My next stop was CB2, my go-to home decor online shop. To remedy our ragtag lot of mismatched drinking glasses, we ordered 12 22-oz. handblown Ambi glasses. If you’re not in the market for a new set of glasses, the fact that they’re 22 oz. probably doesn’t mean much to you, but I just want to point out that 22 oz. is a lot of liquid. We don’t want to mess around with these silly 14-oz. glasses anymore that can’t even handle a whole bottle of beer.

I also went ahead and ordered that dream cutting board set that I first fell in love with on the MoMA website (but which I found for much cheaper on Amazon). I never thought I’d find cutting boards that I’d want to display, but these fit the bill. I just love it when form and function come together harmoniously and semi-affordably.

I also ordered a brushed nickel “Euro” napkin holder and a “perfect tear” mountable paper towel roll holder. The Euro napkin holder just arrived, and I do have to say that it’s about as European as a napkin holder can get.

Finally, Jason got got me this retro-styled yellow breadbox that I’d been eyeing at Target for a while. So now when we ask each other if something is bigger than a breadbox, we’ll have a pretty good visual.

But now it’s back to the not so fun stuff, like tile. And painting. And waiting another two weeks for countertops and a sink. Which means more plastic cups and paper plates and eating out. I’m craving a good home-cooked meal like I never have before, so if anyone wants to invite me over for dinner, I’ll repay the favor once we have a kitchen again.

Two weeks ago. We’re bright-eyed, ready to go, and naive in thinking we’re going to have a brand new kitchen in two weeks. We rip out the cabinets, revealing a really ugly paint color, a hidden chimney, and some other fun artifacts.

The kitchen crew arrives on a Monday, inspects the cabinets and leave. We wonder if they’re just on a lunch break, but we don’t see them until the next day. The next day, after a real lunch break, the crew begins by removing a portion of the wall separating the kitchen and dining room…

…exposing some really ugly and potentially dangerous cloth-wrapped wiring circa 1934. We pay an extra $1400 to get that rectified after a dispute that left us feeling pretty dismal about contractors.

The other half of the wall comes down. We have a couple more fights with the contractor, which ultimately saves us $900, but which I will inevitably end up handing over to United Healthcare to rectify the ulcer I am surely headed for. The breakfast bar half-wall is almost revealed!

The whole wall is down. The crew takes more than two days to mud the wall and we call the contractor to complain because Roscoe could have mudded the wall in less time, and also because it’s no fun to not have a kitchen for several weeks. A heroic and brave plumber comes out to remove the steam radiator, which is a system that apparently most plumbers want nothing to do with.

Roscoe steals a biscuit to prove our point. He really is very talented.

The world ends in the DC metro area. All kitchen progress comes to a standstill.

At first it’s a great time and it’s really romantic and full of SNOW DAY! and MOVIES! and CUDDLING! and BLANKETS!

But then it starts to feel a little bit like The Shining and we still don’t have a stove or oven or sink. We become creative in the art of entertaining each other.

Kitchen work resumes. We remove the old flooring, Jason and Justin install sheets of Hardibacker in preparation for the tile, and upper cabinets are hung on the window side of the kitchen.

And here is what we have as of yesterday. The ‘fridge is all boxed in, the breakfast bar upper cabinet has been hung and will soon be sporting some fancy glass doors, and we have some lower cabinets (sans doors).

I might make it out of this alive.

If you haven’t been following the drama over the past few years, despite its being the third most requested TV series on DVD, there’s been little more than gossip and rumors surrounding a possible release. And a pitiful attempt to appease fans by releasing the two Daria movies on DVD (Is It Fall Yet? and Is It College Yet?).

The N network showed reruns of the series until 2006, but viewers complained that the shows were often edited for content, rendering them devoid of important plot points and containing more often than not nonsensical attempts at sarcasm. No good.

Then, in the summer of 2009, this surfaced.

(via www.tvshowsondvd.com)

But, not one to be duped by a little Photoshop and a mean streak, I didn’t put much faith into it. UNTIL last month, when MTV officially announced that Daria would, in fact, be coming to DVD in 2010. And they even threw in a teaser.

Another reason I like 2010 already. I can’t wait to enjoy some obscure pop culture references that will surely be lacking all relevancy at this point.

Life = complete.

This is what I see when I look at our kitchen remodel contractor.

Despite the fact that people don’t read anymore, Jobs decided to go and develop a tricked out e-reader for the attention-span-challenged. All maxi pad jokes and product loyalty aside, I think the IPad is relatively useless. Really useless, actually. I know that Apple is all about merging our needs into these grand all-encompassing products, but the problem here is that most people who would actually consider buying this thing probably already have an iPhone or an iPod Touch that does most of the same stuff that iPad does, just on a smaller screen.

Granted, the iPad looks like a lot of fun and I would love a chance to play with one. Jason immediately made the connection to Penny’s digital book in Inspector Gadget, and I have to agree. This is most definitely a cool product, one that would have made all of our eyes pop out of our heads if we had tried to imagine it when we were kids.

