Moving on up

Even though the challenges of my daily life pale in comparison to what Lulu is potentially facing, I am nonetheless going to share my recent adventures with you. Just on accounta you need to know what's going on.

I have finally moved into my house! I spent the first two months here in temporary living quarters so that I could have a clean place to live (and work) while my house was undergoing various renovation projects like sanding and refinishing the floors, ripping apart bathrooms, rewiring, plumbing, painting and that sort of thing.

These things always take twice as long as you expect, so of course it's not all done yet. Poor George and I decided that "we" would do the painting ourselves to save money. Big mistake. Not only does "we" mean "CP" since George doesn't live here yet; this house is over 1600 square feet with 9 separate rooms/hallways to deal with, all with wood trim and moulding. Not a mansion by any means, but that's a LOT of painting, especially for a mildly retarded and uncoordinated Punchman.

So the long and short of it is, I'm not done. Most of the house is covered in contractor paper and currently only two rooms are completely move-in ready. I don't even have a bathroom yet because the one I intend to use is filthy and needs to be painted. (I hope to have most of that done today.)

Yet, I decided I didn't really need to pay a third month's rent on the temporary apartment, so I decided to move in "sometime" this weekend. I was stressing about it because it was a smallish job, and really the only thing I could absolutely not do myself was carry a sofa down a flight of steps.

So I didn't want to pay a load of money to "movers" for a job like this, but I did need to find someone to help me at least. (Which is difficult when you're in a new city and the only people you know well enough to ask are physically unable to accomplish such tasks.)

Craigslist to the rescue! Craigslist is the greatest thing ever. I clicked into the "labor and services" section and immediately found a "college kid with a pickup" who was available to help people move stuff.

I really wanted to move in Sunday (today) so that I could have the bathroom ready first - but when I called this kid, he #1 only wanted 40 bucks, and #2 was only available that day (Friday). So I jumped on it, although to set the record straight early on, I gave the kid $100. I couldn't take advantage of his naivete.

As an aside on the money issue, one guy I had talked to was going to make me do half the work and still charge me $250. Ha.

So....it was the fastest packing job I've ever done in my life. I had everything boxed up or otherwise ready to move in 90 minutes. That has to be some kind of world record for moving.

Within the space of three hours from my phone call to the college kid with the pickup, all my stuff was moved into the house.

It was so awesome to wake up the first morning in my very own house. Let's just pray the economy doesn't completely collapse and force me to lose it as is happening to so many Americans. Luckily, PG and I have saved up enough of a reserve for our protection in the event of such a calamity, but I'm still nervous.

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This is my second morning in the house. It's still a wreck and I have no idea where anything is, and don't really have anyplace to put most of it since most of the house is still unusable.

But I decided to make my own coffee this morning rather than go up the street to Starbucks. Here is my time-line on that project:

1. Locate coffee, mug, spoon, sugar, filters, saucepan for boiling water, and my smart little one-cup coffee dripper thing: 45 minutes

2. Clean stovetop after becoming aware that it was crusted over with soot from when the wood floors were sanded: 20 minutes

3. Adjust shelving in refrigerator so that water dispenser could stand upright properly (you don't drink unfiltered tap water here, it's disgusting): 10 minutes

4. Boil water and make coffee: 5 minutes

Total time spent: 80 minutes, or about 3 times as long as it would have taken to go up to Starbucks. But at least I'll be ready for tomorrow morning.

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I just got done enjoying my coffee with knaackebrod and creamed fish eggs with dill that you squeeze out of a toothpaste tube. (Yes, I went to Ikea last night.) And one month from tomorrow, my cats will be here with me.

Yay.

A few random thoughts late on a Friday night

This is not our house, but it may as well be.

I really need to check in with my Beloved and Gentle Readers more often. Every now and again I go back and read some old post of mine and then I see the comments which are usually funnier than the post. I laugh and laugh, and then think "why don't we do this any more?" Then I down half a bottle of vodka and call it a night.


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I hate what Proposition 8 has done to my personality. It has made the world black and white for me. Everyone is either with me or against me. Every person I see on the street, I think "I wonder how he voted on Prop 8?" Sometimes I automatically assume someone voted "Yes on 8" based on their haircut, and then I spend ten minutes feeling violent hatred toward them. This can't be healthy.


