Pablovian Challenges & Cubism Loo

I've lost my closet space, again. When Laura and I first lived together she booted my ass outta the closet before I even knew she lived there. Then bought this house and one of the first things I did is tear apart the closet and go buy all new shelves and poles and even hangars so we could get the most out of the space as you may or may not remember from this here post entitled Furnishing Frenzy. Neither here nor there, it was all for naught, because late last night I got the boot again, to make way for her ever-growing wardrobe. Next Christmas I'm not getting her any clothes at all. Just space bags.

Luckily my parents had a lovely cedar armoire that was no longer in use and a set of drawers that my vagrant clothes could pile up in, so all was good. Yeah, I know I gotta paint that dresser. But I'll be damned if our bedroom is the hardest room to get furniture into. Getting this thing upstairs last night was like squeezing a handful of water. It wasn't even close to going up our bedroom stairs and our other staircase was the exact width of the thinnest measure of it. I had to remove the bathroom doorand once I was inside there the bathroom itself poses it's own little Pablovian challenges. Cubism Loo. That's a good name for a band from the early 90's, maybe from Omaha.

Don't hate on the sunnies.

We decided to reward ourselves with some summer icees and a little American Idol, which was underwhelming to say the least. Come on Boston, where's your spirit? Maybe Atlanta will be better. It's gotta be.