowing what to say or to talk about.

It's really amazing for me to see what an impact one person can have on so many people's lives. He only lived 19 years, but when you see all the people he affected, it's impressive. And that's just one person. I can't even imagine all the families grieving around the world right now with people who were killed in this war in Iraq and Afghanistan. I have friends who have been over seas, and some who are now, and I feel lucky that everyone has been okay so far.

I also think it was odd that the party took place on the anniversary of 9/11. About a year after the 9/11 attacks, I went through a phase where I would think about it everyday. I had no personal connection to anyone who was killed, but there was a relationship between my family's experience with losing my brother and with those families dealing with 9/11. If I hadn't gone through it myself, I would never have understood the magnitude of each individual person's life and death.

Okay, that's enough depressing stuff for now.

I recently told my sister Gina about my blog. I hadn't for a while, because I didn't know how I would feel about it, and I didn't know if I would be consistent with it. But so far it's been both addicting and therapeutic. So I told her about it, and last night I finally got to ask her what she thought. She said she read through every post and said it was addicting for her to read it. And she said when I mentioned her in one the posts, she felt like she was famous. To be honest, when people write comments, I'm like, holy crap, someone is actually reading and responding. So I told her she needs to comment, too. Gina, I'm calling you out.

Do it.

They're Like Small Children, Only Fluffy.

I can't resist, I'm sorry. I know he's a dog, I'm well aware of this. But his face is ridiculous. I am becoming one of those dog people. I used to wonder why people went up to random strangers' dogs and asked what their name was, how old they were, and what type of dog they were. Now I'm all, "Oh wow, Freddie the 4 year old Irish German Settler Retriever Poodle mix is an awesome color." Like I'm going to use this information later.

Before I get into posting 27 pictures of my dog, I just took him for a walk, and I wanted to document what I heard while I was out. I caught about 8 seconds of someone's conversation about their own reality show. It's going to be called, "The Sean and Ryan Show." Wait, that's not the good part. Here is the tagline.

"We will mount everything in sight."

I'm not sure why, but I feel like I would watch this show. I'm pretty sure Fox would pick it up. I know MTV would. I would fill up my DVR with two kids from South Boston mounting everything in sight, or at least trying to.

Ok, back to Murray. I know everyone thinks their own dog is the cutest dog ever, so here is the cutest dog ever.



Last night, Michelle went on dog.com and entered Murray in the Cutest Dog Competition. Murray will be earning us $1 million. I can't wait, I have big plans for that money. If you wish to support our quest for the Cutest Dog, go here, search for Murray, and vote for this guy.



Oh man.



Wait.



Mmhmm.



Sexy.



I feel like I should photoshop a briefcase next to him in that last one.



One more.



I rest my case.

The Graying of a New Generation

Every time I get a haircut, I check my hairline as if I'm a surgeon in the operating room. And no matter what, I ALWAYS think it's receded. Michelle keeps telling me it's not, but I don't know if I trust her. I think she just doesn't want to listen to me bitch about it anymore. I'm 25. I know people who have started going bald earlier than 25. Ok, I'm paranoid, whatever. I've had this conversation with my friends and with Michelle, and there's something about being 25. It feels like it's the official age where you go from being "I saw this kid on the subway" to "I saw this guy on the subway."

One fun thing to do is to ask a little kid how old they think I am. If you ever ask a 7 year old kid how old you are, they will always say 10 years older than you really are. It's funny, because at first, you're like, Haha, no DUMMY, I'm not 35, hahaha. But then later on, you start questioning the kid's judgment. Maybe he's right. Maybe I do look 35. I need to start exercising again. Maybe their innocent view on life and old people is correct.

I've thought it was pretty damn funny that Michelle has pulled gray hairs out of her head and eyebrows for a while now. And what makes it better is that I didn't have any. Not one. Until now. I spotted a little gray bastard on my face. Not even in the beard region, he was outside the lines. But still, it was blatant.

When I brought it to Michelle's attention, her reaction was, "Yesssss!" Then, *plink*, she yanks it right out of my face. Which I think made it even better for her. Now, both of us, at 25, have had gray hairs. I blame it on being married. She blamed hers on planning a wedding. While we were planning our wedding, Michelle was so stressed that her hair was actually falling out. We have Meeche Tumbleweeds every once in a while, but this was like pulling hampsters out of the lint trap.

THEN...I was laying bed on Saturday morning and she was trying to drag me up to go get coffee, and she gasps. "Uhhhhhh!" Kind of like that loud inhale noise you make right before you rear end somebody on the highway. She goes, "Is that, is that a gray hair?" There was such excitement in her voice, it was sickening. She has to run and tell her parents, so I get laughed at by them.

