townhouse style

Now will you take your garbage out to the dumpster, DAWGS?

My first apartment was in the huge complex of townhouse-styled buildings: my doorway faced another apartment doorway, outside (i.e. there was no inside common hallway like in a hotel). We shared a common sidewalk that led up to our doors. I meet Dawg 1 and Dawg 2 the first day there. They were socal surfer brodawgs who called everyone “dawg”, frequently. It became apparent that these two had the social skills of illiterate 5 year olds. They would throw parties on weeknights, late into the night, blasting music, with the front door open (my bedroom window was right over my doorway). I would dutifully put on underwear and ask them to close the door and lower the music, and they would cheerfully say “sure, dawg.” Eventually I just went over naked to get compliance.

Our apartment complex was apparently built on a massive anthill. I had sealed off the holes in my apartment to keep the things out, kept the place spotless, trash was always sealed off and taken out, etc, and kept the place ant-free. You can guess what the dawgs apartment looked like. So to keep THEIR ants out, they would just put the trash outside their door. Not take it to the dumpster, just leave it outside for days on end until they decided to stop being lazy. Of course, millions of ants would get into the bags and then where did they go? MY APARTMENT, but of course! I would ask them to take the trash to the dumpster, they’d say “no problem, dawg!” but forget to do it. I’d ask again, “oh, sorry dawg!” etc.

Finally one morning I reached my last straw. Knowing that these two dicks were sleeping after yet another party, I proceeded to rip open ALL of their garbage bags before I headed to work. These things had set out festering in the socal sun for a week. They were fucking rancid. I spread the trash EVERYWHERE. I covered the entire entrance and made it so that the dawgs couldn’t step over it, nor jump over it. When I came home I would just blame the racoon or skunk that we sometimes saw outside.

Came home that day, the walkway is spotless. The guys had just finished sweeping it all up and were actually scrubbing the sidewalk with cleaner and a mop. I was surprised to see they actually had these products, but no, it turns out they stole them from work. “Dawg, you won’t believe it! A racoon got into our trash and went crazy, this place was shithoused! We’re not leaving our trash out anymore!”

Good dawgies.

Open letter to Script Shrink and scriptAutistic

I don’t follow @scriptautistic, but I do follow @scriptshrink, and that latter has reblogged posts from scriptAutistic so that I can see them. So, Script Shrink, thank you for that.

Disclaimer: this is all stuff that I thought and experienced. Not everything I believed at the time was true, or nice, or pleasant, and for all I know there may still be incorrect information in here (sorry about that), but it is honest.

I was diagnosed with Asperger’s back when it was a diagnosis, some time in high school I think. I never looked up much information on it. I didn’t look up info on Tourette’s or ADHD either. I didn’t want to feel like there was anything wrong with me, so I avoided it as much as possible.

The first time I went to university (long story, not relevant here) I met someone who’d also been diagnosed with Asperger’s. I loved being around him – looking back, I can tell that I loved him, even if I hadn’t yet understood that it was in a non-romantic way – but sometimes I felt bad, when I compared myself to him. He had lots of friends. I had him, and whoever wasn’t telling me to shut up at the moment. He had a roommate that he got along with, and lived comfortably with the other people in his residence. I’d known from prior experience that having a roommate would be a Bad Idea for me, and I ended up getting kicked out of the townhouse-style residence after less than a month. We had the same diagnosis, so what was wrong with me, I would wonder, that he could function so well with others, and I couldn’t?

Skip ahead a few years. I hadn’t seen him in a while (and still haven’t) because of unrelated reasons. I was at a different university, studying linguistics, and took out a copy of the DSM-V from the library for the lulz. I ended up finding out that Asperger’s was no longer a separate diagnosis because one of the qualifiers had been “no difficulties with language” and pragmatics was a part of language. From my linguistics courses, I knew what pragmatics was: knowing when and in what manner to speak, among other things, which is something I definitely have problems with.

Skip forward a bit. Due to different unrelated reasons, someone was looking at potential alternate living accommodations for me, and mentioned a group home for people with autism. I had an automatic hell no I’m not disabled reaction (despite that I receive Disability from the provincial government), and my second reaction was that it was a bad idea to gather people together whose shared feature was problems with social interaction. The person looked it up anyways, and said that I wouldn’t be a candidate for that place anyways because I was too high-functioning. I mentally looked at my life, and how much of a mess it was, and assumed that anyone who functioned at a lower level than me, would be completely helpless, and also a bunch of other things that I’m not going to put here, but they’re all derogatory.

Skip forward to a few weeks or months ago. I saw posts on my dash about autism. I had never even heard of some of those terms, but what they described sounded very familiar. I started to gradually accept it, not as a brokenness, but as a difference. I think the most important information was that there is no such thing as “high-functioning” or “low-functioning” autism, just a bunch of different elements – like under categories of social interaction, sensory processing, executive function, meltdowns – that are at different levels for everyone with autism, which can be more or less problematic, depending on the person and their situation.

There are two things I found particularly reassuring, odd as they may seem. The first is that clumsiness (or whatever the technical name is) is common among people with autism. Now, my mother has a type of “hell if we know” nervous system disorder, and has gone from walking with two canes (when I was little) to being in a wheelchair full-time. Whenever I would drop my keys or trip over my own feet, sometimes I wondered if I’d inherited that from her as well, along with my nose shape and skin that sunburns stupidly easy. But now, I don’t think I have to worry about that.

