Second Hand Shopping - Part Deux

Okay, I promised a part two to my second hand shopping story, so here it is. As our story left off, The Wagners were quite pleased with a purchase made at the second hand store New Uses in Orland Park, Illinois. They needed (and had found and purchased from New Uses) a "basement sofa." The definition of a basement sofa is one that is a little worn, definitely cheap, but not so gross or uncomfortable no one would want to sit on it.They also purchased a bookshelf, a fairly sizable print to hang above their family room sofa (acquired at our beloved hometown second hand store The Village Door) and a mirror. The bookshelf was for the basement because the Wagners have an exorbitant amount of books that need homes. The mirror for young David's room because apparently teen-aged boys like the looks of themselves and they need mirrors. Honestly, I did not know this - but David found a great primping mirror.

 This purchase was made on New Years Day, and  the Wagner's don't own a truck. The plan they concocted was to go to the nearby Lowe's and rent a truck, but since it was New Years Day at 5:30, Lowe's was closing and sadly could not rent us a truck. So we made arrangements to pick up our booty on Thursday January 3rd. Steve had a trip to Michigan on the second, so that was out.

Thursday January 3rd arrives and Steve looks at Giggy and says "You know hon, I am not sure that bookshelf we bought is gonna fit in the basement."

"Hum." I said, because that is what I say when nothing else comes to mind.

We do have a short basement. We decided to take along the measuring tape just in case the store employees would let us do an even trade. We headed off  to Menard's here in Homewood and rented a truck that would fulfill our purposes for a couple of hours. It was one of those "Rent me for 19.99" deals.

We arrived at the New Uses in Orland Park at about noon. At first the New Uses employees seemed to be useless. We explained that we had purchased some furniture and needed to pick it up. Now imagines the crickets and the wide-eyed girl staring at us like we were speaking Russian! 

Well the tape measure proved to be a good idea. The shelf was indeed too tall for our basement, but after going through two or three confused millennials the staff was very sweet and let us do an even swap for a bookshelf that would fit in the basement. Whew, crisis averted.

So, we loaded up the truck - sofa, sizable print, mirror, and some new throw pillows added to our purchase today. We were anxious to get home and finish setting up the basement, but I had noticed a second hand clothing store next to the second hand furniture store. We decided to check it out. Admittedly I don't do well with second hand clothing stores, but it looked like a nice store so we took a shot.

We were greeted with "Hello, everything is 50% off today." Woohoo!

I started browsing and found some incredible blazers for six bucks each. That meant I could get a blazer for like three dollars. That was too amazing to believe. I snatched three of them - a navy, a silver with intricate stitching and a purple one because first of all they were my size!!! And as Steve put it, "That's great hon everybody needs a blue blazer, and the grey blazer is verasitle and you look great in purple." Ok, I didn't really need the purple blazer, so when I found a wool Pendelton coat that would cost 15 bucks, I traded in the purple blazer for the coat. Steve had a great time shopping here too, he found a very cozy fleece lined jacket and some corduroy pants that look very nice on him might I add. We spent a total of $40 on all that! Great day.

We drove our Menard's truck happily home fiscally sated by our recent savings.

We got home and started unloading, the mirror and the print - no problem. The bookshelf, as always, was a pain in the ass, but we got 'er done!

Finally, we were giddy as we unloaded the deal of the day - our "new" Ethan Allen basement sofa. We took the cushions off and threw them in a pile on the basement floor knowing that moments later they would be neatly stacked upon our new basement throne. We returned, at this point just Steve and I, to get the sofa. I am not a lot of help moving sofas because they are big and heavy and awkward - and I have weenie arms. But I grabbed that sofa and we trucked it a couple hundred feet to our side door to slide it down those basement stairs when BOOM! It didn't fit through the door.

No problem. We will take it to the front door! Whew! Another crisis averted until BOOM we go to the kitchen.  The stove was in our way.

Well, let's take it back through the front door, back to the side door and try another position. Side door said - No No No.

Ok, (by this time Celia had gotten home and was helping me because my weenie arms were going fast).

OK! BACK THROUGH THE FRONT DOOR.

