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Archive for February, 2007

2/28/07

by @ Wednesday, February 28th, 2007. Filed under Life

MEMO From: Reggie Reginald, CEO, Acme Water Company To: All Bob, Jim, James, Albert, Susan, and the rest of the Public Relations team – Please see the attached report, which states that the “Free Hellcat with each case of water purchased” campaign turned out to be more successful than we could have ever imagined. We admittedly had a few glitches to work out at first (Susan, so sorry to hear about your pinky. The first round of Hellcats were unfortunately faster and meaner than we expected.), but once we realized that the Hellcats had to be muzzled until removed from the case of water, things went smoothly. Congratulations on a job well done, all of you! If everyone hadn’t pitched in, I suspect this promotion wouldn’t have gone nearly as well. (Bob, so sorry to hear about the eye. Who knew that Hellcats enjoy ripping eyeballs from your face and then batting them around the room? For that matter, who knew eyeballs would bounce so well?) Since the Hellcat promotion ended there have been many extremely upset families who want to know, in the words of one unhappy father “Where the hell our Hellcat is.” He went on to add “We been promisin’ Cecil that if he passed second grade we’d get ‘im one o’ them Hellcats. Does I gotta sue you assholes to get my Hellcat?” Joe in Legal did point out that since we kept the Hellcat promotion going up until the end date stated in size 1 font at the bottom of every ad, we fulfilled our legal obligation and while families can tie us up in court for a few years, their cases will ultimately be tossed out. (Speaking of Joe in Legal, please make sure that at least one person from Public Relations is seen at his sister’s funeral. Who knew that two Hellcats in one house could cause a house to actually move three feet off the foundation, squishing like a grape anyone who happens to be working in her garden at the time?) But we do like to make families happy – the screams of joy from families who have their own Hellcats ring in my ears every evening and make me smile as I walk down my street after dinner – and so Alfred and David (may they rest in peace) finished up research into a new project shortly before the lab was taken over by those angry cats who set fire to both men before escaping through an inconveniently open window (who knew that animals with no opposable thumbs could work lighters?). Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the new campaign for March 2007: “Free HateCat with each case of water”! Find attached pictures of a sample case which has had the aforementioned HateCat (we went with a gray prototype this time around) inserted and is ready for shipping. The stump of a tail rather than a full-length tail prevents cases from jamming up on the shipping queue (a rather ingenius suggestion from the late Dr. Craig); I feel certain that we’ve worked out the glitches involved in the HellCat promotion. This is going to be our biggest promotion yet; please be sure you review all the attached materials, and whoever in Public Relations bears no sign of Hellcat injury (Jim? I know you lost a couple of toes and a chunk of your right thigh, but those injuries are easily covered.) needs to take responsibility for being the face of Acme for the duration of this promotion. Again – job well done, folks. If you have any questions, feel free to contact Mark in Containment and Taming. Dealing with the HateCats is quite similar to dealing with the HellCats – don’t make eye contact, be sure you’re wearing mesh suits (face covering too, please, as I’m sure Ned in Shipping would tell you, if his lips hadn’t been ripped off and eaten by a remnant HellCat last week), keep one hand on your can of mace at all times (in the eyes, folks, or the mace has no effect at all. You have to aim – panicking and spraying mace in the general direction of the HateCat does none of us any good) and a bag of organic catnip in the other at all times. I know you all know this, but I’ll repeat it just in case: should you inadvertently make eye contact with a HateCat, look away immediately, throw an open bag of catnip at him, and run like hell. If they run you down, go limp. They’ll chew on any exposed flesh for a few minutes, but chances are good they’ll leave you alive. (Pete in Receiving being the exception that proves the rule, of course.) The HateCat is a patented volatile mix of Ah Needs me Some Love® mixed with the highly secret formula (developed by the late Dr. Craig before his unfortunate death) hereafter known as Ah Hets Yew®; for the love of god, don’t be lulled into complacency by the deep musical purr and stumpy-tail-thumping of this animal. Be on guard at all times. We managed to only lose 17 people with the HellCat promotion, but another 167 were seriously injured and are on leave indefinitely. I’d like a lower number during the HateCat campaign. Everyone have a safe day – and be careful out there! ~Reg Attached photos for your review: HateCat, closeup; HateCat, inserted; HateCat hating.

