American Dream

We started looking for a new place last weekend.



Ever since I decided to sell my condo and live in sin by moving in with Iggy, I have wanted to sell his place. Maybe not the nicest start to things (hey, I love you, but we have to sell this dump and move). But it was a little bit of the traditional American love story, the American Dream (if you will) to buy a house *together*...

I was sorta reticent to broach the subject, so I've been slowly fixing up the current place. Sorta to make it part "mine" and part in preparation for showing it. I worry sometimes that we might make it too nice and we'll never get to get a new place together.

Somehow the new house bug hit Iggy hard about 2 weeks ago. He started searching Zillow.com and showing me houses on his iPAD during the evenings. Last weekend he came up with a plan to drive buy 6 or 8 of them and canvas the neighborhoods so we could get a feel for how much our money would get us. It was fun, but strangely exhausting. We covered several distinct areas of Denver and the suburbs (Capitol Hill, Cherry Creek, Lowry, Upper Lo-Do, and a couple I don't know the names of). I had to take a nap when we got home.

This weekend Iggy's real estate buddy drove us around to look at the insides of a few of the homes. Surprisingly some of the houses we looked at last weekend had already sold! I thought this was a tough seller's market. But maybe the economy is picking up after all...

At any rate, the inside of the first one (Lowry) was lovely, peaceful, contemporary...and maybe a little too "suburbia" for me. It felt a lot like every other house on the block This isn't bad. It's just part of the atmosphere.

The second house had strange levels (1 step up into the dining room, 1 step down into the kitchen, 1 step up into the family room, etc) and tile on the entire main level. It backed up to an apartment complex where people seemed to be working on their cars and milling about in the parking lot. And it smelled funny to me. We didn't even look at the upstairs or the basement.

The third house was built in 1899 and within blocks of downtown - walking distance to a couple restaurants we've tried and liked, a cool indie grocery/market/butcher shop, Daz Bog, etc. I could already feel my shift to hipster-wannabe starting. It wasn't much more room than we have now and the yard was mostly deck with a token amount of lawn/grass. The master bedroom had a lofted reading nook accessible only via a ladder. Can't decide if that's cool or I'd only use it under duress. It had an older kitchen, but some updates around the house. The current owners were clearly fans of IKEA based on the furnishings and the $3500 gift card offered at closing. The garage would take a 12-point turn for me to get my Subaru Outback station wagon into. (Definitely getting a smaller, hipper car if we move to this one.) The biggest worry was the staircase to the upstairs. Not sure Radar could make it...it's open and twisty (and cool) and wooden (read: slick for dogs whose back legs aren't so good anymore). Guess I'm not ready to be a hipster quite yet. (sigh)

The 4th house was just north of City Park and close to the city golf course. This means it's close to the zoo and the history museum. I pictured myself with a museum membership and walking over on afternoons to browse thorough the latest Paleontology or Egyptology exhibit. Very chic. Very intellectual. (And even healthy since I'm walking.) But it wasn't within walking distance of the museum. And the neighborhood felt like a ghost town, sterile, and vaguely creepy for being so well-kept and respectable on the outside but having no people present or outside on a Saturday afternoon. It was a pop-top but the added 2nd floor was done in the cheapest, most artificial way (loved the bathroom, but the vent looked like someone punched a hole in the wall and covered it with a grate to camouflage it). There was a strange closet in the kitchen where the microwave was housed. Like a mini-pantry, I guess. The downstairs ceiling was low enough that our 6'3" realtor's head touched the top at points. So much for my snooty intellectual dream.

The last house was in Cherry Creek. It turns out it was within walking distance of 3 coffee shops, a deli, and within 7 blocks you start hitting restaurants regularly listed in 5280 magazine. 7 blocks to the Cherry Creek Mall (and movie theater). The house was maybe 5% bigger than our current one (I was hoping for more space and better closets). But! It had several kick-ass features: a fire pit outside on the patio, a walk-in wine cellar, a wet bar downstairs, an awesome kitchen with high-end appliances and a breakfast bar. The master bedroom had dinky closets but a bathroom almost the size of the bedroom itself. It might be hard to fit our furniture and clothes into this space -- granted I do need to get rid of some of my old stuff, so maybe it's not a terrible challenge. The biggest downside was that it back up to a major street (the front is on another street, but the back is on a street that has traffice 24/7). Can we live with the noise to be within blocks of Cherry Creek, the Cherry Creek Arts Festival, etc?