"We are gonna have to move the stove."
"I don't want to do that."
"I understand, but the stove is in the way!"
Shit!
Shut off gas. Move stove. Move the island (which is not a big deal because it is on wheels and isn't directly connected to a gas line that could explode us out of house and home.)

Kitchen clear - try again!

Just can't get it through the door.

"We are gonna have to take these doors off."
"What? Ok. Hum"
Shit
Side door off. Door leading to kitchen off.

Now we have to take it (the sofa) back out and around to the side door.

Celia: "What the fuck? Again?"

Still a No No No from the bare naked side door frame.
Double shit.

"What are we gonna do?"

Me: "EAT!!"

Me (sensing Steve's frustration and trying to be as comforting as one can with low-blood sugar) "We are smart people honey. We will figure it out."

So after hauling the sofa back inside and a trip to Menard's to turn in the truck, and a trip to Chipotle to fill my belly - we returned to our task of getting this goddamned sofa into the basement deciding the best way to furnish our basement with our new sofa.

"We could take the legs off."
"I don't think the legs come off."

Giggy begins ripping the fabric off the bottom of the sofa. "Nope, this is one big piece, but I think, yeah here is a screw, maybe we could take it apart.

And that is what we did. Well, that it what Steve did. It took him more than an hour to wrestle with the bottom frame of the sofa and unscrew the unbelievably long wood screws that were holding this piece of furniture together, but he finally got it apart.

We looked skeptically at one another.

"This is our last shot."
"Yep."

We carted the frame first because it was light and easy to carry. Out the front door around the patio to the side door, and DOWN THE BASEMENT stairs! Yahoo!

"Now we just have to get the sofa part."
"Yep. CCCeeeeeLLLLiiiAAA!"

The three of us, for the fourth time, hauled that (this time a legless - or bottomless to be more accurate) sofa to the bare naked side door. Just behind the side door there is a wooden fence. That fence was not allowing us to push the sofa as far back as we needed to get the sofa in the door.

"We just have like a half an inch to make it fit. Push."
"We have already torn it up enough besides that's way more than a half an inch."

PUSH!

Celia: "Mom, if you get over here and help me push the fence..."

PUSH the fence once... Push the fence while breathing

SUCCESS. The sofa was in the door.

And the moral of this  story is ... always measure your sofa.

UGH!! I love me! Dammit!

I am feeling overwhelmed today. I went to the library on Tuesday and checked out 4 books. (I only wanted one. Stephen King's 11/23/63, but it was out, and it had 19 holds on it.) So I got three budgeting books and one naked eating book. (I am not about to eat while naked, but apparently eating food that is naked can reap health benefits ;-)

Anyway, I started reading the naked eating book and the a "How you can be a total bad ass and save hundreds of dollars with coupons*" book. I'm not feeling so bad-assed.

The ladies in the coupon book are  trying to convince me that it doesn't take a lot of time to clip and use coupons and save beaucoup bucks. Then they tell me I have to be meticulous with timing so I can catch items on sale and use the coupon. What? Anyway, as negative as I sound right now, I am still going to try it.

Besides, today's blog post is sponsored by Linda Sherwood. She is a source of inspiration to me in many ways.

Today her blog post was about naming the things about self to love. We often, way too often find the things that we hate about ourselves, so in my quest to be more Zen, I will list at least 5 things I love about myself below:

1. I love that I have transformed myself into a being who is not quick to anger.
2. I love that I am not a hatta (hater). I am a loving, welcoming and accepting person.
3. I love that I am determined.
4. I love that I can let things go. Each day I unload some more baggage and am able to live more freely.
5. I love my sense of humor.

Wow, that was hard. What a great exercise. It was very difficult for me to list five things that I love about myself without explaining why someone else is responsible for it. It is difficult to focus on the good things about me and not reflect on the totally awesome people I share my life with everyday. It is difficult for me just to say - I love me.

Thanks Linda!!

* That is so not the real name of the book.

