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Live Every Day Like A Final Destination Movie

There's a saying "live every day like your last." But that's just stupid. Don't go out and do reckless things because today might be your last day. What you really should be doing is waking up every day, putting on your inside helmut, and going through life on high alert of dangerous situations. But I'm also a scardy cat. I think a more appropriate saying is "live every day like a Final Destination movie."You know the movies. They start with a group of people narrowly avoiding a freak accident only to then realize that the world is going to kill them in another freak accident, because they cheated death. The movie, or movies (whats the word for a five movie sequel?), then kills the characters off in another crazy way. One girl was in the drive through line for Burger King or something, sets of a chain of events starting with a drop of water, that ends with the car in front of her's engine flying off and slicing her head in two. Another one that really stuck with me was when a guy was driving behind one of those trucks with giant logs on the back, set off another chain of events and the logs flew off the truck and into his head! If you live everyday like a tanning bed accident is around the corner, you stop doing dangerous things. While some everyday things, like driving, can't be avoided, at least don't drive behind the truck carrying poles that are roughly eye socket size.
I think watching these movies before I turned ten could be the cause of my extreme anxiety of dying in a freak accident. Thinking Ted Bundy was cute at age eight, is probably the jumping off point for anxiety of getting murdered.
During my last trip to Paris I had a mini panic attack. Ty and I were getting ready to go to bed. I was on my sixth gin and grapefruit juice (excellent diet cocktail) when I finally realized how vulnerable we were. The Air BNB we rented was a ground floor and basement apartment. Our front door to the living room was in the courtyard. We had windows facing the courtyard, eye level to any potential intruders. It was basically like we were camping. The bedroom was in the basement. Basement is probably the wrong word, the downstairs was the farthest thing from a basement. It had a steam shower. Part of the bedroom ceiling was glass that looked up into the living room. Other than that, we couldn't see any proof of daylight. I was laying in bed looking up at the glass ceiling square and noticed I could see the light moving in the courtyard. Every time someone walked by the movement sensor, the courtyard would light up and the light would trickle down to the bedroom. I felt it was my duty to observe and report the comings and going of the light. Around 2am, all the street noises settled down, so I was able to hear when someone entered the main building door, I could hear them walking through the courtyard, I could even hear them using their keys to open up their own doors.
I don't do well with silence at night. I sleep with the TV on, which is both a trait genetically inherited by my mom as well as a way to be oblivious to the axe wielding murdered entering my apartment. I'd rather be killed in my sleep to reruns of The Office than know what is coming for me.  I also just find Michael Scott's voice to be soothing. But, that night in Paris, I let my anxiety get the best of me. I turned the TV off and just listened to all the noises I heard around me. I started to breathe a little bit heavier every time the light outside went on. "Who in the hell would be coming home at four in the morning." I didn't take into account that I used to be one of those coming home at four in the morning. I now believed that it was the witching hour and time to die. I started to sit up slowly, preparing myself for the inevitable noise of our front door opening. I  looked around the room for something that could be used as a weapon. Anything can be used for a weapon, a pen, a phone charger, anything. But damn this modern minimal apartment, there wasn't anything in the room at all! I would have to go upstairs if I wanted something sharp, but if I went upstairs, the guy stalking the outside of the door, would hear me move and attack. It was now 6am and I was about ready to call the coast guard. I couldn't stop asking myself why I picked out a ground floor apartment, why didn't I go with the 6th floor walk up in Saint Germain. I would be safe there and have great legs! As I sat there writing my will in the notes app on my Iphone, I noticed the sun was coming up, which meant I survived the night. I was fully aware that nobody gets murdered in the daylight! I successfully mentally warded off the Parisian Ripper. Could I call myself a hero?

The next night, exhausted from being a full time watch dog, I had another breakdown once in bed. But this one was because I wanted to stay in this apartment forever because I loved it so much, because I loved Paris so much and ten days was not enough. I took a good hard look at myself in the mirror and realized I might be crazy.
Now that I'm living in a place where regular people own chainsaws and axes for chores other than disposing of bodies, my anxiety of getting murdered has slightly shifted back to my anxiety of a freak accident. The other day, Ty was using a table saw to cut shelves for our bedroom, it was just a recipe for disaster. Have you ever seen a table saw? I had been furiously avoiding them for the past 23 years, so to see one in person was terrifying. These things should be outlawed. I stood about 15 feet away from Ty cutting the slices of wood and would yell "BE CAREFUL" every few seconds, just in case he forgot. I could visually picture a small bit of saw dust floating up into the air, falling onto the electrical outlet, creating a spark, sending a current all the way to the  table saw, jamming the on/off button and creating a burst of energy within the saw. This vision resulting in Ty loosing half his face, oh ya the spark would cause him to take a step back, get caught on the extension cord, putting his head right in the path of the now possessed saw blade. The vision went on as far as for me to Google if this would require an ambulance ride or if I could drive him straight to be the emergency room. Ty had to ask me to wait inside until he was finished.
Here's a photo of Ty using the table saw and me standing at a safe distance while covering my ears and shouting.

