How Does A J.A.P. Commit Suicide?

She piles all of her clothes on the bed, and jumps off.

That pile is all of the clothing owned by me or the RLA. The random carnage surrounding the pile is everything else that ever lived in our one closet.

I had a shit fit this weekend which nicely coincided with the big Elfa sale at the Container Store, and the results will be posted as soon as tomorrow, if the installation goes as well as I anticipate.

I also got to play with my Dremel this weekend, and I went around the house like a mad woman, cutting the heads off of all the protruding nails in the terrazzo. The former owners of our little Casita des Zapatos put nasty beige carpeting over all of the terrazzo floors. While I was able to rip up the carpets, even before we moved in (first thing I did when I got the keys and the RLA left me alone in the house for a couple of hours), I've never been able to remove the nails without tearing up huge gouts of terrazzo. Since it's hard enough to find someone to polish and seal the stuff, much less someone who can do repairs, I left the nails in (they're only around the edges of the rooms). But yesterday, armed with my Dremel and a stack of extra reinforced cutting disks, I got rid of the nail heads and left smooth little steel dots that are virtually invisible.

I am woman, armed with power tools. Rahr.