movin' on up

If you've ever been to my old house, the house where the vast majority of my married life took place until now, you know that it consisted of one small kitchen, a bedroom, three bathrooms, a lot of steps, and a room that became living room/office/dining room/den. This room, of course, is where we spent most of our time, on the computer, watching tv, on the phone, reading, knitting, playing with the cats, paying bills, socializing. Essentially each day we would be in that room until bedtime, both of us, trying to go about our daily lives and move about the room without running into our furniture, a cat, or each other. For more than two years, I never had to raise my voice above a mumble to get Joe's attention, never had to tell him what I was up to, never had to go and find him.

I married a workaholic computer geek who spends a huge amount of time in front of his computer. If he's not working (after work) from home, he's playing around with his new online venture (details forthcoming). Before, in the mini-house, this didn't affect me because he was still in the room, watching tv, talking to me, whatever. Now, though, he's ALL THE WAY upstairs in his office, and I have to tell you, I'm getting a little lonely. The other day I got tangled up in an unfortunate laundry incident in the basement of the house, stuck between a laundry basket and the aforementioned gate/moat/armed guard system. Joe was upstairs in the office and I was down there for what felt like hours before he heard me yelling for assistance. To be fair, the cats were on the scene immediately offering assistance, but mostly all I got from them was a tail up the nose and the distinct feeling that they were laughing at me.

Also, we live in a ridiculously nice house in a lovely part of town and today, at dinner, the hand-me-down-down-down dining room set that we have been living with turned in its two-week notice. While dining in our lovely dining room in our lovely house in our lovely part of town, Joe went from upright to on the ground in point two seconds when his chair gave up the ghost and collapsed, for good, into several small pieces. We're like the biggest posers I know, we're like those ornate beautiful wedding cakes with jewels in the icing that, when you cut them open, are just grocery-store variety yellow sheet cake.

Does anyone know where you can buy folding chairs?