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My life is really, really dull right now. I work during the day (pretty much a 9-5 schedule unless I have to drive to Orange County in which case I get home later) and then spend between two and four hours in the evening making repairs to our new house. Being Mr. Fix-It and Mr. Painter and Mr. "Open-the-fucking-painted-shut-windows" is REALLY BORING, especially when I'm doing it all alone. At least if Poor George were here it might be more bearable. But right now I'm cursing the fact that we bought a fixer-upper. I am ready to be done with all of it and enjoy the fruits of my labor. Ha, that'll be the day.


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The people we bought the house from should be lined up and shot for their criminal sense of style and color. Every room was painted in some barf tone, and there are all these "adorable" little accents like light switch covers with flowers all over them. Giving this house a makeover will be one of the nicest things I've ever done for humanity. No one should ever have had to look at this shit.


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It's kind of rude of me to complain about my house with the terrible state of the economy, with people losing their houses left and right. But I never claimed to be a nice guy.


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Good night.

Prop 8 Protest - San Diego - November 15, 2008

I'm standing near the front of the line holding a big white sign that you probably can't read. It says "GET YOUR CHURCH OUT OF MY MARRIAGE."

Saturday was a day of national protest against the passage of Proposition 8 in California. The bastards that organize the passing of these propositions are sure getting their come-uppance after doing this to California. Everyone understands that's how life is in Alabama, but when they start fucking with California (or New York) it's time for the masses to get pissed. And they are pissed.

Interestingly, San Diego had the largest turnout of any city in the country. I will take credit for this as I've been spouting venom to anyone who will sympathize for weeks now. I'm new to the city so I don't have a lot of friends yet, and now people think I'm a raving lunatic and will probably try to avoid me. I guess that's ok, because they're right.

But let's keep up the fight for equal rights.


CP

Waaaah!!! Why won't you let me talk????

This is a Prop H8 supporter crying.

Also, remember to protest Prop H8 this Saturday!!!

Right-wing groups and their supporters love to shriek that members of progressive movements are always interfering with their "right to free speech."

Not only are the Mormons crying because of the public backlash against them after their multi-million dollar campaign of hatred against the gay community, but now companies and people that are being blacklisted and boycotted due to their publicly documented financial support of Proposition 8 are saying things like "why should I be boycotted for exercising my right to free expression?"

The lawyer in me is always irked by this. Although frankly, it isn't even the lawyer in me that is irked; it's the semi-intelligent being in me that is irked.

Our right to free speech in the U.S. doesn't have anything to do with being civil to each other, folks. It doesn't have anything to do with being nice. The notion of free speech has to do with being able to say what you believe without the GOVERNMENT standing in your way, with occasional exceptions, mostly related to public safety.

So let's get this straight, Mormons and everyone else who doesn't understand this. It's LEGAL for you to say "gays should burn in hell. Or at least they shouldn't get Social Security and health care."

And it's LEGAL for us to reply "any Mormon who supported Prop 8, or anyone else who supported Prop 8, should be boycotted." Not only is it legal, it is fair.

Why is it OK for you to strip me of my civil rights, while it is antithetical to the "democratic process" for me to call for a boycott against you because of your beliefs? (Short answer: the democratic process works both ways, asswipes. If you attack me, you'd better expect to be attacked in return.)

If I read one more statment from the LDS church calling for us to be "civil" to them after this nasty stunt they pulled, I might actually go postal.

Love,

CP

A White Trash Christmas Story

Some of my Gentle Readers have been complaining that CPW has been too serious lately, what with all this political talk. Nothing like stripping people of their civil rights to kill a party- that's what we always said in my house growing up!

So I'm taking a break from pleading for your support to overturn Proposition 8, and will instead relate to you an amusing tale my pal Michael recently shared with me about his father's white trash relatives in Minnesota.

One Christmas, one of Michael's uncles offered to "host" the extended family for a party on Christmas Eve day. When the day arrived, people were told to convene at the local bowling alley instead of at the uncle's house.

When Michael and his parents and siblings arrived at the bowling alley they discovered a group of their white trash relatives mingling in the bar area; the uncle hadn't even reserved private lanes for them to bowl in. It was basically like any other Friday night in Cow-Shit Minnesota.

After Michael had resigned to relax and enjoy himself, one of his cousins came up to him and said "Hey Michael, someone's choking your brother over there."