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Previously 2006: Yeah, one of those days. 2005: So sue me. 2004: Always. 2003: What keeps me sane. 2002: No entry. 2001: Plants. 2000: Translation: I’m going to get a gown that will cover your fat ass.]]>

2/27/07

by @ Tuesday, February 27th, 2007. Filed under Fostering, Life, New house

Dinyel has gotten me completely and totally hooked on this site. I haven’t ordered anything (yet!), but I lovelovelove looking at the jewelry. They have some really pretty stuff, and I always think about ordering anything with a topaz in it (such a pretty stone!), but have held strong, so far. I saw some really pretty earrings I liked, but they had the wire back on them rather than the straight pin with the back, and I can’t wear wire-backed earrings, because the end of the wire gives me a rash under my ear. It’s only in the last few years that I’ve come to realize I prefer silver over gold – though I do own jewelry in both, and even wear them together sometimes. Not that I wear much jewelry, but when I do, I don’t hesitate to mix gold and silver. I wear white after Labor Day, too. Life’s too short to stress that shit, don’tchathink?

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What I spent yesterday doing: Cooking, cooking, cooking… and cooking! Since I’m spending today and tomorrow out in Smallville, I don’t want to have to worry about cooking dinner before I leave, so I made Tex-Mex, Taco Beef stuff, Chicken and Rice Casserole, and then pork chops and sweet potato crack for dinner last night. I packaged all of the three first meals into single-serving containers, froze some, refrigerated some, and god willing and the creek don’t rise, I won’t have to cook again for the rest of the week, except for vegetables to go with the meals. I also made a CORE Salsa Meatloaf and a spaghetti squash, so for the next few weeks I’ll be eating meatloaf with a side of spaghetti squash for lunch most days. Just call me Betty Homemaker. I wasn’t thrilled to spend such a large part of the day cooking, but I was able to watch TV while I cooked (potential problem in Smallville: Can’t see the TV from the kitchen!) and get several shows erased off the DVR. Plus, I won’t have to cook again for the rest of the week, so that kinda makes the time spent now worth not having to spend time doing it in the future, if that makes any sense.
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I’ll be leaving Smallville around 4 this afternoon to drive to Madison, pick up Joe Bob, and take him to the pet store. Yes, after he’s been with us for something like two months, it’s time for him to go and possibly be adopted. He’s adapted really well to life here and he’s such a sweet boy, but I really think that seven cats is just too many for us to have on a permanent basis. Six really feels like the right number for us – add a seventh, and I feel like there are cats every three inches, and I’m always stepping on or kicking one of them (by accident, you understand). Also, I was told by a hateful man that if we adopted Joe Bob, I’d never be allowed to foster again, ever, so off Joe Bob goes. Another woman who fosters for the same shelter once told me, basically, “I love the hell out of them while I’ve got them, and then when it’s time, I pass them along for someone else to love. It’s never easy.” She’s right, it’s never easy – but I know someone’s going to love the hell out of Joe Bob, and now that he’s healthy it’s time for him to go be where they can find him.