The second thing is hypersensitivity to sound. I can hear people talking across the apartment, and what they’re talking about, and pick up quieter sounds than others; but I can barely understand what someone’s saying if there’s a lot of background noise. I did a paper on auditory neuropathy once, so I know there’s more to “hearing impairment” than just detectable sound threshold, so I’d been worried about that. Now my hearing hasn’t been formally tested lately, but there’s a likely non-clinical explanation for my problems with background noise, which is quite a relief.

In conclusion, I’ve learned more about a part of myself from just seeing scriptAutistic’s reblogged posts, in the past few months, than all the years previous. Thanks for that.

New Orleans - USA

New Orleans is one of the most architecturally diverse cities in the USA. One of the most iconic styles in the city are Creole townhouses. This style of townhouse occupies much of the cities French Quarter, and the Faubourg Marigny area. Creole townhouses were built after the Great New Orleans Fire of 1788, and up until the mid 19th century. Some features of the style are courtyards, thick walls, arcades, and cast iron balconies.  The facades of the townhouses sit on the property boundary, usually with arched doorways and windows. 

There are many organisations in New Orleans that are dedicated to preserving the history of the neighbourhoods in the city. These organisations include the Friends of the Cabildo, who also offer walking tours of the French Quarter. 

Spectacular tangerine sitting room in theWashington, D.C. Federal-style townhouse of Evangeline Bruce decorated by John Fowler. The pair of English Gothick chairs once belonged to Nancy Lancaster.

Alternative American Wizarding School: Maralleyne University

Maralleyne University, Lake Pontchartrain, Louisiana

  • Founded in 1788 following The Great New Orleans Fire, which destroyed the original school building, by Étienne Maralleyne, the third son of a chef in Marseille and a pureblood graduate from Beauxbaton and his wife Roxane, a mudblood Beauxbaton grad.
  • Also known as Hex-U.
  • Primary studies in jinxes, hexes, curses, demonology, potions, and the study of loa. While students may study voodoo, conference of a degree does not grant a student the right to be queen, king, priestess, or priest, as voodoo is a spiritual practice in addition to a magical one.
  • Because of the focus given to the dark arts, Maralleyne is also home to the premiere Defense against the Dark Arts teachers in North America. One must always be on hand during hex and curse classes, as a precaution.
  • Colors: Purple and Silver
  • Accessible by the paddlewheel boat Le Cygne d’Argent

The school now resides on a hidden island in Lake Pontchartrain, protected by a misdirection spell that directs anyone attempting to approach without using an enchanted boat around the island. They find themselves simply unable to point their vessel directly at it. It is also cloaked with an invisibility spell, so the water’s surface appears unbroken.

Keep reading


Felicity Townhouse

Styled after the felicity theme, this townhouse has 3 bedrooms and 3 bathrooms. There’s also a large kitchen/dining, sitting room and playroom. The upper hallways feature small sitting areas and reading nooks as well as places for children to play.

Designed as more of a holiday home, this townhouse is perfect for the wealthier family looking to unwind during the summer holidays.

The house is built for ~5 sims (master bedroom, teen/ya bedroom and childrens room with 2 beds)

3br, 3ba.
Lot size: 30x20
Price: 229,692

> Download
You can find this lot in the gallery under my username AlwayOlive, #Simkea or #AlwayOlive. 



This has been the year of everything,” actor David Burtka says of the past 12 months with his husband, actor Neil Patrick Harris. He’s not kidding: In 2014 Harris wrapped the ninth and final season of the CBS hit show How I Met Your Mother and earned a Tony Award for his Broadway star turn in the lead role of Hedwig and the Angry Inch. And the couple, their four-year-old twins, Gideon and Harper, and their two dogs moved from Los Angeles to New York City, settling into a townhouse they spent more than a year renovating. As if that weren’t enough, they also got married this past September in Italy, where the festivities included a performance by their pal Elton John. “Getting married, moving, new jobs—we did all the things they say can ruin a relationship,” jokes Burtka.
“The funny thing is, we’ve never gotten along better!” Harris adds, laughing. Things show no sign of slowing down either: A few weeks after Harris tackles Hollywood’s highest-profile one-night gig, hosting this year’s Oscars, Burtka starts previews of the Broadway musical It Shoulda Been You, a comedy directed by David Hyde Pierce. Oh, and Harris is busy developing a variety show he’ll host on NBC, expected to debut later in the year.
Harris and Burtka first met in New York more than a decade ago, and they moved to L.A. together when Harris landed the role of wisecracking ladies’ man Barney Stinson on How I Met Your Mother. “I assumed the show would be a short chapter,” Harris says. The sitcom was a smash, though, and they stayed in California for nearly ten years. “But the plan was always to come back to New York when the show ended and raise our family.”
Once the series entered its final season in fall 2013, the couple’s search for a New York home began in earnest. They had kept a pied-à-terre near Columbia University, in Harlem, while living on the West Coast, and though they explored options all across the city, they ended up staying in that neighborhood. Burtka says he “just had that feeling” when he first entered the five-story, late-19th-century townhouse, which needed a bit of structural work but had tons of character and featured sufficient street-level space for Harris’s production-company offices and a screening room.