DAMMIT people…for the love of whomever, stop painting perfectly good antique furniture!
I just saw someone post a beautiful vanity, you know one of the cool ones with drawers and a mirror. The wood is in FINE shape. Super shape, considering that it’s probably 100 years old.
The caption says “I planned on painting it pink, but I haven’t had time. $150.”
Thank god somebody will save it.
I screamed when I saw a couple of guys on TV on one of those flip this house shows back about 6 or 7 years ago take a freaking chainsaw to the perfect condition fitted wooden wall of a 1910ish perfect Pasadena Craftsman just to install one of those huge tube TV entertainment centers. <cries> What fucking assholes.
When I was growing up my mom was an antiques dealer. I cringe whenever I see what people are doing to stuff. I can’t even go on Craftgawker any more … and forget watching any of those TV shows on abusing antiques to get trendy shit. Most stuff needs is a quick removal of the encrusted dirt in general - not stripping, sandblasting and chopping up. 
There’s one lady I see post now and then. All she does is buy up these vanities and bureaus and paints them silver or pastel laquer. She’s really proud of them, as her husband used to be a professional painter.
Sickening.
Fuck insurance companies. Just fuck them.
Tony was supposed to have had yet another shoulder surgery today. It was called off late yesterday afternoon, because of a delay with insurance approval. Turns out that the delay is due to a case review - some motherfucker of an “independent” doctor/ax man is supposed to be reviewing treatment to date to make sure that it’s been correct and within the parameters of accepted medical practice. Dr. Independent apparently managed to graduate medical school without learning to read, because he’s now claiming that Tony is being treated for injuries that happened after the wreck, and that the county’s insurance isn’t responsible for a couple of surgeries.
Thank Og that the primary orthopaedic surgeon on Tony’s case is a thoroughly decent human being, in addition to being a good doctor. Dr. N is pissed. He personally spent his lunch break calling Dr. Independent to refer him to page numbers, dates, and his own notes to prove that Tony’s injuries are well-documented from before his release from the trauma center. And we’re lucky again, in that the case coordinator from the insurance company has become a family friend in the two years she’s been managing this case - she told us, off the record, what is going on.
It’s time to call a lawyer. This is likely the first shot across the bow, and the insurer and the county are probably going to make things really tough now. If we have to sue the county and the insurance company to get proper medical treatment for Tony, he will never work as a police officer in Georgia again. But his current medical condition makes it unlikely that he will ever return to work - even with proper treatment, but definitely not without it.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Also, fuck people who fuck up perfectly nice furniture with paint, and perfectly nice homes by destroying historic architecture and details.
And fuck mall kiosk salespeople who think that physically accosting people who are minding their own business and not taking “no” for an answer is an acceptable sales method.
Just fuck everybody today.
THIS. A cousin of mine discovered chalk paint this year; she spent this past summer and fall coating nearly every stick of furniture she could get her hands on. >.<
Wooooooooooooowwwwww. WOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWW. What the fuck is that even supposed to mean? Our neighbor’s grown daughter was visiting. We spent an evening listening to her make this noise that sounded like a caterwauling cat every time somebody said something the tiniest bit interesting. Think “wow”, intoned nasally over about five seconds. Three hours of this. We have a friend who does something similar, only it’s “Ya-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a”, as in the German “ja”, whenever she’s agreeing with you. Fucking stupid affectations.
Tonight we get off the bus, drive to the exit of the parking ramp and…sit. After about a minute, the lead vehicle, stopped at the sign, throws on it’s flashers. The guy gets out and talks to the people behind him. I’m 4 cars back. Now, this just IS. It isn’t his fault, it isn’t anyone’s fault, but the only option we have is to back up far enough and go to another exit.