Michael turned around and saw a large plaid-shirted lumberjack attempting to squeeze the very life out of his small-framed brother. By the time he went over to intervene, several other men had already tackled the lumberjack, setting the blue-faced brother free to retch and try to catch his breath.

Michael asked him what happened.

"Well, he was being really obnoxious trying to talk to Darla, and it seemed like she wanted him to leave her alone. So I went over and stood between them."

Apparently the lumberjack said "my, you're fragile little man" and proceeded to choke him.

Yeah, that's Christmas with the trashy relatives. Good times.

NATIONWIDE Proposition 8 protests - Saturday November 15

Gentle Readers,

Thank you SO MUCH to all of you who commented, donated and took other action to protest the abomination that occurred in California on election day.

Here is the latest on what we can do: there is a NATIONWIDE protest scheduled THIS SATURDAY, November 15 in many cities across the US. The protests are supposed to occur in front of city hall of whatever city you are in.

They will take place all at the same time (10:30 am Pacific, 11:30 Mountain, 12:30 Central, and 1:30 Eastern.)

Check this site to see where to go in your city.

Please keep this fight alive for all of us.

Love,

CP

A few things we can do now

Hi all,

I have the greatest Gentle Readers of any blogger. You all have said "what can I do?"

I have been wrestling with this question, since there has been some debate in the "No on 8" community as to the best course of action. E.g. some are saying "lay off the attack on the Mormons."

While I agree it would be unwise to kill, maim or torture any Mormons physically, that does not mean we have to be quiet about what they and their Evangelical brethren have done to us.

Many are calling for a re-evaluation of their tax-exempt status. They may have the right to their political opinion, but we as taxpayers most certainly do not have to subsidize their illegal campaign of hatred.

Since they have so many bazillions of dollars, we should make them pay their fair share of taxes. Wouldn't that be a nice boost to the economy, and so badly needed at this time?

To see what to do, please visit this post at Katie Schwartz's blog to sign the petition (and a few other helpful items.) It is also possible to donate to the "No on 8" campaign through the link on her site as well.

Love and freedom to marry to you all, Gentle Readers.

CP

Post Prop 8

This is me on election night. I stood with my sign outside the voting site until the bitter end.

Sorry for my absence, Gentle Readers, but I've been a little preoccupied since the Mormons convinced 52% of California voters to put discrimination right into our state constitution this week by approving Proposition 8.

It is the first time a constitution was changed to take rights away from people who already had them. Isn't that charming?

Californians are offended that such a strong out of state push caused this. And if there is any silver lining in this at all, it's that everyone else now hates Mormons almost as much as I do.

People are pissed. I mean, really pissed. We marched 10,000 people strong through the streets of San Diego today - I don't have any pictures, but they are all over the news.

We are not going to stand for this, Gentle Readers. You have my solemn vow that from here on in I will do whatever is necessary to protect MY marriage to Poor George. I hope you are with me.

More coming.

CP

It's official: Mormons are Spawn of Satan

I want everyone to watch the video below. (Thanks to Skyler's Dad for sending me the proper embedding code!)

Not surpisingly, the Mormons are upset by this ad. I can't understand why; the effect of what they do has the exact same outcome. They just like to pretend they are so nice, that they don't hate gay people and that when they spew bile and hatred against us they are "just expressing their opinion" whereas we....

Well, I guess since we aren't full citizens, we don't have the right to our opinion. So I guess their anger is justified.

Enjoy the ad. I did.

CP

The Mama Gin Files: Queen of the Wicked

Whatever else you may say about Poor George, he's certainly good for a chuckle now and again. I'm not sure how publicly I have announced this yet, but Poor George and I are FINALLY rid of the daily hassles that are Mama Gin- I because I have moved to San Diego, and Poor George because he shipped her off to live with her Number One Son, Stanley, in San Francisco.

Mama Gin is getting along famously in SF as per the photograph below - a photograph that reminds me of one of PG's great moments in domestic comedy.

One day I came home from work to find George in a state of particularly high agitation. I asked him what was wrong. His reply:

"What's wrong? What do you mean 'what's wrong?'" he said, pointing to Mama Gin who was as usual hovering outside, trying to peer in our window. "How am I supposed to feel with Miss Elphaba spying on me all day?"

The characterization was so dead on that I probably howled for thirty minutes.

For those of you who are not fans of "Wicked," Elphaba is the main character who later became known as the Wicked Witch of the West in the Oz books.