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What kind of improvements need to be made to the foster kitty area above the garage? Are you going to move in before you fix it up? Basically, the foster kitty area above the garage needs to be completely built. There’s nothing on the upper floor of the garage except a floor. We need to drywall the walls, put in insulation, replace the windows, put in a heating/ air conditioning window unit, and build the room. We’re only using about half the upper floor as a foster cat room (the other half will be for storage), so we need to put up walls to define the room. So it’s not going to happen real soon. There are other things that need to happen first – the small deck/ steps off the computer room door to the outside, the chicken coop, the backyard fenced in, the big shed Fred wants to build – before the cat room becomes a priority. For the time being, I’ll be using the guest bedroom as a cat foster room (when I get more fosters, that is), until we get the room over the garage built.
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I will expect, however, some seriously funny posts about how the cats are adjusting to the move. I do hope your house sells fast – you kitties NEED their mommy there at night – they need a body to drape upon, walk over, knead (poor suggie) and otherwise pester. I hope you are gearing up for some pitiful looks and Look O’ Hate ™ (from Mr. Boog) when you get to Smallville in the mornings. Actually, the kitties will have their mommy there at night – we were originally going to have Fred move to Smallville and stay out there nights, while I stayed in Madison with the spud. But really, it makes more sense to have him stay in Madison with the spud, since it’s closer to work for him. So I’ll be sleeping out in Smallville with the cats and spending part of the day there, then driving to Madison to hang out with Fred and the spud, make dinner, and make sure the house is presentable for any buyers who want to check it out. And some days they’ll come out to Smallville and hang out (though there won’t be any cable or internet connection in Smallville until we’re all living there). All the driving back and forth won’t be fun, but I think we’ll deal with it okay. Hopefully we’ll get the house sold quickly!
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“See yas. I’m off to find a home where they don’t yell at me for pulling food out of the garbage can. That’s what it’s THERE FOR, people! What am I SUPPOSED to do when I want a snack?”
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Previously 2006: I swear to god, I have NO CONTROL over what comes out of my mouth sometimes. 2005: No entry. 2004: Dude, what the fuck? I don’t talk for 20 to 30 minutes on the phone to people I know and LIKE, let alone some strange man from the CDC! 2003: A Day in the Life of Mr. Fancypants. 2002: No entry. 2001: But I kinda like the irritability. 2000: My heart stopped, my jaw dropped, and I whispered “Oh, shiiiiiiiiiiit!”]]>

