Beach houses, the zenith of ignorance, and the utter futility of human existence.
My parents are trying to move.
They would like to go to a beach town, but since they are both (retired) public school teachers, their housing options in a nice seaside area are limited to living in a box behind a gas station, or a tiny old shack from 1860.
Any NORMAL person could get excited over ONE of those options… but it has been revealed to me that I was born to people who do not understand that comfort is secondary to visual appeal and historic detail.
Fools.
Despite my VERY BEST EFFORTS, they are probably going to end up in some visual-atrocity from 1980 and I am embarrassed to publicly associate myself with such aesthetic barbarians.
They keep saying things like: but Victoria! The house you like has no roof! The house you like has no floor! The house you like has no heat!
How can I even be expected to TALK to people like that?
JUST WEAR A LOT OF LAYERS!
Duh, idiots!
Nearly every weekend for an eternity, Paul and I have been driving to different shore towns to tour an endless parade of houses which everyone ELSE is considering, that I am NOT considering… interspersed with houses I have DEMANDED be considered, that NO ONE ACTUALLY CONSIDERS.
I can only imagine this is how Eratosthenes felt whilst trying to convince the Ancient Greeks that the world was not flat.
LISTEN TO ME! Imbeciles!
LOOK AT THAT SINK! The vintage cabinets! WHO DOES NOT SEE THE MAGNIFICENCE OF THIS? Why is my mother resisting the perfection? WHY???????
Incase you have not experienced house shopping with your parents, let me tell you that there is NOTHING like driving slowly up and down streets, trapped in a car with the people who are MOST LIKE YOURSELF and yet UTTERLY INTOLERABLE to make you consider the possibility that maybe it is not too late to put yourself up for adoption.
Every Saturday, I promise myself that I will not regress to irritable teenager who cannot believe the stupidity she is forced to endure… then as soon as we get in the car, I’m like– NOPE! Go right ahead.
Everyone immediately begins being their most perfect irritating selves… no reason to pretend otherwise for even five seconds.
After nine hours of looking at houses in their price range; covering the spectrum from hideous, to grotesque, to AMAZING-PERFECTION-LACKING-ONLY-PLUMBING-AND-ELECTRICITY… I am reliably foaming at the mouth with repressed childhood rage and the wish to inject myself with pure meth.
Last weekend was particularly bad, and Paul could see that I was on the edge of a psychotic break… he said— do you want me to shoot you with the dart gun?
Other than that though, we are all really enjoying ourselves!
My brothers have been missing out on all the car-party festivities, so I give them live-action updates.
I want to be sure that they understand that they are forever indebted to my selflessness in being the ONLY CHILD who cares enough to live nearby.
And also demonstrate to them the specifics of HOW MOM AND DAD ARE DRIVING ME INSANE.
Anyway, my point is that my parents have the WORST priorities of anyone I’ve ever met and it’s not gotten any better with this house-shopping because they keep spouting crazy nonsense about needing a bedroom for all of the children.
Who cares if my brothers have to sleep in the shed when they come to visit?
I mean, how do we even know that they wouldn’t PREFER it!?
LIKE A GUEST HOUSE!
Private!
Special!
Rustic!
Airy!
Now.
A seamless transition to the futility of human existence.
The real problem with whatever house my parents buy, is that it’s where they will spend their last years.
I have been planning to fix this… through advancements in science? Magic? The mental-denial-olympics I have perfected?
Unfortunately, I’m starting to question the efficacy of any of these strategies.
The one person I am MOST TERRIFIED of losing is my mom. (Actually, she is tied with Paul, but that totally invalidates this thesis I am building here, and theoretically you CAN get a new husband, but you cannot get a replacement mom.)
My mother would quite literally move the pyramids, one stone at a time, (all alone, without complaint) if her children needed her to.
That’s not a metaphor. If it needed to happen, she would do it.
I love my father as much as I love my mom. But us kid’s relationship with him is different; he is not the person we depend on.
Example:
1. My father would bail us out of jail, but the disapproving silence on the drive home would be deafening.
2. My mother would help us hide the body, and then she would make us snacks.
OK! NOW THIS POST IS OVER!
I had intended to have some kind of reassuring conclusion… but I am very busy and important and will have to finish tackling the human condition another time.
I have to go put the final touches on my GFP (Giant Fancy Presentation)… the flaming baton twirling is coming along nicely! It’s way easier than it looks! But the high kicks are still giving me some trouble with my impractical choice of footwear.
