Just got the call that our application to rent the house has been accepted!!! I did not ruin anything with my stupidityyyy!!!! Wooooo! This realtor is awesome and was totally understanding of my worrying!!! And my mom has now forgiven me! Lol. If you have no idea what the heck I’m on about skim the previous post. 😛
I really try my best to be an adult. But jeebus, I am really bad at being one…especially when life is at its shittiest.
I suppressed my anger when things at work or life went awry. I pushed aside my fury when I was ignored while talking which happens every fek’n day; it’s like no one listens to me. I get tuned out like static from a radio! I’ve done my best to overcome the barrage of health issues that were so kind to hit me all at once. And I’ve done my best to keep it together as bad luck decided to smother itself on my family and me.
All that trying to keep it together and looking passed the many moments where I was let down or hurt by others just flew out the window yesterday. The incident that sent the tower crumbling was my own doing, I suppose. To my mom, I screwed up with the application sent in for a town home that we had found a couple days ago. We were able to send in applications because FINALLY the buyers of our home received word that the bank approved their damn loan. Apparently, they had to tell us a week before closing. But seriously, you fek’n need nearly two months to figure shit out, Mr. Bank? You could’ve at least told us you’d wait ’til the last minute!
Sooo, back to the application. Mom had told me to keep it short and simple by only mentioning the rental history we have with her and dad; Sean and I currently rent from them. As I was nearing the end of our application I thought “Y’know, I really think it’d help out if I add the time Sean and I stay at the apartment complex because it shows we’re responsible and pay on time! And it’ll stand out more because it isn’t us just paying rent to my parents but to an actual establishment!” Yeaaaaa, that’ll make us shine and be accepted by the landlord and realtor! *angelic music plays*
I get a message from the realtor midday yesterday. She tells me everything is GREAT which makes me proud of all the work I did in filling out those password protected applications via computer because we don’t have a working printer nor the program, Adobe Acrobat Pro. Yea, all that I just mentioned wasn’t fun trying to figure out how to do especially when the documents can’t be filled in. They made it un-editable by saving it as SECURE and even when you manage to get it to an editable state you need a pdf editor to fill it in.
She then says that one thing that’s holding things up is the leasing office from that old apartment Sean and I stayed. The one I thought would help us sooo much to mention. The person doing the background check called them and left a message but hadn’t received any word from them yet. She suggested I make a call to push the leasing office to get back to the realtor’s office so things can move along faster.
I begin to panic and remember that the apartment complex wasn’t exactly QUICK about things. And then my mom’s words echoed in my brain. I began to stress out mainly because I could hear her complaining—everything she’d say because I didn’t listen to her. I don’t know if it’s because my mom’s Filipino but when wrong has been done, she makes you feel the error of what you’ve done to the point where you just want to shrivel up and disintegrate.
So, I call the leasing office and explain the scenario to the lady who answers. I find out the only people listed on the lease for the apartment is my bestie, Mary, and me because we were listed as primaries. The only mention of Sean is in the first part of the signed hard copy documents stating he’d just be an extra occupant. At the time, Sean was still going through the latter process of the Fiance Visa and becoming a permanent resident. I was supporting him fully. He didn’t get to help with rent until halfway through the lease when he finally got his work authorization card.
I then check to make sure she has the correct number and name of the person from the realtor’s office that she needs to get back to. Afterwards, she tells me she’ll call them shortly and I sincerely thank her. I then am left to wonder if she called back or not. I start to freak out because what if I messed everything up by not writing everything in detail??? I didn’t get to write down Sean wasn’t a primary and that he couldn’t help pay for rent until he received everything he needed from the government! The stress builds up to the point where I’m an emotional mess.
I get home and snuggle up to Sean and tell him that I am not made for all this madness.I then go downstairs and accidentally share with mom that I’m stressed. She asks why and then it starts. The look of “are you an idiot?”, the frustration that I didn’t listen to her, and the mention of betrayal because I added in more extra shit when she said not to because we’re racing against time. See, we need to know everything by Friday. My aunt, our realtor, has to submit an addendum asking that we lease for 12 days after closing so we have time to hopefully move into our hopefully new temporary home.