Life 2013 - Learning to Love Second Hand Shopping

I love the way my New Year got started. Steve, David, Luke and I were hanging around the house wondering what we could do. Celia was still in Kentucky, enjoying her shopping day with Nana. I suggested that we go to the mall, but boys don't really like that kind of shopping so I was fairly quickly vetoed. We contemplated taking the train into the city. That was a great idea except...it was 19 degrees outside and all the museums were closed because it was New Year's Day. So, when one doesn't want to brave the cold Chicago air while taking in the beauty surrounding Lake Shore Drive -- What is one to do? Go furniture shopping.

Yes, furniture shopping was second on our list. We really needed to get something comfy to sit on in our newly set up basement.

We commenced our search at Darvin's which is a huge furniture store in Orland Park. They were having a 50% off "sale." I was a bit overwhelmed with all the choices Darvin's offered. They had Broyhill, Thomasville, Lane and all kinds of wonderful name brand furniture. Still I was unimpressed with the choices of sofas. I was even more put off that prices were still often in the thousands of dollars and we were simply looking for a basement couch. It didn't help that  Luke was running around live a wild child jumping on furniture and disappearing from time to time.

I had noticed a second hand furniture store - New Uses - on 159th as we drove toward Darvin's. After spending a good hour in Darvins, fruitlessly searching, we decided to check out the new second hand store. At New Uses, Luke and I stayed in the car because I just knew that this place would not hold a candle to our beloved Village Door. This is our local second hand store in Homewood. We love shopping there because they have great stuff at very reasonable prices. We practically furnished our new house here in June. All the proceeds from the Village Door go to a cancer support center. I actually feel good after having purchased something from the Village Door. Another reason I opted to wait in the car is that Luke was being a total crank. After about 20 minutes, enough time for Luke to chow down on his McDonald's fries and start on the apple slices and tame the hungry bear. Soon, the guys returned. They had actually found some potential furniture.

Luke and I joined David and Steve and were also liking the basement couch which  turned out to be an Ethan Allen. Ethan Allen furniture is very sturdy (more on this in Part Deux).

We were very impressed with New Uses, which we later learned is a part of the Plato's Closet, Clothes Mentor line of second hand stores. We bought a sofa, a bookshelf, a painting and a mirror for David's room Thinking we were spending closer to $350, and very pleased with ourselves for being so frugal,  Steve was surprised when the clerk announced, "Your total is $235.18."

"Did you get the bookshelf on there?," Steve inquired.

"Everything is 30% off today!"

"This just keeps getting better and better," smiled Steve.

What a great way to start the New Year.

A reflection for the Bird

I tend to get a bit stressed at times. And when I get stressed I rant.

I don't really have a healthy outlet for my stress, although I must have looked pretty hilarious the other day as I was taking my dog for a walk and started dancing when "Black Betty" came on my Ipod. That's a good feeling for me because it has literally been years since I have danced. I don't think anyone saw me but a couple of red squirrels and a bunny rabbit, but even if another human being did see me and thought, What the hell is that woman doing? It wouldn'na made me no never mind.

Finally, I feel like me. That is such an amazing feeling. I am not the person I wanted to be. Hell no! I wanted to be articulate, professional, not a hair out of place, a c-cup, 24-inch waist, quick-witted - You know Cybil Shepard on Moonlighting, for those of you old enough to remember that show. But it ain't me. I can't remember the word for refrigerator half the time. I am not even going to go into bra size. I will just say it has been a cause for embarrassment for the greater part of my life. Professional - PFFFTTT! Oh, I do try, I want nothing more than to be a professional, and I just thought that the rules would be so absolute for professionalism, not so - not so. My quick wit comes anywhere from five minutes to three weeks too late. Dammit! But the great thing is that I am learning and that is the fine thing - I AM learning.

Therefore, no rants here, not tonight. I have almost completed the second semester of my Master's degree. I doubt my grades will reflect the actual learning that I have done. They won't be the grades that I want. These past two semesters have been challenging, understatement of the year, but nonetheless, they are behind me, I will learn from them and move forward. I am pleased with what I have accomplished in my first year as a graduate student. I have grown intellectually leaps and bounds in the past year. I have made decisions, I have faced losses, I have managed major live transitions all while undertaking graduate level courses and managing to grasp most of the difficult concepts that come from those courses.

I don't like sounding my own bell. But today I danced.