Can’t wait to meet some of you! BUT DO NOT TRY TO BUY ANYTHING I AM INTERESTED IN.
See you Sunday!
XOXO, VEB
LET ME HELP YOU WASTE MORE TIME!
read my other favorite post: THE KINGDOM MIRROR.
OR
May 31, 2017 @ 6:55 pm
Would disagree with you on one point: believe you me, you cannot replace Paul! He is uniquely special!
May 31, 2017 @ 9:52 pm
Coastal North Carolina would be a good consideration for your parents. Lots of options at relatively affordable prices and great quality of life.
May 31, 2017 @ 11:11 pm
Original molding over heat! Check. OF COURSE! We are down to single layer of clothing now that June is upon us.
Closest sibling to parents! Check. Text play by play to siblings good option to teleport out of teenage self but not 100% solution.
SO jealous my sister is going to be at the fair!!! I’ll be living vicariously while trying to plant things outside our Wisconsin Victorian farmhouse. You inspire us and make us laugh with posts right on the mark! My woodworker husband is glad to know of Paul. He feels not so alone.
June 1, 2017 @ 2:38 pm
LOVE your posts! Will your GFP be video tapped so all your BFF’s down in Florida don’t miss the batons with fire show?
June 1, 2017 @ 5:30 pm
As the mother of a #1 ranked (Nationally) Competitive Baton Twirler, I assure you the fire baton is significantly harder than you think.
June 1, 2017 @ 8:07 pm
Just plant flowers and a garden. Hahahaha, you are TOO FUNNY! Thanks for the giggle.
June 2, 2017 @ 1:18 pm
The orange kitchen is tooooooo much….. but I think I’d be able to do some light killing for that super-washing-bowl 🙂 :):)
Having gone through the same procedure with my parents, we finally were glad to find them a place with medical services close by and all on one floor and really, NO heavy works to be done, because WHO IS GOING TO DO THEM???? Hein….?!
When we moved from Switzerland to France (not for the 1st time in another country), my son as well as every member of the family asked me: So what sort of a ruin are you going to buy THIS time?! Just to say…. Last house buying (the one in F) was a total disaster. It’s the most beautiful house built in 1920 and had EVERY hidden and lied-about fault one could think of. We thought we’d go mad. Don’t do that to your parents – or they will have to help you hide bodies and make sandwiches & cakes.
June 2, 2017 @ 1:22 pm
I want that sink, too.
My 80something mom is ready to give up her 1700 sq ft house for something smaller and stay in the area (Northern California wine country). She’s not ready for assisted living but tired of cooking and home upkeep. My sister lives nearby, I’m 90 minutes away and I suspect we’ll need that dart gun.
June 2, 2017 @ 4:59 pm
Hi all,
If you do have the opportunity to see/hear Victoria at the Country Living Fair, grab that chance. I had the pleasure of seeing her last fall in NH and I can vouch that she is at least twice as funny and witty in person!
June 2, 2017 @ 10:06 pm
Oh have I been there and oh I can so relate.
June 3, 2017 @ 10:25 am
You get 1 jewel in your crown in heaven for every hour in the car with your parents. Two if you don’t need to be on the run from the law after a day of it.
When (if?) this is all over, send that poor realtor a gift certificate to a day spa and a list of local 10 step programs.
June 4, 2017 @ 6:36 am
I don’t seem to be receiving your missives anymore and I am fur klempt/sp?
Verizon has dumped us into AOL and a black hole of non-existence,so glad I kept checking back for new posts. You must be unique in all the World because I have never been more entertained and informed by reading than when I am reading your posts- and at 77 I have done a lot of reading….I now know why my 52 year old son who is living with us temporarily seems on the verge of matricide ,the look in his eyes when I have lost the remote,the car keys,his mail…etc. is downright maniacal.
Just a thought people-you too will be old-old-old-one day and let me tell you just passing a mirror and realizing that reflection is you takes guts and dealing with the smugness of youth in thinking old is a million light years in some dim and distant future when it is running fast and gaining on you- gives we old-uns a secret also smug chuckle. Still..if there were bodies,I’d find the nearest shovel.
June 4, 2017 @ 1:56 pm
apologys for all the space in this comment,( my mouse has gone ka-floodles and runs hither,thither..why? haven’t a clue) also its rather snarky attitude-I am caring for my 80 year old Husband with Alzheimers and I am Tired and cranky,thank goodness for Victorias posts,they cheer me up and put stuff into a better perspective.