I begin to scream like a toddler on a rampage. I yelled and screamed asking why the heck she has to always get angry at everything. Why she has to find fault in everything we do. How I wanted to write down what I did because it isn’t just her and dad that they’re looking at which is why they asked all of us to fill in the application. Sean and I are like partial liabilities in all this! I wanted something legit to back us up while trying to get this town house. That was all.
But my mom made it sound like I stabbed her. That I failed her and possibly screwed up everything. So, I snapped. I don’t know how long I yelled, stamped and flailed but I was letting everything out: all the suppressed anger and unhappiness. Her eyes go wide and she asks what are all these “things” I’m stressing about, says I brought stress on myself by doing what I did, and at some point asked “Why are you so dramatic?!”
Yea, I know this was the second time in my adult years that I’ve snapped to this extent. But, to have everything I said be ignored and labeled as dramatic because everything I said was just nonsense to a mom who only sees black and white? I had no want to explain everything that caused me stress because she wouldn’t really listen. She’d only see what was stupid or pointless to be worrying about. It wouldn’t matter if I have trouble handling stress or that I have a horrible habit of worrying about anything and everything.
I stormed off. Nothing I’d say would reach her because there is no sympathy in her for me and dad. We do something “stupid” and that’s all there is to it.
I write an email to the realtor of the town home. I tell her Sean wasn’t a primary and that I’m worried I made the process longer by not putting in those details of the lease we had at the apartment complex. I also tell her about how we only have until Friday for the addendum to lease our old home while we move. She kindly responds saying that it should be okay and she’ll check on things tomorrow…which would be today.
I’m avoiding my mom. I did at least tell her that I contacted the realtor and that she would check on the situation. But, it didn’t matter. I still messed things up and disappointed my mom.
I am so tired of all this. I need a vacation.
Ever have that feeling that something bad will happen? A gnawing intuition that something is amiss? I feel that. It’s a heavy cloud that sheds no rain but lingers ahead of my path.
I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t like it. It’s one bad instance after the next that I’m encountering and it just seems like there’s more to it than bad luck. The annoying part—all I can do is wait for whatever it is to pass.
The buyers are still waiting on word from the bank for approval. It’s been nearly two months, and we’re all bound to a single word from a bank that has been known to be strict with loans. We still haven’t found a home to rent. With so many homes, we can’t seem to get one. They go so quickly. Now we have to rent from our OWN buyers for two weeks once the whole closing happens. We’re losing money from this whole thing.
Work is becoming harder to deal with. Even though I am now only part time, it feels like I’m entering a place with mines laid out everywhere. Heck, the other day I snapped at my own work comrade and ex-supervisor because she thought I wasn’t working on the graphics for the proposal that is due. I was so upset that she thought I wasn’t working…I just snapped.
I always get my work done and she knows this. But because I was leaning back on my chair (I move around on that chair like a restless creature because of my back pain) and looking at something that appeared to be too happy to be related to work, she doubted me. I responded like a moody teenager at a nagging mom. She was taken aback. I didn’t mean to raise my voice and say “I AM WORKING ON MY WORK!” like some angsty child but it came out like that. She then said that I wasn’t working and was looking at ocean waves. I explained and showed her that behind those waves was the cover of the proposal I was designing. THOSE WAVES were going on that damn cover.
