Inferno

Global religious traditions vary greatly in their depictions of Hell. Depending on who you ask, Hell is; hot, fiery, desolate, cold, painful, nonexistent, temporary, and eternal. If you ask me, it's being stuck in your house all day, cancelling good plans, and still having a screwed up house at the end of it all. Okay, probably a bit dramatic, but it really sucked.
The furnace in my house was icky. It was really old and loud and made the floor shake. We had to get it replaced. Not a big deal, except that I'm me and if there's a complication to be had, I'll find it.

So the furnace guy shows up 4 hours late and tells us it's going to take 8 hours to do the job. Not only does this mean I have to spend a total of 12 hours waiting for this guy, but it means I have to cancel my plans for the night. My plans involved my best friend, an adorable boy, Ira Glass and story-telling. Totally not happy about spending my night on the couch instead!

Regardless, the guy, we'll call him Sneed, takes off into the basement where he begins to disassemble a car with a sledge-hammer. Okay, he was likely taking apart the old furnace, but that's SO not what it sounded like. After about an hour he comes upstairs and we have the following conversation.

Sneed: "Okay."
Carolyn: "Okay?"
Sneed: "You gonna go make it clean now."
Carolyn: ...crickets chirping..."what?"
Sneed: "If you don't clean it, all that stuff is gonna be under the new furnace and you're gonna breathe it."

Resistance is futile...I haul my cookies into the basement and sweep away 60 (cough) years (cough) of basement furnace dirt. (cough)

Bang. Bang. Bang. Hours go by. Trusty Sneed makes his way upstairs to announce he's going to Home Depot.

Carolyn: "Do you know how to get there?"

Sneed: "Yeah, I got GPS."

Carolyn: "Okay. Good luck."

Sneed: "Is it over by Ikea?"

Carolyn: "Sort of."

Sneed: "Oh yeah, do you know any neighbors or something who might help me get that furnace out of the basement?"

Carolyn: (eyebrows aloft, mouth agape)...crickets chirping...

Sarah: "No. We know no one who would do that."

He returns. Hours go by. Bang. Bang. Bang. Hours go by. Bang. Bang. Bang. At this point, I realize that I'm supposed to be doing my hair and putting on pretty make-up to go out and play, but instead I'm getting Sneed another glass of water, waiting for him to finish tearing my basement apart, while simultaneously freezing to death. By now, I've worked myself into a complete tizzy. The next person (ahem...Sneed ) who asks me to sweep something, get something, or volunteer others for something might just get kicked in the teeth. I decide it's probably safest for everyone involved for me to go lay down.

Quietly, I excuse myself to my boudoir to warm up and calm down. I retire to my bed and am peacefully envisioning my favorite lake in the summer, half-way to dreamland, dozing....THUD, cloud of dust, burning, smoke detectors blaring! Bolt upright, eyes like saucers. Run downstairs to find, a smokey haze filling the house. Apparently, when you first turn a furnace on a gigantic storm of dust and smoke come out of all of the vents with great pressure. Hacking choking, we run around and open all the windows and turn on fans. 15 minutes later, Sneed emerges from the basement wearing a mask, "You're gonna want to open a window." Gee thanks, Sneed. You're a real pal.

The evening ended much like it started; with disappointment and annoyance bordering on violence. Sneed informed us that there is no possible way to get the furnace out of the basement without help. I wanted the man out of my house and I couldn't find a gentle way to break it to him that no matter how many people he has to carry the furnace, it won't fit out the door. The door is narrow and the furnace is wide. It was clearly partially assembled in the basement. Reluctantly, I agreed that he could call me later this week to arrange the pick up of the old furnace. I can't wait.

Epilogue: The next morning, I woke to find the house smelled like gas. Apparently, Sneed turned the gas off and didn't relight the pilot lights on the water heater or the stove. And, most notably, I learned that when the cloud of dust and smoke settles, you are left with a thin layer of dust and basement dirt on every surface you own. Joy.

The mall.

There were a lot of people on the Mall today.

Some of them wore silly hats and funny glasses.

We stood up near the Washington Monument,

which means we were really far away from the

Lincoln Memorial where all the action was.

Because we were so far away there was a little delay

between the pictures on the screen and the sound.

This reminded Jen of puppets.

This is what happens to Sarah when she sees Shakira.

Even though it was cold and the timing was off on the sound AND I had to suffer through Beyonce, it was pretty amazing to see him speak.

Brew

Yesterday, I finally made it into the Philadelphia Brewing Comany. Being that they are an open local brewery that offers tours of the facility and a cozy tasting room, this doesn't sound too impressive. However, this is the second time I've been out there and the first time I've made it through the front door. The first time I hauled my cookies out there to buy beer for the Philaversary. The beer buying mission failed because they were at the shore for the week. This time, I almost didn't make it in because I couldn't find the damn door. The whole thing is a bit like visiting the Wonka factory.

The Philadelphia Brewing Compnay is located in the Kensington neighborhood in Northeast Philadelphia. It's a working class neighborhood with lots of grit and a long history of brewing beer. Roughly 50% of PBC's beer sales come from their lightest regular brew aptly named Kenzinger, not subtly paying homage to the neighborhood they call home. The beers are great. Good flavor, style, local ingredients, all handmade with a total staff of 15. They make everything on site. They brew the beer, design the bottles, fill the bottles, make the tap handles, and so on and so forth.

By far, the highlight of my PBC adventure was sampling a brand new brew, released earlier this week. It's called Select Brew #4 - Joe. Joe as in coffee. It's a deliciously divine porter with no icky anything and a yummy almost nutty flavor. Coffee and beer in the same mug. In my mind it's about as close to heavenly nectar as I can imagine.

Lovely Lisa and her Locks of Love

This is my friend Lisa.

Lisa has long hair.

Really long hair.

Today, Lisa let me go with her to the hair salon,

where a lady braided her hair.

Then, the lady cut it all off.

Well, most of it.

Now Lisa's going to send this package to Locks of Love and

a sick kid is going to get a kickass wig.

Lisa's awesome.

That's cold.

One of the biggest benefits of living with a preschool teacher is the toys, obviously. This week the kids are learning about all things arctic. This means that I got to help make snow. No ice. No frosbite. No shit.

It starts out as shiny powder, not unlike salt. Then you add a bunch of water and this happens:

You keep stirring and within a few minutes, you get this:

Repeat the process a few times and you get a bucket of "snow".

Oh yeah, and it's sparkly.

New Year's Eve was fun.

Good food and yummy drinks at Jones.

Then, to see Hairspray with Sarah.

Then, drinks and playing with friends.

Then, fireworks.

More playing.

It was a good night.

Big birthday.

Not tomorrow, but in a few months I am going to be 30. It seems like a really big number. It's not really, but it feels like it. So instead of moping about and pricing out chemical peals, I've decided to celebrate it all year. Ups and downs, good stories, good food, good friends, good things. Some of which I will share in this blog.


2009 has been a great year so far. I look forward to sharing the rest of it. Happy New Year!