Who knew the American Dream was so picky? Or maybe that's just me...

Master Plan, Phase 2: On Hold

Somehow, I am not quite sure how, I arrived at the plan to adopt an older dog *AND* a puppy in 2012. Luckily Iggy seems agreeable to it all. He's never had 2 dogs at the same time. I've only had 2 dogs at the same time for a couple of years (prior to moving out of that house/relationship). So it is a little outside our comfort zone.

I know I mentioned before that I had always wanted to adopt older dogs because I worry they won't get a second chance. But I don't view that as excluding me from adopting a puppy too.

But first to see if Phase 1 of the plan was going ok. We took Radar to the vet yesterday. I was worried about: 1: his weight (too skinny) 2: his back leg (hip displaysia? arthritis? too late to do anything?) 3: his hearing (either his name really isn't Radar, or he has "selective hearing" or he's deaf)

The vet was a funny little man. Very bookish. Prone to acting out his diagnosis (the loping imitation of hip displaysia was sorta funny). And he drew out a couple of diagrams about hip displaysia versus arthritis on a paper towel for me to take home. He told me that "adopting older dogs is like a mystery -- you see lots of clues but really have to guess at what the history is since you can't just ask them."

At that point we were talking about his hips and walking ability. Radar seemed not to care if the vet moved his back legs all around (the adoption vet said she was unable to extend his back right leg). The vet was speculating about whether the issue was genetic (hip displaysia) or arthritis (the vet thought perhaps Radar was hit by a car at some point -- does this really happen and the dog lives?). Radar's back legs both show muscle atrophy and especially on the right side. In fact, his right side is noticeably smaller than the left.

And his waist is too small. The vet seemed disappointed that Radar didn't have diarrhea. If he did (I guess) this might allow for the weight loss (5 pounds since he was originally dumped at the shelter). Without that as a reason, he was worried that there might be some cancer, specifically in the lungs which "sounded funny". The vet listened with 2 different stethoscopes, so he probably knows what he's talking about. But it could also be that when dogs are super skinny (like Radar) the heart rubs against the lungs and causes the grating sound he was hearing.

So first order of business is to fatten Radar up. Which is a good goal. It seems harder for me to lose weight myself or get my pet to lose weight. But I seem good at gaining weight (seeing all-new numbers on the scale these days -- eek!). The vet gave us a web site to use to figure out what to feed the dog to increase his weight gradually. (The annoying thing about that is that the web site is in kcals and the dog food bags seems to list in grams...I need to figure out some conversion somewhere. Of course even fattening up the dog the right way can't be easy.)

In a month or so, we will go back to the vet and weigh Radar. Then, if he's gained weight we'll see if we can get the vet to listen to his lung again. Then we'll decide if we need just x-rays on the hips or the hips and the lungs. I am trying to decide if knowing what the hip issue is will help us figure out how to treat it.

The vet also said it looked to him like Radar had some minor hearing loss. Radar's ears twitched to the vet's clanging of metal lids behind him, but he was really mostly interested in the treat I was holding. Inconclusive at best. It seems like as time goes on his hearing gets better. I think some of it is that he's learning what the relevant sounds are (the garage door means Iggy is home, the doorbell means someone new is about to come in, etc). And I think a lot of is that his name wasn't Radar...and now that he's learned to respond to that name we're stuck with it. (There was also a Hawkeye and a Trapper at the shelter...)

He probably does have selective hearing too. We all do, right? Choose to hear what we want to hear... ;-)

At any rate, today we decided to delay phase 2 of our master plan. On about an hourly basis I oscillated back and forth: get a puppy now because Radar seems to love other dogs and desperately wants to play on our walks? Or give Radar time to settle in and convince him that we're his family (he is so friendly that he'd go home with anyone!)? The "give Radar some time" side won out. So we missed out on the super-grumpy-but-totally-cute Frank

and the possibility of owning an intriguging Sharpei/Mastiff mix.