And behind that cover were four graphics I was working on. I NEED to take breaks from each design. I work on one for while, then go to the next, and so on. If I don’t allow myself to see something different after an hour I go nuts. So, I’m sorry if I’m not hunched over my desk only looking at the same kind of fek’n charts for hours on end. I can only work on fek’n charts for so long before my brain starts to shut down and go off into sleep mode! *flails arms about angrily*
I was hoping being social would help relieve the tension and stress from work and this whole house/rent business. So around 9PM my husband and I head out to a restaurant and pub. Yea, I know I can’t drink alcohol because of my Endometriosis, but in the first hour I took a few sips of cheap red wine which was enough to help me relax. I didn’t finish the wine because it tasted awful, lol. After a couple hours of eating and rambling about movies and pastimes with my husband and his coworkers we decide to call it a night. It was about 12AM when we headed off for home. Then the night turned into a short-lived nightmare.
So, here we are driving all relaxed but very tired. I take a wrong turn. In my head I’m thinking “DAMNIT I should’ve used my google maps app!” but I was just so tired. And I was hoping for once I’d have a good sense of direction to get home. My husband decides to use his google maps. It led us into the highway.
Highway, that’s fine, right? No. You’re looking at someone who hyperventilates on highways. Driving passed 45-50 mph sends me into high anxiety. I hate driving in general, by the way. So, I panic. My husband then misreads the map and advises me to take a wrong turn.
This wrong turn sends us into a three lane section that is barred off from the main highway. I have noooo idea what we’re on and where it’s going. Google maps is rambling its head off and I turn livid when I see the dreaded logo, EZPASS, as we pass a sign saying we’re heading to so-and-so city.
My angry ramblings set off my husband who told me to calm the fek down because we can’t do anything but go forward or take the left exit roads which I think led to EZPASS toll roads. The whole time I think we’re doomed. I’m going to receive a fine because my husband and I suck at reading maps and because I turn stupid when I panic and didn’t see that we had entered some section of the highway meant for EZPASS travelers.
After three to four minutes of driving in these lanes, there is finally an opening on the far right that allows us to enter the main/normal highway. We immediately get back onto this part of the highway we meant to get on in the first place and then it all goes blurry. A stampede of cars just happened to be right on our tails as I’m merging.
It’s the weirdest feeling knowing that I shouldn’t be hyperventilating but still am doing so. It’s like my body decided to put my logic in the corner and let loose the years of suppressed fear I had always thrown aside. I kept desperately trying to change lanes in time before our exit passed us. I was able to but the whole time I felt like everything was surreal. I felt horribly nauseous as well and my eye sight was going blurry.
I returned to my senses when I heard my husband saying I did well and that we’re almost there. Lol, made me think of how a husband would try to comfort his wife giving birth. He knew I had an illogical fear but he kept comforting me and he was able to direct us to a point where I finally recognized where we were.
When we finally got home at 1 AM, I opened my door and threw up. Lol, there was no stopping the motion. My whole body just finally stopped being tense from the anxiety build up and BLEAH. After happily going to our room my husband hugged me, we snuggled the dogs and passed out.
So, now I’m awaiting a possible notice from EZPASS, waiting for my job to unravel, and for some miracle to occur to save us from becoming homeless.
I was going to write about this on Sunday, but I got busy. Plus, it’s a story that I’m not happy about. I can never forget my mistakes in life. I hate the mistakes and hate how annoyingly idiotic I was, but the experiences did shape me.
So, where were we? Ah, yes…8th grade and the final boy I asked out in my dating adventure. His name is C. He was a friend I often chatted with during class. We’d just talk about random things like Pokemon. The way he looked back then reminds me of the film, Pleasantville: 1950s parted haircut, shirt always tucked nicely in, and always seemed shiny in pictures.
I asked him out and he said yes. He was pretty happy.
I, on the other hand, felt nothing which was anti-climatic. I mean it felt good to finally have someone actually WANT to date me but I wasn’t gushing. I was supposed to be smitten, excited, and eager!
So there I was. Finally someone’s girlfriend. The first thing we did was hang out together with our buddies. I can’t remember who had went with me (I think Steph and Veronica?) but we all went to C‘s house along with a few other classmates. We had fun and goofed off. The other classmates then locked C and me in a room to kiss. We did. Quickly. I think we even tried another quick kiss.
