I'm no Robin Hood, but...

Sorry for this being so short, but (a.) I need my sleep; and (b.) I didn't want to go two weeks without posting!



Let this photo be a warning to anyone coming to my place - and going into the basement - from now on. I have put up my old dartboard... right next to the bottom of the stairs. While my aim isn't that bad, I can't promise the same accuracy from any of friends. So, if you're coming downstairs, it might be wise to announce your entry just in case.

What's so special about this? Well, not only does it continue a long tradition of me having a dartboard up for both practice and sport, but also tension release, it perhaps more importantly marks the first time that I've drilled holes in my house! Some may remember that I've run cat-5 cable upstairs (an xBox without xLive is just a... well, it's just not as cool), but my dad did all of the drilling and such. Okay, I guess I nailed in the wire guides to hold the cable up, but...

So, yeah. This is my first major project involving the use of my drill and wood and screws and such. For me, very cool. Also, a big step. Just like anything else in the house, it still has that “new” feeling to it. The one that you want to keep and preserve for as long as possible. If that means not drilling holes into walls, then that's what I'll do. In this case however, I wanted to “break the ice” and start working on the place.

Beyond just getting the 'board up - and I'm proud to say that I managed to hang the board within a .25" of regulation height - I also managed to dampen the sound of a well placed dart: the white backing you see in the photo is a piece of styrofoam from when I unpacked my bedroom furniture, and I've also placed a few pieces of thin wood in the space behind the board to break-up the sound. Compared to the original <thud> that each dart met the board with, these changes have been very effective.

And that's about it for this week. I'd write more, but my eyes are half-closed as it is. If you're ever over for a visit, and you think you have what it takes, I'm always up for a game of 301... maybe I'll go easy on you in our first game.

My first carpet stain

Why must I love mustard and why must smoked meat go so well with it? Why, out of everything I was carrying, must it have been the “doggy bag” from dinner that crashed to the floor. And opened. And spilled out. Onto the ground. And why did that one piece of mustard covered smoked meat find its way to the carpet and not stay on the tile like all its friends?



<sigh>

It had to happen eventually, In fact, I guess it already has. But somehow this one is different. Not just because it's right in the front hallway for everyone to see, but because I was responsible this time. I think that's what really makes it different.

As you can see, I broke out the troops: industrial-strength carpet spot remover, club soda, and plain ol' water. For the record, nothing seemed to work 100%... as every guest from now until eternity will realize. Now, I don't hold it against the spot remover or the club soda; both are proven cleaners. I think that it was my attack that was wrong. You see, the instructions on the spot remover say, “Blot, from outer edge toward center [of stain]”. I may have misinterpreted “blot” as “push, jab, smash, stab, pressure, lean, poke, mash”. For future reference: I believe that the correct method involves only a moderate amount of pressure, wherein you hope that the stain will voluntarily leap from the carpet to your waiting damp cloth or paper towel.

In other words: Don't panic.

Why all the fuss over a small stain? Well, it's like this: with anything new, that first dent in the door, or scratch on the surface is tragic. Hell, you might as well just throw out this tarnished <insert item here> (e.g., new car, new guitar, new house, etc.). Once you've emotionally recovered from this however, anything else is pretty much a non-event. (Note: this does not mean that I won't care if a visitor spills grape juice in the middle of my family room carpet... you will be punished. Somehow.)

What should I do now? The stain is still down there, taunting me as I type this. While I did take the “dying patient” approach for the first thirty minutes (you know, don't stop trying for fear that you'll lose the war), I finally managed to pull myself up off the floor and... well, I got my camera - I saw this as a great blog topic for tonight (silver lining?). That, and the fumes from the cleaner were starting to get to me.

But the spot itself... I'm not done with it yet. In fact, maybe it's time for round two. But before I go, I have this piece of advice for anyone who hasn't spilled anything on their new carpet: go buy some spot remover now 'cause it'll happen eventually. Then again, I only picked up my bottle of spot remover a week ago today...

What is the new "black" then?

Below is a photo of my kitchen (long awaited, I know). However, I'm not here tonight to talk about my kitchen. In fact, I'm here to talk about my “great room” (aka: family room)... or more specifically, what is not in my great room. You see, Ikea has failed me.



“What?!”, you exclaim in disbelief.

Yes, it's true. The Swedish grandfather of entry-level and university/dorm furniture everywhere could not save me from my cardboard box tables that currently sit proudly (and very nearly permanently at this point) in my family room. Apparently black isn't a colour this season; black-brown is. But what happens when you put a (very nice) black-brown table beside something black? It looks brown and it doesn't look good in the room.

I must admit that I've never been a big Ikea shopper, but don't think that I anything against it. It has defined that 'urban condo' look for quite some time now (at least for 20- and 30-somethings I think); it's kind of like The Gap for new homeowners. The ads tell you what is cool and then you go buy it. And that is more-or-less what was going on here.

A set of tables is what I need; the one piece (or set of pieces to be more precise) that I would really like to add next. I don't want to spend a mint, but I want something both functional and cool. Ikea. Of course you think Ikea. So I begged, borrowed, or stole a catalogue - if any of my friends are missing one, it wasn't me who took it... really - browsed through it, and then (of course) hit the web to see the dimensions, check availability, find the closest store, and then plan the trip (e.g., decide on what CDs I should take for the ride).

On arrival, I negotiate the complex maze that Ikea appears to be for every shopping novice like me and... I find out that this table doesn't come in black. Doesn't everything come in black?! And at this point I realize that something black-brown, when compared to something black, is just brown. I guess it's some sort of mathematical colour thing (x + black = brown + black... gather like terms... x = brown -- nothing like geeky grade ten math humour, eh?).

I guess what I learned from all this is to always trust the internet. At least with respect to Ikea furniture colour availability. Now, I'm back on the hunt for a new set of cool, yet functional, tables for my great room. Ideas anyone?

(Oh, and I hope you like my kitchen photo. Maybe next time I'll talk about it. Have to wait and see I guess... but hopefully not another two weeks.)