I am assuming that there will always be cute puppies to adopt, right?

New Year, New Dog

We lost our dog last summer. It took a while to want to get a new one, but sometime time fall we decided to get one after we got home from our Christmas/New Year's trip.

We both knew we wanted to adopt from a rescue, the pound, the Dumb Friends League, etc. I think my husband wanted a puppy because you have the greatest chance to mold their personalities and the least chance of getting unusual issues. I have always wanted to adopt an older dog. I worry that they won't get the second chance. If I am truthful I want to adopt all dogs. I have a hard time choosing. In fact that was why in college I ended up with a grey and a black cat -- how do you choose just one?

The dog I had picked out from the web was an 11-yeat-old bulldog with "special needs." We saw her and she was really cute, but some of her special needs led to the conclusion that she would be best in a one-dog household. We haven't entirely ruled out getting a puppy. My second choice was another 11 year old, a beagle. She was cute and lovable to the handler we saw. However on our visit with her she wanted nothing more than to be on the other side of the door. The counselor said she was "independent" but to me it seemed we stressed her out. She would probably get over that eventually... The next dog we saw we took home. An 8-year-old yellow lab. He has a decided limp which I guess could be the precursor to arthritis or hip displasia. The vet there checked it out and said it was currently ok but to see if our vet wanted us to start him on something for joint pain...

We're in our settling in phase. I tried a walk with the dog...he tugs a bit, wants to greet every dog, every person we meet, and would like to hop in any car for a ride. So we don't have to worry about him being friendly. But he might try to go home with anyone with treats or a car! He had his first accident. We've had two or three dozen trips outside as we're trying to learn the signals for that. The only time I've heard him bark so far is on walks -- when he thinks other dogs should come over and play. He slept through the night the first night.

Dad Project (or Why I am Not A Project Manager)

I am thinking about starting to keep track of my home improvement projects.  I would like to see if they are as ridiculous as they feel.

A month or so ago my parents were coming out to visit me.  We always do a lot of things that I think my mom and I are totally into.  And I feel like my dad just sorta gets dragged along...so I had this brilliant (hopefully you can feel the sarcasm there) idea that I would think up a "Dad Project."  Thus the idea was born that my dad would help me refinish the upstairs guest bathroom.  

While I'm not a project manager, I work on projects all the time at work and I'm familiar with risk analysis, boundary conditions, scope creep and all that.

And every single home improvement escapade I have been involved with has had issues with planning, scope and how to define when you're done.

So before proposing this fantastic bonding experience idea to my dad, I decided to set the boundaries.

Me:  Dad - would you be interested in helping me with a little home project when you guys visit next month?

Dad:  What do you have in mind?

Me:  The upstairs guest bathroom.  You know how I called you 15 times to help me through replacing the sink faucet, fixing the tile in the shower, re-grouting the shower tiles and re-caulking everything around the shower a year ago?

Dad:  Yes...

Me:  Well, I thought you and I could re-do the floor -- just linoleum like you showed me how to do in my old condo and put in a new vanity.  So sorta finish out the renovation.  And I thought it would be faster and more fun if you were here to show me how to do some of that -- like remove the old vanity and help me do the linoleum around the toilet since that seems more difficult than what we did last time.  And I replaced the toilet seat recently so it's new.

Dad: That sound do-able.  How big is the bathroom?

Me:  Gosh.  Hang on, let me get the tape measure out.  But I can almost touch all the wall when I stand in the middle.  Except the shower wall.

Dad:  Ok.  6x9 probably.  Are there issues with anything?  Like plumbing leaks?  Or cracks anywhere.

Me:  Hey, yeah, 6 by almost 9.  No, I, er, *we* fixed that moldy tile and the stuff we did last time is holding up fine.  Except I really should clean that gritty stuff off the tiles still.

Dad [pointedly ignoring that I didn't finish the grout job]:  Then should we paint too and put a frame around the mirror?  You know, just to really spruce it up.

Me:  No, I don't think so.  I want this to be something we can do on Sunday and Monday while you're here and then you guys can go up to your cabin in the mountains.

Dad:  Ok, sounds fun.  Take an inventory of your tools and let me know what I need to throw in the car on the way our there.  But think about the paint.  It's relatively cheap and it makes a lot of difference.