I didn’t feel anything. I was expecting the whole butterfly thing. I was a bit nervous but there weren’t fireworks. I blame my ignorance and romance movies for my high expectations of what I was supposed to be feeling.
Time passed within our relationship. We went laser tagging, hung out at the mall, and saw movies. We held hands here and there. We talked on the phone. I can’t remember much else other than that he was attentive with gifts. It’s hard to explain because this all happened eighteen years ago and what happened later on is what remains clear in my memories.
He should’ve never said yes to me.
I think a few months or so had passed. I remember wanting to break up. I was hanging out with Veronica at her place and I vented to her. Her cousins came by and we played tennis with them to pass the time. One of her cousins was named Gustavo. He had a certain charm about him. My wanting to break up coupled with his charm made me weak enough to give him a quick kiss when he and I were alone. Nothing else happened but back then that was big.
And if you’re wondering why I keep calling it a quick kiss… well, that’s exactly what it was. I literally gave pecks like some chicken pecking for seeds. Except my mouth would be pressed shut. And every time I’d pull away after a second or two had passed. I was scared of intimacy. Plus, I just wasn’t really an intimate person in general. Hugs and holding hands was fine but when it came to cuddling, kissing, or anything further I was usually awkward or uncomfortable. I remember even finding ways to avoid being held for too long. I have no idea why I was like this. I didn’t really overcome all that until college.
Anywho, I felt like shit after what I had done. I was prepared to talk to C the next morning, tell him what I had done and that he and I should break up. By the way, I really do believe in Karma. Any time I ever did something ignorant and inconsiderate, I got my ass kicked when I least expected it.
The next day at school, the majority of my class marched up to me. I got scolded by An (a girl who I will not name because I just don’t want to say it, lol), who looooved to stir the drama pot. The look on her face looked like she was happy I was being put in my place. I don’t think she ever really liked me and she had “lost” my favorite ring that my cousin had given to me after I had let her try it on. I didn’t ever trust her after that.
She had informed C of the kiss I gave Gustavo and when she had her say, the class walked on passed me. I was quite pissed. The only way An would have known is if Veronica told her. I was also pissed because I wanted to explain to C myself. Not have HER tell him.
I walked up to him before class started. We talked, I apologized and we ended things. An putting me in my place wasn’t the end of Karma’s plan. Karma wanted to bitch slap me good. C had really liked me and I had really hurt him.
I think it was around the middle of high school when he had entered my life again. I had grown less stupid about people’s emotions and I was more invested with my actions and feelings within relationships. I had felt closer to him than I did before when we had met again and we mutually decided to give it another go. The sad part was that he was not as invested in the relationship which in hindsight should’ve been expected.
The relationship was short-lived. I found out that he had made out with my friend, Leslie, while he and I were still together. Leslie had no idea that I was dating him at that time. She had feelings for him once and I guess it had escalated when they got to hang out during the summer.
The next time I saw him, he was cold towards me. Me, Leslie and the group of friends I had made through her had gathered at one of their houses. C was also invited. Everyone played games into the night. I was having a good time. Then the group took a break to go to the bathroom and get some more grub. I was sitting at the long table we all had been sitting at and not far beside me sat C.
Apparently I had been pissing him off all night by just being there and my laughing must’ve sounded like nails to a chalkboard to him. When I had laughed once again at something (I cannot remember what it was), he told me to shut up or he’d punch me. I can’t remember if there was an expletive within that sentence but I do remember the punch part. I was stunned and felt winded.
He had hurt me but it’s what I deserved. I had pretty much set myself up for everything that happened after what I had done. *sigh* I still get upset at myself whenever those memories resurfaces.
At the age of 12, everything was still just for fun. The environment that I was in was so laid back that I didn’t learn the full weight of my actions until I went on this dating venture. Everything shifted from lighthearted to a lot more serious and I wasn’t ready for the serious.