But, in the end, the iPad is a toy. It serves absolutely no new or revolutionary function. If I were in the market for an e-reader, I’d consider price, book selection, and e-ink technology–none of which the iPad would have over the Kindle, Sony Reader, or any other of the new gaggle of readers being developed as we speak. If I were in the market for a portable computer I could use in class or coffee shops or friends’ houses, I’d get a MacBook or a netbook, because you know, I’d like to actually use it to type more than a few words at a time, and I don’t want to carry around an extra gadget just to do so. If I were in the market for a really portable (i.e. convenient) computer/media player, I’d get an iPhone.

Another problem Apple is going to face with this product is people like me. I love Apple products and I’m a huge fan of the brand–Jason and I each use our beloved iPhones and our house is like a Mac graveyard with old iPods, an iMac, a G4, a MacBook, and now I exclusively use a MacBook Pro for work. We would be the perfect target audience for the iPad. We have disposable income–to a degree, we’re young, we’re committed to Apple, and we care about technology. BUT WE ALREADY HAVE PRODUCTS THAT DO EVERYTHING THE iPAD DOES. Especially since I finally broke down and bought Kindle and Jason is inheriting my mom’s old Sony Reader.

So who, exactly, is the iPad consumer? Is it a single guy in his 30s with too much money? A college kid? A mom? I have no idea, and I don’t think Apple does either. It’s a strange time and atmosphere to be asking us to buy an expensive toy.

For example, I absolutely love the practicality/design (okay, mostly the design) of these spoon mugs, offered up by CB2 at $3.95 a pop. In fact, I have three of them on the way. Why three? Because we rarely have more than two people visiting at a time and Jason isn’t a “hot beverage” drinker.

I also decided that it’s time for one of those cutting board sets. Again, they’re cute, but they’re also extremely helpful when you’re trying to avoid salmonella or mad cow disease–aren’t we all? I first spotted these in the Modern Museum of Art (MoMA) online store added them to my Amazon universal wish list faster than you can say, “$70 FOR A CUTTING BOARD SET?!”

It was only this morning that I decided to do a quick Amazon search to see if any other retailers were carrying this ABSOLUTE NECESSITY. Turns out someone is. For $53.46. Nice try, MoMA; you almost got me this time.

After running back and forth between this aisle and the kitchen section (to “compare” our picks to our cabinet style), we agreed these Amerock brushed nickel square-ish pulls and matching handles for the drawers.

Our American Woodmark “Annapolis” cabinets arrived in the afternoon yesterday.

When the men were done bringing in all the giant boxes, our kitchen looked like this. And when I say it looked like this, I mean it still looks like this as we speak.

The cats seemed really disappointed that the front door was wide open for at least 10 minutes and none of them were brave enough to attempt darting outside to freedom.

Today, we tackle the giant puzzle that will be our dining room as we try to smoosh all of the cabinets in there so we can move around the kitchen. Then, we spackle and fill in all the little holes in the wall that might as well have tiny WELCOME ALL MICE mats made of cheddar cheese in front of them.

The men were able to resist Etta’s cheeks and they killed it (the kitchen, not Etta). We started with emptying all the cabinets and removing the drawers.

The stove came out first, followed by the oven, and then the sink. After the appliances were out, the counter tops (that we painstakingly tiled two years ago) went. And then the giant saw and crow bar came out to rip out the cabinets, which were custom-built to fit the space about a million years ago.

HeMan-ing the oven…

Where the sink used to be…

Cabinets coming out…

One of our biggest pet peeves about this kitchen was the giant built-in next to the ‘fridge that housed the oven. We did make it cooler a couple of years ago by removing the doors and partitions on the upper cabinets to make way for the microwave and cook books, but this monstrosity took up a huge amount of space in our already tight kitchen. Taking it out was more than satisfying. And hey! There was a radiator under there.

So here is what we are left with now. That hideous green was hiding under the cabinets.

Here are the things we found/discovered during this process.

A chimney for what used to be an apparent wood-burning stove. This was boxed in behind our cabinets.

Layers of retro wallpaper behind the cabinets.

And, best of all, an invitation most likely from the 60s reading:

NEW YEARS EVE DANCE
THURMONT AMERICAN LEGION
MUSIC BY “THE TEMPO’S”
9:30–1:30     $3 PER PERSON

And a children’s card reading, “Mr. Tiger stalks his prey, Snapping branches on his way.”

It’s weird coming downstairs and not seeing a kitchen. I am using a plastic cup and paper plate as I write this, which feels very, very wrong. Being that we live in an old house with limited space, we only have the one small bathroom and it is located upstairs. The kitchen, however, is located downstairs. This presents a problem, as we are lacking a sink on the main floor. So we’re resorting to plastic and paper and trying to ignore our eco-guilt for the next two weeks. Sorry, environment. We set up a makeshift kitchen on the three-season porch. It includes the microwave, toaster oven, lots of plates and cups, and cleaning supplies. This is the beginnings of the faux-kitchen.

The cabinets are being delivered tomorrow, and then they apparently have to sit for a few days to adapt to the temperature and humidity in our house, as we don’t want them expanding or contracting once they’re installed. And we’ll be busy painting and cleaning up our mess while our new cabinets chill.

