casa fabuloso: the tour
posted by t h e s l a c k m i s t r e s s on Aug 27, 06 | 2:44 pm

When I moved into Casa Fabuloso back in late January, I promised a tour.

I never gave one.

I’ve thought a lot about my house lately, namely that I’m living way beyond my means. It’s the first time I’ve moved somewhere that I couldn’t afford, I mused.

And almost immediately I thought that isn’t true.

I couldn’t afford Casa Mysterioso. Not just financially, although that certainly was the case. While I had a few good months – and a couple of fabulous moments in-between – the two and a half years that I spent in the house I share with my ex-boyfriend cost me much more. Everything that I had worked so hard for, who I was and what I was trying to do with my life, all disappeared while I played Happy Homemaker.

Obviously it wasn’t the actual structure – or A., I’d like to make that perfectly clear – that was the cause. No, that was all me. I was living a life that wasn’t mine. I was living a life that I hadn’t earned. I was living a life I couldn’t afford.

There was no way to know. It was new and exciting and we were stupidly in love. Looking back, I’m amazed at how absolutely crazy we were about each other. I wonder, knowing what I do now, if I would have done it the same way. Maybe? I like the slackmistress 3.0 I’ve discovered on the other side, but the process has been rife with humiliating moments and dark, dark nights and more tears than I’ll cop to in a public forum.

I fled my old life, my old house, thinking things would get better. I fled thinking this would be the year. I fled thinking something would break.

It was the year. And the thing that broke? Me.

Things didn’t get better, they got worse. Life took a nosedive in ways that I couldn’t even begin to comprehend. I mean, let’s face it. Life has been extra-special terrible lately. I’m not the only one noticing it. My friends, after getting the update, always ask why the hell is this happening to you? It’s getting stupid.

I don’t’ know whether to laugh or cry, so I do both. Then I keep going.

This week, the name of the game was money issues. Namely, I didn’t have any. I separated my life into things that I can sell and things worth nothing. And while I looked around my house - my beautifully furnished, beautifully decorated, beautifully slackmistressed house – I thought you dummy, you did it again.

Once again, I’m living a life I can’t afford. I didn’t work for any of this. I’m paying for it, sure, but I’m living off of something I once was in a hope to get it back.

That’s not going to happen.

Maybe I’ll sell the new show I’m going to pitch. Maybe I’ll find some sort of work in San Francisco. Maybe I’ll move back in with my parents and go to law school.

Hopefully I’ll take these lessons with me when I do.

There’s one thing that I have earned: every pair of eyes crossing the screen right now. And I’d like to thank you. Thank you for being so generous with your time, your thoughts, and your wallets. I cannot even begin to repay the kindness offered me.

With that, here’s my life. Or, more to the point, my stuff. Because it’s not me. I know I can put together a beautiful home. I did that once before. Outside of my brain, there are only three things that I need in my life. They’re at the end.




The kitchen.




The dining area.




My study. Where the magic happens.




The Secrets to the Universe are contained within.




Or is this where the magic happens?




Live, dammit, live!




The bar. Where the magic starts.


And the three things that I need?




Daisy the WonderDog.




My MacBook.




My car. It’s a pink Mini Cooper, people! There’s no way in hell I’m giving this up.