The first day of finding a suitor was relaxed. No one other than my close friends knew I was going to start asking boys out. I wanted to start out safe so I approached (for their sake and mine I’ll only use their first or first two letters of their name) CH. Whenever I think of CH, I think of kindness, politeness, and his baby face. I swear, he was the type of guy you just wanted to hug the moment you meet him.
I took him by surprise by coming over to him before class began. As calmly as I could, I asked if he would like to go out with me [on a date]. He smiled for a moment then immediately looked like he felt bad at knowing he’d have to let me down. And he did so in a gentle way and then apologized. I actually felt bad for even asking because he was being so nice and I told him that there was no need for apologizing and that I understood.
The next day, I got a little braver. It was some time before lunch and the class was either on break or it ended early, I don’t know. I just remember everyone being spread out and doing their own thing. I had a crush on A since second grade. He had a sporty, exotic look about him. He was like me, half and half. I don’t remember if he was also half Filipino and half white or if he had both Hawaiian along with the Filipino but you can get the vibe of his appearance from that sort of mixture.
He was pretty popular and quite outgoing. I asked him just as quickly and plainly as I asked CH if he would like to go out with me. He looked taken aback by the whole thing and said he couldn’t. And then some part of me wanted to milk the situation and I jokingly asked “Is it because I’m ugly? Do you not like me?” and he was like “No no no, that’s not it!”
It wasn’t until later that it dawned upon me. I had completely forgotten that I had seen him hugging my friend’s older sister a week before. And it wasn’t “OH HI, BRO!” hugging, it was cuddle hugging. I felt so bad that I had put him on the spot because apparently it was all supposed to be a secret. Plus, the whole scene put me and my suitor seeking on the radar. The majority of the class knew but I still kept going.
One night, I called my best friend, Steph. I had told her my plan of calling one of the boys (felt it would be better than putting him on the spot at school.) His name was M and I had known him since first grade. The first day I met him, I had just returned for the first time to my childhood school. Money was often a factor in why I was temporarily in another school instead of the one I loved. Despite the price of private schools my mom was adamant that I was always in one.
Back to my first encounter with M: My first grade teacher had asked if I wanted to be introduced to the class. I responded, “Nah, that’s okay. I know everyone because I used to go here.” She smiled and then told me to go to an empty seat in the back. I complied and looked at each face I passed. I did not recognize the blonde haired, stern-faced boy sitting in front of the desk I was heading to. As I sat down, I tapped on his shoulder and he looked at me with such an intimidating expression that I nearly choked on my words.
“I’m sorry, I actually don’t know you. What’s your name?”
He gave me a look like I just asked the dumbest question in the world and turned to face the front without responding. That was M. He was prideful, didn’t deal with stupidity, and always appeared to have other more important things on his mind than school. He was a bit kinder whenever I came across him during the rest of elementary. But in junior high, it always felt like there was a wall around him.
I dialed a three-way-call on the phone which my friends and I often did during not-so-lively summers. Steph was still on the line and silent. M answered and instead of asking him out, I ended up talking to him for just a few minutes. I think I chickened out and I can’t even remember what I said to him or him to me. The next day, I stopped M in the hallway at school. Steph was clinging to my arm and smiling wide.
Before I could even open my mouth he said,”No.”
“But you don’t even know what I was gonna ask!” I yelled while trying not to laugh.
“Because you called me last night.”
He had walked off with a smile and was laughing to himself. I was laughing. Steph was laughing. It was an abrupt let down but I didn’t even care because I found it all funny.
At this point, I was running out of crushes. I decided to ask the boy I had a crush on since 4th grade, D. I decided to ask him during class. I made sure to sit next to him at the two-seater tables we had for that particular classroom. He and I were friendly but not close. I always remember his grandma who was the nicest person ever and she always greeted and talked to me whenever she saw me.
