It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...

Last weekend was sort of a mixed bag. On Friday we had our new door installed, which went great. The contractors came right on time, and were finished in about 3 hours. We went through Lowe's, and the guys they sent were awesome. I felt bad that they had to endure some griping from the grumpy old man downstairs, but told them not too worry about him. He hates everyone.

OLD DOOR:

(note damage)


GAPING HOLE:


NEW DOOR:


And the new door handle is superior, in that it does not spontaneously decide NOT to unlock from the inside. Sweet. All we have to do is wait for the weather to cooperate so we can stain and paint it. This weekend is looking promising.

But on Saturday, trouble came knocking at our new front door. We had purchased a new mattress the previous weekend, and the delivery guys brought it that morning. If you've had to buy a mattress in the last lifetime or so, you may be aware of how incredibly creepy mattress stores/salesmen are. The one we dealt with was a total shyster- worse than any used car salesman. So we were already mildly irritated with the whole process... then the delivery guys could not get the box spring up the stairs. Fucking Ryan Homes. Seriously. Who the hell designs a house in which you cannot physically fit a damn queen size box spring up the stairs. I want to punch these people in the face with a brick. We had to send the box spring back with the delivery guys, and go pick up a split box spring from the warehouse ourselves (which of course cost extra).

OK, it should all be good now, right? Nope. We unwrap the mattress only to see that the seam on one side is, well, not there for about six inches. Shit. And to add insult to injury, the Mattress Warehouse people were total assholes about getting it replaced for free- they made it seem like they were doing us a favor by exchanging it, then tried to charge us for delivering it. Doucheguzzlers. Luckily, I married a man who toes the line of legality if he feels at all slighted. I wouldn't be surprised the salesman wept a little in the men's room later, as a result of Scott's verbal assault. Anywho, the new mattress should be delivered on Wednesday morning. We'll see.

At least with the front door replaced, we can paint the living room. I'm really looking forward to that. Oh, and a fun fact: when the old front door was being removed, we learned it wasn't actually attached to anything. It took three pries with the crowbar to get it out. One contractor remarked, "I'm surprised [the battering ram] didn't just push in the whole door," meaning frame and all.

If you're considering buying a Ryan home, you might want to reconsider. The level of craftsmanship in this place leads me to believe drunken apes built it. More than half our doors are hung poorly enough that they don't close properly. Many of our windows aren't hung right, either. I don't believe the crackheads hung the doors and windows, which makes this the fault of Ryan Homes.

Do you hear me Ryan Homes? We're onto you. And blogging about it.