June 7, 2017 @ 1:58 pm
I cannot believe the timeliness of this post from you! I am reading this on my first mental break from a week of touring California retirement homes with my New York parents. Highlight reel includes being smacked in the face with parental decline, mortality, and increasing dependence (as my own future as an aging childless woman looms up demonically in the background); integrating their intense, weirdly conjoined 2-person culture into my household (“Honey, should we move this tissue box 2 inches to the left?” ); my father’s dislike, verging on fear, of CATS (he doesn’t even want them on the kitchen table!); and a full-time moonlighting job as geriatric IT support. I’d like to say I was navigating all this with perfect grace and patience since they devoted their LIVES to me, but I reliably regress into a controlling, show-off-y little beyotch several times a day. All to say–I feel you.
June 10, 2017 @ 11:44 am
I love your blog! I just signed this petition and I thought you might be interested.
https://secure.avaaz.org/campaign/en/ringling_bros_tigers_11/?cJCnzgb
June 11, 2017 @ 11:58 pm
I can very much relate to frustration of spending the entire day with both parents in the car and looking for the right house. I was 21, my lazy and totally not considering future, older and a younger sibling (we were all going to live in the house too) first didn’t care about coming along with us but later on they did. Only after our parents and I complained about the tiny and very smelly condos that we saw. Fresh air at home and entire building for that matter was no 1 priority for my mom and me after 4 years of renting, we’re very freaky about getting rid of all traces of unpleasant household smells. Dad is allowed to smoke outside only, not even garage with open door, no matter the temperature. Anyway, my parents told our realtor that they wanted to spend about tree fiddy on condo so she showed them the ones that cost about that.
Then after second and third round of condos and townhouses as well (better ones and not smelly though) they finally realized that they need and want a house. You know with some kids that won’t move out for many more years to come, overwhelming need for vegetable garden and all that, they realized that they might need more than two bedrooms without their own yard. Hello, you have two young women in high school/college who work, study, and have completely opposite standards of tidiness so they always argue about it, as well as a young guy who works and is done with school already. Like where were we supposed to fit? Wtf 2 bedrooms for 5 people with short tempers. Our rental apt had 3 bedrooms. Did my mom really think that my brother is going to move out? I mean she didn’t even want him to yet (favorite child) and it’s not like he wanted to do his laundry, cooking, and everything else himself. Both my siblings still don’t want to do that. I just had to mention it, I’m mean like that.
Me and my sister always shared bedroom until my parents purchased their own house second time. 21 years of dealing with clutter, not putting things away where they’re supposed to belong, dust that should be wiped a month ago but who cares about their share of responsibilities, messiness, sharing space, reading under the covers because I have to finish that book now and it’s late so lights are off, and a lack of privacy arrrghh!!! I beg all the parents: please do not have more kids than bedrooms for them (Can you tell I’m traumatized and crazy yet?).
Disclaimer: my parents were able to afford a house, they still are. It’s just that they lack common sense every now and then;) That’s why I had to do control check on them so they don’t end up buying something they want to sell right away. Even though nobody listens to me because I’m the middle child. There is no logic to it but that’s how it works: I tell my concerns to older and/or younger sibling and hope that they agree so they can share them with our parents who now think that those concerns aren’t only mine therefore they’re valid and important.
I’ll finish my comment soon I promise! I wanted to let you know that I recently discovered your blog and I love reading it. What’s the current status update on the kitchen? Correct me if I’m wrong but I don’t think there was a reveal post. I can’t wait what you’re going to come up with next, piano island is awesome. Also, I have similar taste for old things/houses that can be changed into something else. Of course after I scrub them well/repaint/rebuild/alter even just a little. Must erase someone’s presence from the things so they become mine and mine only. But I also like new things with character. I want all the money sigh… And I need to find a husband like yours so we can both work on something all the time and who still sticks with me despite or because of my crazy ideas and control issues.
June 13, 2017 @ 8:48 am
This is officially my favorite post of all time.
June 14, 2017 @ 3:09 pm
When I read your posts, they are hard to distinguish from my thoughts. Unfortunately, my husband is extremely practical and practices maximum assertiveness.
June 14, 2017 @ 10:18 pm
Ocean City (NJ, the real one, not the fake one down in MD) is the best!
Love the sink, I’d keep it,
July 6, 2017 @ 7:35 pm
You have 83 unread text messages???? How do you sleep at night??