Imaginary Things – Jan. 6, 2009

I used to have an impressive collection of CDs. They sat stacked in some sort of Ikea device in order by genre, and then by name. My stereo was right next to my CD collection, so that when the mood struck me for something particular I’d just pop the disk in and set it to repeat.

My CD collection is now dispersed throughout the unfinished portion of my basement. Some of the disks are cracked because they’ve been stepped on, or they just didn’t make it through the many moves I’ve had throughout and after college. They form unmistakable triangle-shaped silver daggers and it no longer makes me sad to see them that way.

There are benefits to this. I don’t have to dust my collection anymore. And I don’t have to manually alphabetize them either. All of my CDs now live double lives on the hard drive in my computer and my ubiquitous iPod, which can be found attached to my body with white wires coming out of my ears. Things have changed in the past few years. Few of us have a need for the CD towers and display shelves we bought before the advent of MP3 players.

For Christmas this year, several friends and coworkers either received or bought themselves digital book readers, which are digital devices that you both store and read books on, much like an MP3 player for music. Two or three years ago, when I was just beginning to let go of my attachment to my physical CDs, I would have thought this was going too far.

Those of us that need to read books like a diabetic needs insulin know the feeling of opening up a new book, smelling the inside, feeling the pages crease beneath your fingers. We line up our books on bookshelves, and even though we’ll probably never read them again, they make us happy and comforted, because for two weeks, we lived in the world that book created. And we probably judged that book by its cover when we picked it up in the store.

But this is the way the world is going. We’re not going to need real books anymore. We can still have them, of course. We can still hold on to what books used to be, but it won’t be the same.

And the same goes for movies. My husband and I have discovered the brilliance of Netflix, a company that sends you DVDs that you request online. You keep a list going of movies you want to see, and magically, those same movies show up in your mailbox a couple of days later. When you’re done watching, you put the DVD back in its envelope and it goes off back to where it came from.

Even the idea of Netflix is becoming outdated. Movies will soon all work through programs like On Demand; we’ll just click a button and the movie will start playing. No more trips to Blockbuster, no more DVD libraries in the family room.

I figure it’s silly to resist this change. It’s definitely coming, and it’s coming fast. You could spend a lot of time arguing about the benefits of physical items, or how humans need more time to adapt to such a change. But meanwhile, I’m boxing everything up and moving on—it ultimately means less dusting.

This was a telecommuting day for me, like all other Thursdays and Fridays, which meant that I could sit in this spot on the couch with my laptop and stare desperately out the window all day, awaiting the mystical white postal truck.

The regular mail came and… nothing. And, believe me, I knew my Kindle was on its way. I had only been checking the USPS website all week, desperate for an update. Finally, I heard another truck pull up and I ran out, clutching the tiny and surprisingly light box. I’m a big sucker for cute packaging and I just loved this.

Then, this was the face I made.

And as my first official Kindle book, I’ve decided to go the impatient route and purchase the book I was already reading in hard-copy form–The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao–because I’m enjoying it so much. If anyone wants the hard copy, send me your address! It’s up for grabs, but I’m totally going to quiz you on it.

Etta is the offspring of our BFFs, Kelsey and Justin. We met these crazy kids back in 2008, when we started talking online, then had our first date at Brewer’s Alley downtown. The rest was history. We take turns helping with each other’s home improvement projects (Justin was the brains behind our bathroom remodel and we helped tackle their hardwood floors and bedroom). Kelsey and I drag the men to Asian restaurants and Ikea. And we got to watch Kelsey’s belly grow bigger and bigger last year and met Etta her first day in the world as we know it. Here they are during our trip to Brooklyn.

Etta is one of those kids that really, really makes you want to have a kid. She’s also one of those kids that makes your mom really, really want a grandkid, so you’ve got to be careful when introducing the two. (Found out the hard way).

It’s hard to find a picture of NOT making the wide-eyed I’M-GONNA-STEAL-YOUR-BABY face, so this was the best I’ve been able to do, on the day of her baptism.

Anyway, I plan on posting much more from now on because this is a big year for the Henley Abode. First and foremost, my *ahem* GENEROUS parents gave us a kitchen remodel for Christmas. Like, an entire new kitchen. We are knocking out the wall between the dining room and kitchen to make way for a breakfast bar and glass cabinets, completely replacing all of the cabinets, installing some sexy granite that we possibly picked based solely on its name–Blanc Noir, and getting all new appliances. Did I mention we are making way for a DISH WASHER?! Yeah, we will soon be the proud owners of a MACHINE THAT WASHES YOUR DISHES FOR YOU. Because it’s 2010–the FUTURE! I plan on our relationship improving around 87% based solely on its existence.

On Saturday, we begin the demolition process, along with the help of aforementioned friends. Etta won’t be of much use, but maybe we can get her a tiny sledgehammer and get her into the DIY way of life. Her mom makes her own laundry detergent, after all.

We will be documenting this whole crazy process, so stay tuned.