Then I'm getting out of the shower, and Michelle is drying her hair. She says, "Do you want me to dry your gray?" Yes, Michelle, please dry my gray. That will make me happy.

I also can't sit cross legged anymore. Actually, my nephews call it criss cross applesauce. Maybe that's what they're teaching them in school these days. So I can't sit criss cross applesauce for more than 5 minutes. I try to get up and it's like my leg muscles have forgotten how to work. I played wiffleball with them a few weekends ago, for about an hour. I had a sore shoulder for the next two days from throwing a wiffleball to a 7 and 11 year old.

Another thing I can't do anymore is stay up for Late Night. I can't tell you how excited I was when Conan O'Brien finally got the Tonight Show. I can't remember the last time I saw Conan's show. I just recently realized that Jimmy Fallon was the new host of Late Night.

I think having a job, a mortgage, a wife, and a dog have really turned me into a grown up. I'm very afraid what will happen when we throw children into the mix.

I Can't Read Lips, or Minds

Communication between the sexes is a funny thing. We'll be at a restaurant, and Michelle gives me the look, like, listen close. Then she proceeds to speak silently, mouthing what she wants me to know. Her eyes get really wide, and she starts pointing her head in various directions, trying to tell me something funny or weird. I squint and furrow my brow and this is what I say.

WHO??

or...

WHERE??

I can't understand what the hell she's trying to say to me. But it's my instinct to blurt something out, not realizing that she's probably talking about someone right behind me. So now everyone around us knows that she's talking about them, and I feel like a jackass. Her nostrils flair and her eyes roll back, but I'm sorry, how am I supposed to read your lips? I'd rather receive a text message from across the table, this would make it much easier on everyone.

But then we'll be out with one of her friends, or one of my buddies' girlfriends, and she pulls the same move. And the other girl is carrying on, like she knows exactly what Michelle is saying. It's baffling. They start doing it back and forth, neither one missing a beat. And they go in and out of the mouthing. They'll read lips for a second, then be like, "Oh I know, how stupid." Then go back to reading lips.

On a similar, yet different topic, we had another interesting conversation last night. I'm sitting on the laptop, doing nothing of importance. This is what happens:

Michelle: Joe, it's already 9:30.

Joe: Yeah, I know, it's getting late, huh?

Michelle: I need to do that thing on the laptop.

Joe: Ok. (Doesn't move)

Michelle: OK.

Joe: What??

Michelle: Were you not listening?

Joe: You can't do it tomorrow?? (Annoyed tone of voice)

Michelle: Ugh. You KNOW I have to do it tonight.

Joe: I did NOT know that.

Michelle: Obviously you knew that. I didn't think I needed to specify.

We've been together for more than 8 years, we talk all day and all night, yet sometimes, we have no idea what the other one is talking about. I need specification. I need details. I suck at assuming. Maybe it's a fault that I have, but I'm pretty sure that the Y chromosome is oblivious when it comes to picking up hints. After 3,143 days, I still can't figure it all out.

Yes, I just calculated out the number of days since we started "going steady." I am a nerd. I puffy heart Excel.

But the thing is, even if we sit and talk about something, I forget anyway. I understand it's probably frustrating being married to me sometimes. Maybe I'm making excuses by saying it's a male/female thing, but hell, it can't be my fault, can it?

Right?

The Things I Hate and Love About Being the Guy

Hate: Cleaning the toilet, or dog crap, or vomit.
Love: Controlling the clicker.

Hate: Killing spiders, bugs, and any other intruders in our home.
Love: Getting the last bite of a shared dessert.

Hate: Taking out an old mouse trap left behind by the previous owner. (This happened last week)
Love: Grossing her out by telling her there was a dead mouse in there, even though there wasn't.

Hate: Carrying all the heaviest stuff.
Love: Feeling buff and strong while carrying the heaviest stuff.

Hate: "Joe, will you squeeze my feet?"
Love: Getting a back massage in return.

Hate: Always being wrong.
Love: When I'm actually right.

Hate: When I get two different responses from my wife regarding the same EXACT situation.
Love: The moment we make up.

Hate: Being subjected to watching The Secret Life of an American Teenager.
Love: Ok I actually like that one. (Ricky is always so mad)

Hate: Being the one to take the dog out before bed so my wife doesn't get kidnapped on the street.
Love: Waking up to Murray's face at 6:00 AM, because he knows I'm the one who takes him out.

Hate: When I tell a joke and all I get is crickets.
Love: When I make her laugh so hard soda comes out of her nose.