When the class got rowdy, I chose that time to ask. I asked him while staring at the floor. I felt a little closer to him than the rest so I was a bit more nervous in this attempt. When I received no answer, I looked up and saw that his back was to me. He turned around and asked “What?” and my heart dropped.
“Uuhhh, nothing, nevermind!” 😀
“Hah, okay.” he said with a laugh and turned back to face his friend.
I then proceeded to plop my head onto the desk and wait for the day to end already. Around the 8th grade dance, I found out D was dating Steph and I was in shock. I was also glad I didn’t ask him again, lol. That would’ve made things awkward. After the shock subsided I just shrugged it off. I was having way more fun with the whole having a crush thing that I didn’t mind not having him as a boyfriend. Plus, my friends meant way more to me than he did, lol.
I realized that I had no more crushes to ask. When I decided to ask the final guy out, it began the events that turned everything upside down. Everything else was lighthearted but this…was a long drama because I was a complete moron. I kind of wish I never did ask him. I feel like having just stayed friends would’ve made everyone’s life a lot easier. I’ll share that story tomorrow because it’s a long one.
From middle until junior high, I was a girl with way too many crushes.
I don’t count nursery through first grade because it was nothing but adorable puppy love. We were two hyper four year old munchkins. His name was Francisco and he was my best buddy. I don’t remember much other than knowing he was my best buddy and that the feeling I had for him turned into a one sided puppy love in first grade because life happens.
Years later, my mom shed more light on the relationship I had with him. Apparently she often saw us together and whenever I had to leave the nursery I would cry. As soon as the water works started, Francisco would comfort me by telling me I needed to go home and that he’d see me tomorrow. He’d then get my little velcro sneakers and I would slip my feet into them as he held them.
Y’know, looking back he was just a really caring type of kid. I think as time passed I missed that kind of care and attention which could’ve fed into the needy phase I had when puberty hit…ANYWHO, moving on…
Elementary was a carefree point in my life. It was the time period for haphazard play and fun field trips. Boys didn’t factor much into my thoughts because I was too busy learning how to be social, that teasing friends I found adorably cute is wrong (long story there), and winning in class games such as Math Around the World made me feel like a bad ass.
When I reached the age of ten, winning and math took a side seat. I began to notice something I hadn’t noticed before: a boy’s appearance. My mind began to sift through each boy I saw and pick out which ones I found the most attractive. Personality didn’t even mean anything to me yet. It was just “that boy is seriously cute and I can’t stop looking at him” and this led to a bit of drama. It was a boy who was so pretty he could’ve been a model. His girlfriend was the queen of the roost and whatever she said was law. It was amazing how much power she held.
In the hell that was 11th grade (where I had become a depressive moron; another long story there), the queen allowed her boyfriend to dance with me at the dance social. I felt like I was being pitied for the crush I had on him. I just wanted to admire him from afar, not be with him. But I probably appeared pathetic to her, her boyfriend and the majority of the class especially after trying every wrong way to fit in. But yea, dancing with him was the most awkward thing in the world. We literally danced as if someone was standing in between us, lol; our arms were outstretched like zombies.
Fast forward a year, I had escaped the school I was stuck in for two years and had returned to my original, childhood school. Amid the happiness and fun I was having being back with my old friends, the irksome “need” to pay attention to boys was still there. I literally found half the boys in my class attractive. But this time around, it wasn’t looks alone that was getting my attention. It was their quirks and personality. I found myself being pulled in by guys that portrayed a lot of self-confidence, cuteness and/or a tendency for sarcasm.
It was around this time that I discovered dating was prominent in our pre-teen lives. Dating was a mystery to me. I didn’t know what to do or how to go about it. All I knew is that I wanted to experience it. But before even reaching the point of experiencing it myself, I observed. Lol, AH GAHD, why was I sucha creeper back then?! – Imagine: Hiiii, I’m just watching you guys be a couple! Don’t mind meee watching as I walk byyyy. Just keep doing boyfriend-girlfriend thiiiiings!”
