girl at large

Retail Slave

The store expansion and renovation is complete--visually and physically anyway, I still have loads of things to do like tagging, inventory, training, and oh you know, answering stupid questions. Our expansion involved the creation of entirely new floor--the basement was excavated (digging 5 feet down), a wall blown out and a stair case put in. It's the new lower, or "Studio" level, 6,000 square feet of furnshings. Woo-hoo! But customers sometimes don't get it... "What's downstairs?" The first time I heard this, I was confused and replied "What do you mean?" Imagine quizzical expression. The customer was serious, --"Oh, more furniture". Duh. What else would be downstairs in a furniture store? I dismissed it as one dim wit. But I was wrong---this question keeps coming. And I don't know how to reply. Isn't it obvious? Wouldn't you just KNOW that an expanded showroom floor would, you know, feature more merchandise? Wouldn't a bigger grocery store just have MORE groceries? Apparently not. Apparently, it is a great mystery, this new 'downstairs'. The question is getting so boring, I'm experimenting with new answers.. "Our exciting new Dungeon Level features chains, whips and a large selection of vinyl apparel." "Downstairs you'll find Portland's finest ass-waxing salon." "Come on down, there are pin ball machines!"

It's so suburban.

I rarely have Saturdays off, but I've had a string of them now. Not my favorite day to have off, as the rest of universe does too and the mob at the grocery store is frightening. Tuesday afternoons are so pleasant for running errands; parking is plentiful and helpful clerks abundant. But I'm making the best of it today by completing projects around the house. So far, I have hung fuschias, used a cable tie to fix the flushing-thingy of the toilet, replaced the cracked toilet seat, washed the toss pillow covers, the mattress pad and the shower curtain, mounted wall shelves, and now I'm off to get a pipe cutter. Just think if you were here Kristin--you could be organizing my closets. Woo-hoo!

Unnatural

I left work at 2:30 yesterday, having arrived at 7:30 to meet the tile-layers, the demolition crew, the painters and the electricians. It was my day off. Our store is under major construction--more than doubling our size by adding 6k sq. ft in a newly excavated lower level over the past three months, and now doing a 'small remodel' on the main level, which started in earnest (and excrutiating noise) this week. This is one of the reasons I have not blogged much lately, nor done much of anything much lately. So, anyway, I was leaving work in my little car. Sunroof open, side windows open--it was sunny and clear and warm and the spring air was sweet--gorgeous. I was free to be outdoors, take the dog for a walk, wake up the hibernating balcony with some cleaning and new plants...I stopped into the garden shop on the way home. I went in with sunglasses on, and hopes of an afternoon spent potting in the sparkling light. Potting of course, is the placement of purchased full-size potted plants directly into more decorative and attractive pots, I don't really get my hands dirty--don't worry. I was inside for five minutes. Five minutes. I stepped back outside, plant in hand, to purple skies, a chill wind, and sheets of gray rain. I could have been told I'd accidentally opened the door to another universe and I would have believed it more. It rained the rest of the day.

Never Leave A Soup Bowl Unattended

Clinkety..clink, clink...silence.....clinkety clink. I stop typing in the den. The noise stops. I start writing again, there it is again! Clink, scrape, clink... What is that sound coming from the living room?!? Tin-ier than the ping of the electric heater (yes, I still have the heat on), clearer than the muffled neighbors.... It's Ruby, standing on top of the end table, licking the last drops of Southwest Corn Chowder at the bottom of my bowl and moving the pesky spoon out of the way. Or more accurately, it WAS Ruby, because now my dinner is gone and she's standing very still on top of my furniture, in the firm belief that if she doesn't move, I can't see her.

Home Improvements

I took on another home improvement project this past weekend---painting the bedroom. It's Devine Paints Storm, a deep charcoaly-turquoisey-blue. In some light it's almost navy, othertimes deep green, in morning light it's turquoise. The color; exactly the same shade the mountains in the distance appear at dusk from the living room window, also compliments the rosewood and teak beautifully, and it feels rich and soothing. It's a good thing the bedroom has a relaxing atmosphere now, because painting it has made my bersitus throb. My landlord said it was ok to paint, under two conditions--A) that I don't paint the ceiling (I didn't) and B) that I don't use a very dark color (I did). I bought a gallon cream colored paint to cover it all up when/if I move, to put his mind at ease should he see the color and freak out. The new curtains go up as soon as I can find an inside-mount pole 10' long. The list of other to-do's in this room include: -ordering a bed (how can someone in the business NOT find a bed she likes???!? What's taken me so long?) -getting a rug -mounting the curtain rod and curtains -finding the right vintage mirror for above the dresser -keeping the closet organized and not succumbing to my usual 'ball them up on the floor' method of clothes storage