Dec/08
31

Don’t worry…the kids are toasting with sparkling cider. And the chocolate fondue? Amazing.

Here’s to a great 2009 for all of us,

Annie

Dec/08
31

Jeff and I had to have “The Talk”.

He took me to barbeque to soften the blow.

He said….he said….it was time for me to learn to use the bus (quiet sob).

He said that I can’t truly be an urban snob if I only walk and how the hell am I going to get all around downtown when it’s raining hard without taking the bus and that being willing to take the subway in Moscow but not the bus in Seattle is weird.

At our old place, I just walked everywhere but cold weather and rain would sometimes limit my range…to about a block. Jeff was aghast at this but I like walking.

To humor him, I told him I would ride the bus… but just this once.

After softening me up with a beer and a brisket sandwich, we headed for the bus tunnel, which was dark, scary, and full of rats and bad people who want to beat up up and take your money. And zombies. I’ve seen zombie movies. I know where they are.

Here we are, stiill above ground before heading to the Hades of mass transit. Goodbye, sweet life.

That’s the top of Jeff’s head there.

Beast.

Decending into hell. I did notice it was cleaner than I expected.

Huh. This doesn’t look anything like what I expected. Where are the goddamn rats?

Right. No rats yet but I nervously check out my fellow passengers to assess zombie potential.

Disappointing. It was clean and fast and brightly lit. No rats. No cobwebs. No shadowy corners, even.

Before I even had a chance to stake out defensive positions in the event of a zombie attack, we were getting off at Westlake Center.

It was bustling, like a real city with a mass transit system.

There is even a direct escalator into Nordstrom.

And you know what that means, don’t you?

When the zombies do attack, that will have the cutest, cutest shoes.

Signing off, as a mass transit convert,

Annie

Dec/08
31

I wish I had better news about this.

We poured the top coat of concrete yesterday.

It dried quickly but I still had to wear booties to walk on it.

It still has a layer of stain to go to give it color and a layer of coating to give it shine but this coating was to even it out, fill the cracks and pits and holes, and make it smooth.

In some places, it looked great.

In others, it developed what the concrete guys call “alligator skin”.

They tell me it’s rare. As if that helps.

They think it was caused by a slight breeze coming in under the door. They aren’t sure, though.

We agonized for several hours about what to do.

We could have poured another layer on top of this on but there were no guarantees that it wouldn’t happen again, plus we’d lose our “floating” look with the drywall.

OR

We could sand the concrete all over and hope that the alligator parts kind of blend in.

We decided to sand.

In the doorway there you can see an especially bad section of the alligator skin, below.

The concrete workers were there until late tonight, sanding the entire floor to make it appear even.

The only way to get it out, once it is in?

Jackhammers.

I am not going to lie. I am really afraid that a crappy job on the floors has ruined my dream place and I am pissed as hell about it.

It’s possible that we’ll  go and be really surprised and everything is going to look great but I think it will be nearly impossible not to see the big stripes where the alligator stuff was….

(inset depressed sigh here)

Annie