Dodgeball is one of the stupidest sports ever invented.

There are memories that I have tried to put to rest. Things I just absolutely abhor to remember, and boom there it is. All of the sudden. No warning. The memory of a skinny black kid named Anthony, and the geeky PE teacher Coach Evans all up in my memory's grille.

When I was in high school I didn't necessarily know that I was a nonviolent type. I was too busy just gettin' through my days at Corrigan-Camden High School. I would like to say that I did not protest much, but I was quite a complainer.

This is probably why Coach Evans rolled his eyes at me when I stomped up to him red-faced and ired and demanded that he tell Anthony "to stop throwing the ball at me." There were, in my head, several expletives that accompanied that adamant request, but I did manage to keep those on the inside.

Coach Evans curt reply only fueled my hatred for him. "I will not tell Anthony to quit throwing the ball at you. That is what he is supposed to do. We are playing dodgeball. Now get out there!"

During my brief encounter with the Coach, Anthony was carefully eyeballing me, gently tossing the red dodge ball from right to left, left to right -- smiling. He seemed to know that Coach Evans was going to take his side.

With a huge frown, a heavy stomp and a hefty swing that nearly dislocated my right shoulder, practically in tears at the injustice of it all, I returned to the court. Anthony was gleaming. His pearly whites screaming at me through his smile - "This is what happens to girlies who tattle tell." His teeth were the biggest part of Anthony. I know I outweighed him by thirty pounds, but I couldn't come close to lobbing a dodge ball with the strength and precision that he did.

Whomp! There it was. I didn't know how such a small being could put so much force behind that red foam rubber ball, but damn - he nailed me. I felt the sting of the dodge ball once again. The welt was already forming on my thigh.

The only thing I could do was cast a desperate glance at Coach Evans - who only shrugged and smiled and walk off the court deflated and defeated. My only recourse was spitting out "I hate you!" as I passed Anthony.

It wasn't Anthony that I hated.

It was the game of dodge ball.

Dodge ball that day was just one more reminder of how little control I had over my life. I was forced to participate in this barbaric game where the opponents had the obvious physical advantage, only to be once again humiliated by the sting of an unfair ambush. No matter how hard I tried to throw that ball, I could never inflict the pain onto others that I felt.

I hated dodge ball then, and I hate it today. It is not a game that teaches children any sense of morality or good sportsmanship. It teaches boys to be predators and girls to be victims.

Dodge ball be damned!

It was just about thirteen years ago that I took my only daughter to her first day of kindergarten. I went to work and was a wreck. I was petrified for her. I couldn't protect her from the evil forces of the world. I cried all day long. One of my co-workers, a young man with no children, made a comment about how silly I was being. I told him when he had kids, he would understand.

All went well. She had a blast that first day of kindergarten, and she has been a fan of school since and an excellent student.

Today, I dropped her off for her last day of high school. There was no crying today. My tears had already been shed last night. I hid in my bedroom and wept inconsolably into my husband's chest for what seemed like forever because "things will never be the same." My emotions run the gamut. I am so happy for my daughter who has blossomed into a beautiful, confident, and intelligent young lady. She has well-laid plans to begin college in the fall. Still, I am afraid. My role in her life is drastically altered. I don't know what that means, and I am just as afraid for myself as I am for her.

It was just over six months ago that I married the man who held me in his arms and told me that things will be different, but they the future is very promising. The most profound thing that he did for me was to say that he understood why I was so upset. "There were times when it was just you and Celia against the world." Yep! He said let me know it was ok to feel the overwhelming emotion that I was feeling.

I am still emotional, but I know that today marks the first day of the rest of our lives - mine and Celia's. I know they are going to be full and wonderful lives.

This post was originally aired on Facebook as a note on May 29th 2009. This is life. I was so afraid to let my little girl go. Well here we are almost three years later and we are both doing fine.

Celia is not quite the fan of school that she used to be, but she is doing alright. She is studying to be a counselor and I know she is gonna be great.

The man I mentioned above, still holds me when I cry. He also is the father of my only son, and it is comforting to know that this man will be by my side when my little boy goes to kindergarten and then to college.

This is my life and my beautiful family.