The cars in front of me try to start backing up. I try too, but the woman behind me refuses to budge. The woman in the car in front of me steps out of her car, brushing hand gesture, yells “BACK UP!”. The car two cars behind me backs up, not that shit stain parked behind me. :smack:
I get out of my car and yell “BACK UP” with the brushing hand gesture. She still doesn’t move. I manage to squeeze out without hitting her, along with the car in front of me, then everyone ahead of us is free, and the cars behind shit stain turn and head for the other exit. Shit stain still didn’t move. I’m going to assume she did so after everyone else drove off.
The last time I encounter that particular behavior there were federally regulated herbs involved.
Just saying
I have the same reaction when I see someone cutting up a perfectly restorable antique car to make a rat rod out of it.
Always makes me want to use power tools for unrecommended purposes.
a friend gave me a “spinning stool” she says is an antiques her mother hand carried from Europe many years ago. it is not in good shape, scratched and worn wood, one leg not attached. I don’t know how to find out if it is an antique that should be kept as is or if it is something I can refinish and pretty up. Any suggestions?
Wow, Lacunae Matata, it seems to me that you and Tony have had about enough of this b.s. I am glad you have some doctors on your side but OG! I’m so sorry you have to go through this on top of everything else.
I really wanted to write in one of my blogs today, but today, of all days, the site is down. It’s been down for most of the day, and was up for one brief, shining moment, giving me many false hopes - and was promptly down again. Fuckity fuck. Not only can I not write a blog entry today, but I’m also very afraid of losing all my previous blog entries. I really valued those. Fuck it.
Initials PB by any chance EmilyG?
Yep. PB.
Also, I plan to go out tonight, and it looks like it’ll be cold. Hope I won’t freeze my ass off. Gotta love Canadian winters. 
Hell, I’m in friggin’ *Texas *and it’s supposed to be quite cold tonight. Can’t even imagine Canadian weather right now.
Write your blog entry in Word and save it for yourself. Bonus: you can edit and re-write before posting it.
Yeah, I’ll probably do that. What I’m most worried about is my previous entries disappearing. I don’t have those saved anywhere other than on the site.
Hm, short of lugging it to an appraiser and paying a fee, you might hit up google using country of origin and “antique spinning stool” and a rough guess as to age, and trying to match it to pictures and seeing if there are any appraisals online, can’t think of anything.
Unless it is seriously ancient, as in pre 1600s, it is [and I say this very tentatively] probably not worth restoring unless it has serious historic significance [Mrs O’Leary’s milking stool quality] unless you hit someone who absolutely needs a Serbian milking stool from 1850 to complete their Stools of the Balkans collection.
I’m really pitting myself here.
Originally, the plan for tonight was that my boyfriend’s friends from out of state were going to visit and they were going to go to some really trashy bars (w/ “dancers”) and I was going to do my own thing until we ended up meeting up later at my apartment. I don’t like bars on holidays, because they are always so packed, and I especially don’t like this particular bar. I’d debated going over to a friend’s party, but since it is no-refusal tonight, in terms of DUIs, I didn’t know if I’d want to risk it.
Well, due to possible bad weather tonight and tomorrow, the friends aren’t coming down, because they don’t want to be stranded here. His Plan B is to go to his co-worker / friend’s house and celebrate there, and he wants me to go.
I like her, I like the atmosphere, he said he’d drive and I know I’ll have a good time when I get there. But, for some reason, I just really don’t want to go. I don’t want to tell him, because he’s usually adverse to parties and groups, so I don’t want to discourage his behavior. If I told him that he should go and come over when he’s done, he’ll read a lot more into it than just me not wanting to go.
I’m sure I’ll suck it up and attend and it will be fine, but in the interim, I’m just apathetic.
Well, Calatin, I hope that whatever you end up doing, you’ll have a good time anyway.
Were you on OD before that? Small world 
Awww, thanks! You too!
He just emailed me to say that coworker and he can’t wait to see me. He really is a sweet guy. I just hate going out on “event days” like St. Patrick’s , New Year’s Eve, etc. It’s always such a zoo.