How could I not at least take some time to learn from watching??? I couldn’t just delve into the world of dating without knowing a thing. And I didn’t have access to internet yet so this was as good as it was going to get in the learning department, lol. It wasn’t until 8th grade that I felt I was ready to experience dating and my friends seemed quite eager to follow me around in my attempts to find a suitor.
I will share the rest tomorrow because work is finally done and I wanna go hoooooome. I added pt 1 to the title after realizing what time it was, lol. Sorry ’bout that.
Until next time… *tips imaginary top hat*
Soooo, we lost the townhouse we were trying to rent. Even though we’re STILL waiting to be told whether or not the people buying our house has been approved by their bank, the time frame wasn’t the culprit. It was because when the realtors representing the townhouse we wanted to rent researched our backgrounds, they looked up the wrong person when they looked into my father. They assumed, despite having a completely different social security number and middle name, that my dad was this other nutter from down south who has the same first and last name.
Good job, guys… that’s reaaally using your noggin. And thanks for assuming he was the worst of the worst from whatever list was conjured up during the “background check.” Makes me wonder how focused they [and the credit company they work with] are when they go through the paperwork. Though I guess there are so many homes and people on the waiting lists they have to go through it just becomes a mess. But the part of me that doesn’t want to give any empathy can only assume they are partially blind since they missed the fact my dad wrote down “R” as his middle initial and not “D” whose was the initial of the randomer they assumed my dad was.
If this has taught me anything…I am NEVER going to rent from anyone from that realty company or deal with renting in general after this year (we still need a place to rent, lol.) Once we move and my parents buy that house they want in Florida, I’m saving as much money as I can. Sean and I are going to buy the house we live in when we move to Ireland. Ain’t dealing with no rent shit and people looking up the wrong person because imaginary pepper spray found its way into their eyes while they were doing an apparently-not-thorough background check.
I’m steaming more than I would normally because I am just not having that great of a day. One thing after the next is popping up at work and I’m making so many mistakes. I’m getting upset at myself and am tired of the butt load of proposals they decided to work on all at once despite having such a small staff to work on them. It’s times like these that I just want to have a punching bag nearby.
Oh, btw, despite their rejecting our application because of their mistake, they had already taken the $2000 we put down for the rent and security deposit. My dad is currently telling them to give us the money back.
A part of me is hoping he tells them they need glasses 😀
The internet pulled me in again and enticed me with DIY backpacks. This project took a loooong time. I could’ve used a sewing machine but I’m an idiot when it comes to restringing that shizz. Even when I think I’m following the simple directions my string will break or tangle. Soooo, I decided to sew it by hand.
It’s my first time ever making something like this. It turned into a drawstring backpack because in my haste to complete it before a bestie’s wedding, I forgot to sew on the cover and decided to just turn it into one of those gym drawstring bags…except its fancy (pinky out.)
I bought PU [faux] leather fabric at KN Store on Amazon:
NOTE: If you get the white PU leather fabric, which I had first done, be aware you might receive a light brown fabric instead. Mine were labeled Bleach White but they had accidentally put in a light brown fabric in the packaging. To avoid another possible mishap with that selection I just went with gold and silver instead.
I then followed this young lady’s instructions on YouTube for the outside and inside (liner) of the body. I measured/marked so that my bag would be 13.5″ height, 9″ width and 5″ depth.
Several yards of string and many pins later I completed the main body of my backpack and gave the thing a good wash since it smelled and felt like there was a film of chemicals on it. I had always washed my hands after touching the fabric and even wiped it down with white vinegar and water but it felt like it wasn’t enough so WOOSH into the washer with dye/perfume free detergent and fabric softener.
After that I went on to buy the accessories: gold grommet kit, gold drawstring (which is actually a gold faux leather waistband that is easy to trim and adjust), and a replacement 55″ faux white leather and gold chain shoulder strap.
