Breaking in is hard to do
So, shennanigans aside, Monday was a success in that I was able to get most of the remaining components for The Place. It's still a work in progress, but I'd thought I'd share for those inquiring minds who'd like to know.
This is more or less how it began. I don't have any pictures of what the place looked like completely empty, as the camera was packed.
Beautiful ain't it. The day my cable was installed. Notice LiveJournal action on the computer.
You say "a damn mess" I say "organized chaos."
The love pad sans love. Or pad, for that matter.
I have a balcony. You can kind of see the pool; I didn't want to step out and take pictures of the families with their four year-olds running around and make it look like I was putting together kiddie porn.
My couch the day it was delivered last week. I really like it. A lot better to sit on than the floor.
Some pictures of the living room from just now. The last box to unpack holds magazines and oversized books, which I have other plans for. I really dig my bookshelves. I'm still waiting on the coffee table I bought to be delivered, I'm trying to find a comfy reddish chair to put in the big empty space against the wall, and I want to put some more artwork up on the wall with the two staircase pictures.
Really. The third shelf on the right is left for bric-a-brac so as to not have to reach around stacks of literature in order to reach the a/c controls. The bottom shelves are reserved for Calvin & Hobbes and graphic novels. I have a lot to collect.
Dining room. The current table is high on my to-get-rid-of list. I like my candle set-up so far though.
Really. Wish the pictures weren't so fuzzy, but, eh. I'm not patient enough to turn off the flash and try to take that picture seventy-eight times and a half.
This thing I really dig. At first I was annoyed that I got silver and not bronze, but it's kind of growing on me. It stands out and is pretty bold that way, and I like it.
One of the much bally-hooed ladder bookshelves. When I get the necessary means, I'm going to try and stack the aforementioned magazines along the bottom shelves of each one. It's kind of laughably ironic that I bought them as space for my bric-a-brac, only to discover that I don't really have a whole lot in the way of bric to brac. But I've got plans for these; I like them too much to tear them down and send them back.
The kitchen is nothing especially spectacular.
The bedroom's gotten a little cleaner.
There's too much blank wall space in here for my taste. I want something ovular over the bed, for one, like a mirror or something, and more hangy things.
Is this really necessary? Probably not.
Hey look, I'm in the closet. ah hahah. hahah. hahahahahahahahAHAH.
Anyway, that's the awkward-tour-of-the-new-place in photo form. There's a loo, but I can't go in there without showing my naughty bits, and I don't like [all of] you that much.
All that aside, it's been fairly smooth running here. The hotel's dead this week and I'm taking it as the opportunity to start putting into place some of the changes I had in mind with training and our audit system. Tomorrow it's meetings with area managers, Friday it's focus meetings with the hotel execs where I get to play the wunderkind and make them wet themselves with my incredible idea-ness.
The fourth came out pretty nicely. I had a barbecue to go to and everything, then some peeps came back here and we watched Dane Cook's Tourgasm episodes while taking shots of Jim Beam and drinking beer. Then I finished putting my shelves together and put my books away. Finally. I was so sick of having them strewn around in boxes on the floor; it just didn't seem right.
Speaking of which, I've finally finished American Vertigo, and after thinking about it, I agree with some of Levy's arguments about Americanisms. More importantly, so to speak, it made me think about this place, and I realized that San Jose is not a city in the true sense of the word. It's a giant suburb; and in this respect as well as others, it's the ultimate expression of confusion at trying to answer the question of what it means to be American.
Enough of that. I didn't sleep much last night and am back at work tomorrow.
This is more or less how it began. I don't have any pictures of what the place looked like completely empty, as the camera was packed.
Beautiful ain't it. The day my cable was installed. Notice LiveJournal action on the computer.
You say "a damn mess" I say "organized chaos."
The love pad sans love. Or pad, for that matter.
I have a balcony. You can kind of see the pool; I didn't want to step out and take pictures of the families with their four year-olds running around and make it look like I was putting together kiddie porn.
My couch the day it was delivered last week. I really like it. A lot better to sit on than the floor.
Some pictures of the living room from just now. The last box to unpack holds magazines and oversized books, which I have other plans for. I really dig my bookshelves. I'm still waiting on the coffee table I bought to be delivered, I'm trying to find a comfy reddish chair to put in the big empty space against the wall, and I want to put some more artwork up on the wall with the two staircase pictures.
Really. The third shelf on the right is left for bric-a-brac so as to not have to reach around stacks of literature in order to reach the a/c controls. The bottom shelves are reserved for Calvin & Hobbes and graphic novels. I have a lot to collect.
Dining room. The current table is high on my to-get-rid-of list. I like my candle set-up so far though.
Really. Wish the pictures weren't so fuzzy, but, eh. I'm not patient enough to turn off the flash and try to take that picture seventy-eight times and a half.
This thing I really dig. At first I was annoyed that I got silver and not bronze, but it's kind of growing on me. It stands out and is pretty bold that way, and I like it.
One of the much bally-hooed ladder bookshelves. When I get the necessary means, I'm going to try and stack the aforementioned magazines along the bottom shelves of each one. It's kind of laughably ironic that I bought them as space for my bric-a-brac, only to discover that I don't really have a whole lot in the way of bric to brac. But I've got plans for these; I like them too much to tear them down and send them back.
The kitchen is nothing especially spectacular.
The bedroom's gotten a little cleaner.
There's too much blank wall space in here for my taste. I want something ovular over the bed, for one, like a mirror or something, and more hangy things.
Is this really necessary? Probably not.
Hey look, I'm in the closet. ah hahah. hahah. hahahahahahahahAHAH.
Anyway, that's the awkward-tour-of-the-new-place in photo form. There's a loo, but I can't go in there without showing my naughty bits, and I don't like [all of] you that much.
All that aside, it's been fairly smooth running here. The hotel's dead this week and I'm taking it as the opportunity to start putting into place some of the changes I had in mind with training and our audit system. Tomorrow it's meetings with area managers, Friday it's focus meetings with the hotel execs where I get to play the wunderkind and make them wet themselves with my incredible idea-ness.
The fourth came out pretty nicely. I had a barbecue to go to and everything, then some peeps came back here and we watched Dane Cook's Tourgasm episodes while taking shots of Jim Beam and drinking beer. Then I finished putting my shelves together and put my books away. Finally. I was so sick of having them strewn around in boxes on the floor; it just didn't seem right.
Speaking of which, I've finally finished American Vertigo, and after thinking about it, I agree with some of Levy's arguments about Americanisms. More importantly, so to speak, it made me think about this place, and I realized that San Jose is not a city in the true sense of the word. It's a giant suburb; and in this respect as well as others, it's the ultimate expression of confusion at trying to answer the question of what it means to be American.
Enough of that. I didn't sleep much last night and am back at work tomorrow.