2/26/07

by @ Monday, February 26th, 2007. Filed under Life, New house

* * * Dear all readers: It’s perfectly fine to say “hi” to me, should you stumble across me in the future. I’ll probably be a little freaked out, but I’ll get over it quickly, I promise. If you’re too shy to come say “hi” and I already noticed the bug-eyed look you gave me, a subtle nod and wave before you run in the other direction will do. Sincerely, Bitchypoo

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Christ, what a weekend we had. We spent Saturday and Sunday working on the house and I feel like I didn’t get shit accomplished. Saturday I don’t think I did anything but caulk and do whatever piddly little things that needed to be done (quarter-round moulding painted, stuff like that). Before Friday I’d never caulked before, but now I’m just a caulking machine. I’ll be spending all day tomorrow out at the house trying to get the rest of the rooms caulked (I only got the computer room, dining room, and kitchen caulked over the weekend) and puttied, before I start scrubbing down the walls (the floors guys used their “dustless” system, which still managed to leave quite a large amount of dust on the walls), taping the rooms, and painting the trim. I’m really looking forward to painting all the trim in the house, not to mention scrubbing down all the walls. I think you can imagine how very much I’m looking forward to it. Also, the tile in the bathrooms needs to be sealed, but I think I’ll leave that for Fred (or not, we’ll see). Other thing I did this weekend that I had never done before: stained wood. We’re putting quarter-round moulding down on the stairs. I thought it should be stained, Fred thought it should be white. I won out, and got to actually stain said quarter-round moulding. I’d never done it before, but it wasn’t all that hard, really. We had issues with the bathrooms. We (I) tossed out important items that have to do with the bathtub fixtures and thought Fred was going to have a stroke trying to deal with them. Finally he said “This doesn’t have to be done today,” and went on to do other things, like hang the new medicine cabinet in the two downstairs bathrooms. In fact, the back half-bath is completely done except for touch-up painting, and the front bathroom is done except for hanging the door and putting the fixtures on the tub. Oh, and hanging the shower rod and buying a shower curtain for both the showers. The more I think about it, the more I remember stuff that needs to be done. Ugh. Also, it looks like our bathrooms are going to be half brushed nickel (the sink fixtures, the towel bars) and half chrome (the shower fixtures). I don’t love the idea, but I can live with it. Unless someone’s looking closer than they oughta at our bathroom fixtures, they probably won’t notice – the difference isn’t glaring. Yeah, mock me. You don’t have to live there, so shaddup. I just won’t invite you to dinner. Most of the blinds downstairs are hung, and it makes a surprising difference in the feel of the house. I stood in the computer room for almost ten minutes yesterday afternoon planning how and where I was going to put my desk (in front of the set of windows, so the cats sleeping on my desk can look outside, in case you were wondering). We’re on track to do the first big move in two weeks, I think. Dudes, the house is really coming together! Eek! Also, I didn’t take a picture to show this because I suck, but there are 10 million gumballs from the gumball trees behind the garage and shed. They’re laying all over the driveway and the lawn, and they annoy the hell out of me. I told Fred we should rake them up and burn them, but then I heard the gumball trees laaaaaaaaaugh and say “Yeah, you rake them up. There are another 10 million where those came from, lady!” Hmph. The winter honeysuckle bushes on either side of the porch smell absolutely fabulous. They’re lemony and citrusy and very light and springy smelling. I like them a lot. I’m not so crazy about what I think are spirea bushes planted next to the honeysuckle bushes, but I’m going to wait to see them do their thing before I decide whether I want to yank them up and put butterfly bushes in their place or not. I’m thinking the front flower beds are going to consist of just bushes – azaleas and something else, I don’t know what at the moment – and I can do the flower thing in pots sitting on and hanging from the front porch. There’s going to be some serious petunias going on in Smallville this summer, I tell you what. A single, solitary crocus growing in the middle of the lawn. The camellia bush is starting to bloom. Apparently it enjoys its spot next to the septic tank.
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I don’t know when you can expect an entry from me next. I’ll be spending all day Tuesday and all day Wednesday out at the house working. If I get a chance I’ll do entries on those days, but if not I guess I’ll see you on Thursday!
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Previously 2006: No entry. 2005: No entry. 2004: God, why why WHY do women do this to themselves? 2003: A Day in the Life of Spanky. 2002: No entry. 2001: Saturday was my dumbass day. 2000: No entry.]]>