I did think about the mirror frame.  So much so that I found a lovely example of what I wanted:  teal frame around the mirror, brushed nickel hardware and dark woodwork.  Since our house has dark walnut finish on all the doors, floorboards and accents it seemed like a natural fit.  And a way to save some money.

But that mirror thing ended up costing about $300 more ($80 for the new mirror to be cut down since the home-improvement store won't cut mirrors they didn't sell, $50 for paint and chair-rail type boards to do the framing and drywall screws to hang it, plus $180 for a new mirror and $20 for hanging supplies).

And inevitably the project took an extra day of my parents' vacation.  Then it took an extra 3 weeks for me to fiddle with the mirror frame and finally decide it wasn't going to work and 1 more week of dragging Iggy to several stores to find a replacement mirror since the old one turned out to be way too big and I couldn't make the new one work.

So what I intended to be a 2-day, $500 ($300 for the new vanity, $80 for linoleum and some random supplies) was instead probably an $800 project and took 4 days of work, and 45 calendar days.


On the up side it turned out really well.  It inspired Iggy to want to do more.  So this weekend we bought His-N-Hers projects.  Of course, Iggy's project (replace the kitchen light that broke last year when the new roof was installed) is done and my project (paint the dining room wall) is still in progress.


Clearly we know why I'm not a project manager now...


In case you're wondering, here's the before:

And the After:

I'm Allergic to Power Point

So...just got off the phone with 100 of my co-workers.  And I had to present a slide to them.  I truly hate public speaking with PowerPoint slides whether it is to 5 or 500 people.  I don't know why.  If you want me to go to a client and stand up in front of them and talk about our product I can do that all day.  And you can throw questions at me in that situation that I don't know or expect and I can think on my feet.  But give me some PowerPoint and I start sweating and my voice quavers and I start wondering if it's possible the world might conveniently end before my presentation comes up.

This one was initiated this morning by my boss emailing the team leads saying "I can't make the meeting - which of you wants to volunteer to present this at the global team meeting?"

I thought it would be clever to deflect that one by saying "I volunteer so-and-so."  Be careful what you say because on a teeny-tiny blackberry screen you boss only sees "I volunteer..."

Anyways.  I got all my words out without choking or sneezing or more than 25 ums or 50 sos.  [ "So we put 5 things on the um agenda because they're super-important.  So first up is um..." ]  Minimal add-on comments were needed by the big boss.  So I would say it was a marginal success.

And the world didn't end.  That I know of.

I was thinking about how far I've come (if I do say so myself) in my "career."  "Career" is quoted because I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up.  If you could make finger-quotes in the air while reading this, it would be good.  I most often picture myself as a sort of James Bond spy who flies in, assesses the situation, figures it all out, fixes it and then flies on to the next cool spot.  I did want to be a spy when grew up.  Or a detective.  Or maybe a veterinarian.

I've always wanted to travel internationally for business.  I actually got my first taste of that earlier this year.  Granted it was "only to Canada" and they speak English...  But it was a start!  I realized when I got back that I did it all wrong too.  I did my typical fly-in-the-night-before-at-midnight-so-I-don't-miss-any-time-at-home and then I was only there for a day and a half and flew right back out.  Because of the time change I was so wiped out that I didn't even got out for dinner my one evening there -- I just had room service and worked!  That's ok behavior if you're being sent to places like Bismarck or some small town in North Carolina or even Cincinnati.  But not if you have to take a passport to get to your destination!  Clearly I have some learning to do about how to do it right.

It was weird to answer at immigration the question "What is the purpose of your trip?"  "Business meeting with a client."  "What client?" And I don't think I was very convincing because the guy asked me like 10 more questions.

The sort of funny thing was that I didn't really even think about the fact that this is a teeny step in the direction of being an international business traveler until a month later.  But I did think about the fact that there were literally 100 people on the phone today from different places including Europe, Australia and all the time zones in the US.

Anyways, those were my 2 big unexpected events so far in 2011:
- traveling internationally for work
- presenting to 100 people around the globe.

Sounds way more glamorous than it was.  I still don't like presenting PowerPoint slides either.