House Makeover: True Crime Edition

A sight for sore eyes...

That basement bathroom of ours being renovated? The one that had 45-year-old fixtures, 1980's wallpaper, and the ugliest green linoleum floor you can imagine? It's starting to look so beautiful, it almost makes me want to cry. Tears of gratitude and relief, to be sure, that we don't have that eyesore to look at anymore; but also tears of regret, that we didn't do this sooner. I should have robbed a bank or something, just to get the money. It would have been worth it.

I love this room beyond measure.

I wish I could say the same for the rest of our formerly functional basement. It's still in what I like to call the haunted house phase of renovation: exposed cinder block walls, wires hanging out, floor ripped up. It looks like a great place to hold a murder right now.

I don't know why I wrote that. I don't even know what that is supposed to mean. All I know is that I now have a bathroom that brings to mind a bank robbery and a basement that screams out for a horror-movie style execution. Is that normal? No, it is not.

In other money-spending topics, my newly more expensive minivan doesn't make the funny noise anymore. See what $1250 will get you? I brought it home and Larry said, "Did you have them change the oil while it was there?"

No, I didn't. I couldn't bring myself to spend even one more penny at that point. I have to draw the line somewhere, you know.

Oh, and upnitestx, I need your address to send you the Yarn Harlot book you won. Thinking I'd missed your email, I checked in the spam box on my gmail account, and it's a good thing I did. I found an email from a Dr. Kennedy Uzoka, and it turns out I have over a million dollars waiting for me in a bank in Benin.

You know, if I had known that earlier, I would have sprung for that oil change, after all.