I hammered in the grommets, weaved the drawstring through the holes (Note: I did not sew a small portion of the backpack so that I can easily manipulate the space between the liner and outside fabric), and then slipped the shoulder strap through the loops I made out of the KN Store PU leather fabric.
And VOI LA! A frumpy, drawstring backpack!…that still needs a string clamp so it doesn’t slid open…but it’s pretty much done! 😀 😀 😀
You can click on the thumbnails to see ’em closer if you wanna.
For the inside I only made one big pocket which I didn’t bother to make a liner for because I got lazy, lol. You can still see the pencil mark I made on its back to measure things out, lol.
It’ll be awhile before I start another project, lol. Too much going on right now.
My body likes routine. I should add that it likes a lazy routine…as in I do everything I HAVE to do first then I laze about the rest of the time. Alas, such a routine has now been thrust aside for the DEAR-GAHD-WHAT’S-HAPPENING routine.
We’re planning on moving to Florida with me parents next year. Until then we’re going to rent. First we had to sell the house we’ve lived in for 13 years (well, 10 years for me since I lived on my own for a few years after college.) From a certain standpoint, we’ve sold the house but since we haven’t heard that the financing for the buyer has been approved, we’re in limbo waiting for them to tell us what’s up. While that’s been happening, we’ve been looking at soooo many homes *twitch* so many. And dear Gandhi, I had no idea how bad some places could be.
In one scenario, because my mom was a bit too impatient she picked out a place on the list my aunt (the realtor) had. It was one my aunt highly suggested NOT seeing. We all went because mom has spoken.
It was like stepping into a backwater town.
The townhouse looked nearly dilapidated. Everything inside was from the 70s and was not properly cared for. The man who owns it is a cosmologist. He spoke about his home as if it were a beautiful cabin in the quiet countryside. I’m sure he literally saw it as such but to us it looked a mini tornado went on a rampage inside. He himself looked frazzled and reminded me of that mad scientist stereotype.
Then came the condo. We almost bought that sucker. I think mom was mainly happy about how close to work it was but the more I thought about it, the more I realized it was the exact opposite of what we all wanted. No fenced backyard, no space, no peace/quiet, and busy streets surrounded us. The latter had me envisioning our pup, Buddy, doing a runner and then WHACK…right into a car. I couldn’t sleep. I told my parents that I had a bad feeling about it and then found out mom was also having second thoughts. So after saying goodbye to $200, we canceled our hold on the condo (yay, for filing fees.)
I can happily say that we have finally found a townhouse and already put in a deposit buuuuut, we’re STILL waiting for the buyers to give us a confirmation on their finances. They’ve been pre-approved but we’re waiting on the final “Yea, they’re good to go!” from the bank. I’m praying it all just rolls along fine and that we get word from them soon. I just want it all to be done with.
Heck, what I really want is to be down in Florida rushing to Disney World then Harry Potter World with Sean. Seriously, that’s all I want. Well, that and the beach. I needs me some of that sunshine state!!!
OH, and I found out something about myself this week. I had been emo-tastic here and there whenever I heard about people getting pregnant but it seems that my mind has overcome this! A close artist friend of mine had sent me a text. It was of something she had made and it looks adorable. Her artwork just has this sweet, adorable simplicity about it. Anywho, she asked me to guess what I could see and that I had only one day to figure it out.
Well, I sent my guess before midnight BUT it was so late I didn’t know if it would count but I explained I was out all day looking at houses. I guessed that it is of two cute hand-sewn plushies of her and her husband in a cute house setting, which it is. Next morning she laughs and says that it’s all good about not answering ’til late but told me to look again.
This time I enlarged the photo and squinted reeeaaal hard. I then noticed the plushie of the husband was flat while the plushie of her was stuffed. Then it clicked.
I bombarded her with my guess, congrats, giddy-filled ramblings and asked how far along she was. Lol, this was the same reaction I had the day before when we got a text that Sean’s sister just gave birth. So, yea, I’m one tired but crazy, giddy person right now, lol.