Happy April Fool's Day

(Otherwise known as the post wherein I applaud myself for my presumed intellect.)

Among all the other gags online, my last post was my little April Fool's gift to you. There is no TV film crew coming to my townhouse. There is no TV pilot in the works. And, frankly, I'm not suited to TV projects if I have to be in *front* of the camera.

But every hoax needs a kernel of truth. It *is* true I was talking to HGTV representatives during my home search. They were coming to Raleigh to film "House Hunters," but my timing didn't work out for their schedule. That, and my aforementioned lack of front-of-camera skills, probably ended any chance of actually getting on national TV.

My last post did fool some people completely and caused others to further question me. If *you* didn't get hoodwinked, here's what you might have noticed:

• The blog was posted on April 1. I'd almost *never* trust anything published with an April 1 date.
• I wrote the post as an acrostic poem, with the first letter of every sentence spelling out APRIL FOOLS.
• I linked to a Wikipedia article about acrostic poems, my only link in the post.
• The blog post's sole tag was "Holidays."

And some very obtuse references I doubt anyone saw:

• The blog title "A display floor" anagrams to APRIL FOOLS.
• I set the blog to activate the last post at 04:01.
• I explicitly used the words "initials" and "be sharp" in the post.

Thanks, as always, for reading this blog.

My home ... a display floor?

A big cable TV channel wants to film my place after seeing my blog!
Per a legal clause, I can't say *which* channel yet, but a hint: Initials.
Regardless, I'm stoked that they'll come film here for a potential pilot.
I figured this blog would have limited reach, so this is quite a shock.
Largely, I intended this blog to just document my domestic progress.

For now, having a film crew here for days means I have lots to do.
Overnight, I must clean everything -- and hide all of my skeletons.
Old possessions need to go, replaced by the stuff I bought recently.
Looking sloppy isn't going to cut it on national TV -- I must be sharp.
Share in the process with me as this develops, or comment below.
 

Poking holes in my resale value

The title to this post is a little dramatic, yes, but me and the drywall mud will be spending some quality time together when I move out.

For Christmas, I got some nifty acrylic display cases for my Hess Truck collection. (You might remember me mentioning them here and here.)

Well, they're up on the wall now, see? But not without a fight.

Hiding behind the nicely mirrored backing are a bunch of holes with drywall molly* bolts in them. Why? Both display cases were mounted to the wall twice, and it's not even (entirely) my fault.

My father helped me hang the cases, which are more bulky than heavy. Before you think I'm blaming his skills, know that he builds multiple theatrical stage sets a year. He's not unhandy.

Before drilling into my walls, we measured. We did math. We used a level. While mounting the cases, we used the level again. But, somehow, both cases ended up being crooked -- and to add insult, neither case lined up with its mate.

It was so bad we decided to take both cases down and start from scratch ... after we ran to the store, as we had consumed all of the supplied hardware.

The cases still aren't perfectly aligned, but they're MUCH better now. (And for other collectors out there, yes, I still have the boxes.)

* Drywall molly bolts, for folks who want to know, are plastic spreaders that act as anchors, allowing heavy objects to hang from drywall without screwing/bolting directly into a stud. They become permanent fixtures to the wall, unless they are dug out and patched up. 

Surprise! No mishaps.

I promised some grill-related exploits a couple posts ago. Now that the weather's getting nicer and the days are getting longer, I've used my new grill a few times.

I haven't had any mishaps. Not one.

OK, I forgot to close the valve on the propane tank overnight. Once. But that's it, I swear.

In other grill-related news, I decided to pull my grill and patio furniture indoors during the recent tornado watches. It all fits indoors, which is good to know for when I'm ready to stain and seal my deck.

The hard way

A quick note to readers of this blog: Please learn from my mistakes.

When adding this rug and this sofa to a room, it would be wise to place the rug *first,* then bring the sofa into the room. A college-educated adult shouldn't mess this up, but then there's me.

On a related note, make sure the furniture you buy fits into your HOME, not just its intended room. This 9x12' rug and massive sofa had to scale a flight of stairs only 35 inches wide *and* turn a corner.

Before bringing it in, I did measure the sofa -- a sectional -- to make sure it fit. Its smallest dimension is 38 inches, but the overstuffed padding squished down just enough. My movers still were NOT amused.

Make me feel better; share your brief moments of stupidity in the comments section.

Dirty window sills

Raleigh has been given the gift of phenomenal weather this week. To celebrate, I've opened all the windows in my place to air out any winter funk.

The window sills on my west-facing windows are INCREDIBLY dirty. It's not one constant layer of unmolested dirt. It's as if water got in, then evaporated, leaving only grime behind; I think I see water spots in the dirt. This, clearly, will require a good sponge and some continued observation.

In other news, this weather means it might be time for the first cookout of 2010. Stay tuned for grill-related escapades and a general disregard of basic fire safety.

Little sensor, big help

Problem: My TV sits above my fireplace. In addition to the TV, I have four other components to my entertainment system and some assorted speakers. I don't like to see wires, and I'm too cheap to pay an expert to wire the necessary cords through my walls. (I know, I know. ... If only all our problems were this trivial.)

Solution: Stack the components BEHIND the TV.

New problem: The components' remote controls signals aren't powerful enough to go *through* the TV, which means my lazy butt would have to get up and press the buttons on my now-hidden components. (And you thought my previous problem was trivial, huh?)

New solution: I found this transmitter and receiver at Best Buy. Point any and all remote controls at the transmitter and let RF waves do their magic. If it lived up to its packaging claims, the transmitter/receiver combination also could operate my remote controls through walls, floors, multiple rooms, and even politicians' thick skulls.

The packaging claims are greatly exaggerated. True, the devices often work when both the receiver and transmitter are in the same room -- but not always. Luckily, a Best Buy reviewer named mdjiron (who coincidentally also lives in Raleigh) came up with an engineering fix that other reviewers say works great. 

I have yet to try the hack, but if I don't electrocute myself, I'll report back with results. For now, I am just happy to keep my butt planted on my VERY comfortable sofa, channel surfing like a king.