I've got a new great idea...

I'm going to give it all up and become a plumber. Vivian is going to be my assistant. Mainly she's going to plonk down close to whatever I'm working on and try to steal drill bits and screws and other metal objects from me while I'm not looking, then give me innocent eyes when I call her on it.

I'll have to get her a tool belt.

Spent a good deal of time today attempting to replace the toilet in the master bathroom so my dad doesn't have to do it when he gets back from Kansas. And as horrific as I thought the task was going to be....turned out most of those fears were unfounded. Although the wax seal stuff is just strange.

During the process of removing the old toilet, it became pretty clear to Shibbs and I just how cheaply our house was built. Needless to say, we hit a couple of snags, which is why we're only halfway through the job.

First off: the metal flange the toilet bolts onto is completely corroded and useless. Apparently this had caused enough of a problem for someone (presumably Dad) to go in and rig a quick cheap fix. So Shibbs and I traipse off to the Home Depot (again) to see if we can get another one.

Ahhhhhhhh. Home Depot. I want to work there. I want to be knowledgeable about plumbing or lumber or gardening enough that I can help lost-looking customers and swap job site horror stories with construction workers dropping in to pick up a part. I could wander the aisles in there for hours, and I have no idea why since I have no sort of DIY knowledge to speak of and very rarely manage to call things by their proper names. Case in point: Shibbs and I today on our search for the flange. Didn't know that was the name until I repeated "You know, the metal circle thingie that the toilet bolts onto around the drainage pipe whatsit on the floor," enough times for the guy to know what I was talking about. There were also lots of descriptive hand gestures on my part. I think the picture of it that we brought with us helped.

I had been hoping that the fella who Mom and I struck up a rapport with when we were buying the toilet (and then helped me and Shibbs get the right part for the bathtub) would be working since he's super-friendly and helpful without making me feel like he's dumbing it down for a silly girl who doesn't know her way around a tool box. Couldn't find him in the plumbing section, and the old guy who deciphered "thingie" and "whatsit" and hand gestures (with a help from a picture on digital camera) quickly foisted us off on this other guy who had somehow gotten involved with our toilet-buying escapades the previous week.

I was not happy with this foisting off because this guy is the other (and more common) type of male Home Depot employee. The one that assumes I don't know anything about anything. And while I freely admit that I don't know what I'm doing to the point of having to either follow printed instructions or just sort of figure it out when it comes to home repair, that does not mean I won't get pissy if you are real quick to assume that's the case. Especially since you're working in customer service. AND THEN, just to make things worse, oh pretty please insinuate that I'm not strong enough to lift something and that somebody will take it to my car.

Buddy. The toilet only weighs 100 pounds. There were two of us, and me and Mom have both done our fair share of baggage-slinging at the airport. Oh, and we're taking the initiative to replace a toilet all by our weak, wilting, helpless selves.

Obviously this guy hit a nerve when he interfered on toilet-buying day, so the prospect of relying on this guy to help us in our flange foray had me a little concerned...

Sure enough. He came down from on almighty plumbing high to help us poor, helpless, silly, clueless females who were obviously messing around with man's work. Once on the proper aisle, my eyes quickly caught on the part we needed, only to be told that replacing the flange is a really tough job and you have to be very very very careful you don't damage the main pipe because then you have to take out the floor and re-do everything. You see...the flange thingie is attached to a bit of PVC that you then cement into the drainage pipe. To replace that involves lots of careful banging and hacksawing.

So he presented the quick and easy fix, which more or less amounts to the metal ring part of the flange that you then screw down over the top of the existing flange. But when I say the existing flange is corroded.... I feel like "corroded" doesn't properly convey the mess of rusted out metal mixed with wax sealant that appeared once we took the old toilet out. So I was a bit nervous that, like the quick fix my dad tried, this quick fix would fail and I'd have to take the toilet out again and go back and replace the flange after all.

Thankfully Shelby was with me, otherwise I would've tried to replace the flange and probably ruined everything, all because of my prickly sense of capability. After a couple of weighty exchanges of eye contact, we both agreed to forgo the risk of completely screwing everything up and thus incurring the mighty wrath of Billiam so close to the ends of our respective summers. Got the fake flange, got some caulk, traipsed home.

Vivian, for some reason, likes to sit and watch me fix plumbing problems. She kept me company on Friday when I fixed the bathtub, and she sat with us today while we futzed about with the toilet. It would be cuter if I didn't have to keep an eye out for her stealing drill bits or any other spare metal or really anything available to chew on.

Anyway, fake flange in hand, Shibbs and I finish scraping off all the old wax in order to install the fix. Except (hooray for cheap construction) we can't get the fake flange to fit over the real flange because the lazy jackasses who laid the tile in that bathroom did a really imprecise job of cutting the tiles to fit around the drain pipe and flange. So I got to attempt to chip off the overhange with a scraper and a hammer. You've got to be kidding me.

Finally manage to get the tile trimmed and the fake flange on top. Now to anchor the thing into the subfloor...

Except, of course, I only have two screws and one of them, for some god-unknown reason, isn't catching the threads and frickin' screwing down into the subfloor.

WHY ME?!

This means another trip to Home Depot, and at this point Shelby and I opt to put the project on hold until tomorrow as we're meant to go to Grandma's house for dinner and it's already 3:30.

So it's on hold. Stopped by the Home Depot by Grandma's house this time because I feel like I've been seen in mine too often this past week, and mostly in my hippie dress (I swear I haven't worn anything besides that dress out in public since I bought it. It is that comfortable). But the hippie dress is golden at Home Depot. I get help from nice people, not assholes. The guy at Grandma's Home Depot did all the work and found me replacement screws, saving me time spent pawing through the thousands of different types of screws they sell.

So as soon as I wake up...going to finish the job. I hope. And, as a bonus nice thing for Dad, I'm going to fix the shower too, since I am now familiar with the pressure arm hoozits on bathtub faucets. He's using a wrench to work the thing right now. Classy.

Plus I have to finish fine-tuning the replacement pressure thingie in my bathroom. And clean the house. I should probably go to bed.

Diet is still going strong. Despite MASSIVE TEMPTATION in the form of baked goods tonight at Grandma's house. Only a week left, then I get to eat fruit again!