There's no point of any of this information, no ah ha moment where I really do learn to live every day like my last. I guess the point is to BE CAREFUL and stay on high alert for strange men lingering. And table saws. And chainsaws. And fuck it, stay away from butter knives too.
So, while we're all still unmurdered (is that a word?), here are some good things about life. Antiques! It's been a few weeks longer than normal since the last sale. Whoopsie. But, good news, the next sale is Monday June 10th! And it's a good one, maybe one of the best? Yes it's the best one!
Here's the sneak peak into a few of my favorite pieces this week. If you would like to purchase anything before the sale opens, just send me an email at or head over to where these six items available! Monday at 6am PST, more will be added so get ready!

The first featured item is a hand carved wood saint statue. He is missing a hand and an arm (probably from a table saw accident) but other than that, his features are still very well preserved. You can even see the red paint on the interior of his cloak. I'm not sure where or when he is from, but due to the wood texture, I would guess at least the 1800's.

Another favorite item of mine is this set of six French poetry books with leather binding from the late 1800's. The set includes the works of Victor Hugo, Leconte de Lisle, Sully Prudhomme, Francois Coppee and Jules Lemaitre. These are the perfect books to stack in your library. My grandmother filled her shelves with these old leather bound books, don't think she ever read them though, they're mainly decorative, but can be read if you can read! These books are smaller than today's novel size, which I find makes them delicate while also thick and sturdy, kinda like the actual poetry inside.

There's also four oil paintings this sale! Three landscapes and one figure. My favorite of the bunch are the a double-sided landscape and a figure painting. The double-sided piece is such a special one. I honestly didn't even notice it was double sided for the longest time. I thought I had lost the landscape one, only to realize it was just on the other side of the clouds. This would be a perfect painting to just rest up against a wall, flipping it every now and then.  I might actually have to buy this one myself. My other favorite that I might purchase before the sale even begins is the oval figure painting. The painting itself is very small, making it an excellent addition to my collection of small frames on my bedside table. The painting reminds me of a Rembrandt, it's dark yet detailed. The best part is the back of the painting though, there's remnants of red wax seals, it's amazing! I didn't frame this piece since the back is one of my favorite aspects of it, but it certainly would look great in a delicate oval frame.

Next up... A beautiful 19th century Italian alter candlestick. I have a thing for this candlesticks. I think they look beautiful anywhere really. My mom used to have a small collection of them next to our fireplace. She would light the candles instead of the fireplace since we lived in Southern California. Then, they traveled with us to NYC where she would light them instead of the fire again. Until one night, my mom and Jenny decided to make a nice cozy fire. About 15 minutes later, we heard a horde of people running down the stairs. We looked out our front door to find the entire building evacuating clutching their babies and desktop computers. Apparently, we weren't supposed to ever light the fireplace, because it wasn't a real one. Smoke from our apartment had been sent through the vents and filled all the apartments above us. Everyone thought the building was on fire. Oops. After that, she only ever lit candles. Anyways, this beautiful alter candlestick is made of wood and still has it's original gold gilt. It also has an engraving of "IHS" which is Latin for "Ieus Hominum Salvator" or Jesus, the savior of all men.

Saving the best for last.... a limestone head of Christ from the 18th century. I mean just wow. The woman I bought it from is a collector of religious artifacts and was selling her entire collection. Some of her pieces had been on display at museums even. She had all these wonderful perfectly preserved crucifixes and santos, but something about this stone head made me fall in love. I have a thing for fragments I think, I like the age to show, I like antiques to not be pristine. This head fits all that criteria. I was going to have it mounted to a stand, but then I learned all about the different types of mounts from wood to steel, big or small, and decided to let it be. It can be drilled and mounted to a wall or a base if you choose, but I thought I would leave that decision up to you. I found it looks great leaning against a stack of old books, since it's heavy enough to hold them up. on! There will be a few more items released on Monday along with these favorites of mine at HAVEDECORUM.COM
This will be the only sale for June, and we'll be back to our regularly programmed every other Monday sale in July. I'm going to visit my aunt Heather in Charleston this month so I will be busy eating pimento cheese and taking jailhouse ghost tours. Stay tuned!