Monday, January 26, 2009

Home Sweet Home

I met with a Real Estate agent over the weekend to discuss my options for selling my house. It’s looking glum to sale now, but at least I have some direction on how to achieve the goal of making my house marketable.

Among some of the big things I have to do, replace the carpet, repair the roof, paint the trim, I also have to decorate and make my house look welcoming. I get this. I haven’t done much since my divorce because I have felt I would not be here long. Everything is temporary when given enough time, right? Perhaps I’m a little jaded as this has been my life. I don’t say this in a woe is me kind of way, just a realistic point of view based on my experiences. Decorating for a temporary circumstance leaves much else to be desired.

This is not my rant.

I’m somewhat excited to decorate now. Now that I have resigned to the fact that I will be here for another year or so I want to embrace this opportunity to make my house a home. The thing that bothers me is the statement I heard over and over from the agent. “Make it look neutral.” She was not implying that the color or style be neutral. No. She was telling me that I need decorate in a way such that it appears my house portrays a lifestyle that is so not of my own.

I need to paint a picture of a happy family living in this cozy house. That the young roommate I have living in the basement is an older son going to college. Take down those Audrey Hepburn pictures that adorn the walls and the beads and yarn that occupy my room because what husband would agree to a love nest master bedroom full of Audrey and crafty shit?

I’m not upset with my agent for making these suggestions. She knows what sells. She is a very good agent. I’m a bit pissed off that I have to portray this other lifestyle because my current lifestyle is not sufficient enough to sale my fucking house? I’m a single female with a successful career and a lot of funky ass style. I’m divorced and have the freedom to WTF I want. So, now to sell my house I need to pretend to be married and decorate the way I feel a man would see fit.

Ah hem, I don’t think so. This is MY home biatch.

Friday, January 2, 2009

The Arrival

I never thought I would ride up on the back of a bike into Sturgis with other fellow “bikers”. I know I was a passenger, but what do you have to do to be considered a true biker? Do you own a Harley? Do you wear leather and do rags all the time? Do you always go to biker bars?

I tried to pass it off, like this was my way of life. I’m relaxed and confident on the back of a bike and I look damn sexy, yes sir, you may feast your eyes and enjoy. I think my eyes, wide with curiosity and fascination probably gave me away. I am not a professional biker passenger person. This was a whole new experience for me.

We rode in through Black Hills Forest. The scenery was just breath taking. This is terrible, but I didn’t always wear my helmet while in Sturgis. Most of the time we were going pretty slow and I know, I know this is not an excuse, but I just wanted to feel the wind in my hair, the sun warm the back of my neck and to just, breath.

Once we got into the town of Sturgis there were Bikers as far as the eye can see. Harley Bikers, Corporate Bikers, Biker passengers taking pictures and even reading books. How can you read a book with all this going on around you? How cool would it be to have a bike of my own and to ride off in pointy high heeled shoes like her? Look at that guy with all his animal skins and bones embellishing him and his bike! Whoa, lots and lots of boobies. And you can read a book? Crazy!

We finally made it through the mob of bikers and made it to grandma’s house. She is not my grandma, she is our friends grandma, but that is what we called her while we where there. Both her and her husband were so generous to open their home to us knowing we were going to be getting trashed and possibly naked, after all, it is Sturgis. They were use to this however, up until recently they had rented their backyard out to anyone who wanted to set up camp. I also think grandpa enjoyed the company and the life we brought to their home. I wondered if he reminisced about his younger days while he sat their, quiet in his chair just taking it all in.

It felt good to take a quick shower and wash away all the dust and exhaust. I applied my makeup, fluffed my hair and anticipated what the night would bring, here in Sturgis.

Lots and lots of Bikes:


Mount Rushmore...


Town of Sturgis...


That is a Cubs shirt, in case no one noticed.

To be continued….