2/23/07

by @ Friday, February 23rd, 2007. Filed under Life


(In case you were wanting to find a good place to send some of that tax refund money!)
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If someone out there has the mad skillz to go to Keith and the Girl, click on “All episodes”, download show #444: I Heart Orgasms, and make for me an mp3 of the song Chemda sings at the end of the show, I would totally pay you back by linking to you. I would also love you forever, because I am loving the hell out of that song, and I want to be able to listen to it without having to fast-forward to the end of the podcast. (Got it! BLESS YOU, Bonkrood!!!)
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You’ve got questions, I’ve got answers. How did you find out about the free trees thing? I’m sure they’re tiny babies, but still, that’s cool. Fred’s business partner told him about it. Very cool, isn’t it? (For those of you who didn’t catch it in yesterday’s entry, if you sign up for a membership at the National Arbor Day Foundation, you get ten free trees. I’m sure they’ll just be sticks when they get here, but I’ve grown things from sticks before (the butterfly bush we had in the side yard, for one), and they’ve grown pretty well. I’m looking forward to figuring out where we’re going to plant these trees! We’ve got room, though, and plenty of it.
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Do your cats fight over the right to sleep in the top of that cat tree thing? Ours do AND they use it as a launching point when they are racing around the house crazy style. PLUS they all LOVE to hang out and play in the bathtub. Do your cats do that? The only cat who seems interested in sleeping in the top platform of the cat tree is Sugarbutt, most of the time. Sometimes someone else will hang out up there, but the majority of the time, it’s just Sugarbutt. Tommy has visiting privileges, though. Sugarbutt and Tommy love to hang out in the bathtub and play – if you throw a toy mouse in there, they’ll play for hours. But they’re just as happy to just lay there or chase a piece of food around the bathtub, too.
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Hey Robyn, I know you enjoy chick lit so I was wondering if you ever read anything by Rachel Gibson. I just finished one of her books, “The Trouble with Valentine’s Day” and it had me laugh out loud so many times I just have to read another one. It’s the oddest thing – I could have sworn I’d read something by her – her name seems very very familiar – but after checking out my reading list, I didn’t find a single thing on there by her. So I guess I haven’t! I’ll definitely check her out, though.
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Not a comment, but a question – do you, or where do you plan to put your exercise equipment that you currently have in your garage when you move to Smallville? And how is your workout routine going? Are you back to it? We’re going to put the exercise equipment in the garage in Smallville, of course. In fact, the garage there is bigger than our garage in Madison, so we should be able to park at least one car inside, if not two. We talked about putting the exercise equipment on the second floor of the garage, but it’s far too heavy for that, so we’ll be putting it in the back of the garage. As far as my workout routine, it’s not going at all. The entirety of my working out seems to be working on the Smallville house. Until now that was because the weather was so damn cold, but I don’t have that as an excuse any longer, so I guess I’d better get back to it!
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is that cat poo on the floor? a dead mouse? and Me thinks one of the cats was so PO’ed he POOPED on your carpet! THAT IS NOT CAT POO ON THE FLOOR (in this picture). Seriously, I might be a bit lackadaisical in my housekeeping, but I wouldn’t let CAT POO sit around on the floor, let alone let it show up in a picture! That’s a toy mouse, of which there are approximately 10,000 scattered around the house.
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Um, do you find it odd selling your “gently” used bras on ebay? Does it matter if a stalker wins them? Just curious, not judging. I’ve never sold mine because I’d be fraid — especially since my return addy is on the package! I don’t find the selling of them so odd as the fact that there are actually people out there willing to buy them. I figure if someone wants to buy them, let ’em – no matter what creepy things they intend to use them for (which I try not to think about). As far as return addresses, I use my PO Box address for everything. If someone wants to stalk me, they’ll have to find a better way than buying something of mine from eBay. I’m more concerned that someone might find a hair or skin cell on the bra or package and clone me, then do nefarious things with my clone. CREEPY.
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I was curious as to what snacks/foods you take to Smallville with you — I don’t recall you mentioning having a full refrigerator (or a refrigerator at all for that matter) (for you & Fred, not the cats HA). I have been using the Sparkpeople free site for weight loss tracking online support and am doing pretty good (14 lbs. gone so far!). Have you checked it out? It has lots of blogs to read, to kill time with Ha Ha. We actually do have a full-sized refrigerator at the Smallville house. We realized pretty quickly that the refrigerator we have in Madison wasn’t going to fit the spot in Smallville, so bought an inexpensive, smaller one. We’re going to put the refrigerator we have in the Madison house, in the laundry room in Smallville for extra fridge space. For meals in Smallville, we just take leftovers from the freezer, most of the time. I have taken eggs and a pan out there from time to time to make a small omelet for breakfast, but that got to be a pain, so I eat a low-carb bagel for breakfast (with peanut butter), and then whatever leftovers I brought with me, for lunch. We don’t really snack while we’re out there, though there’s a bag of mini rice cakes that have been sitting on the counter for a couple of weeks now. I haven’t had a chance to really check out the Sparkpeople site yet, but hope to when I get a little more time and things calm down around here!
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I don’t know about the I-Pod, but I can assure you, if you drop your Razr into your drink, it will surely die. Dead. Never to return. Be careful out there. and If you drop your cell phone in cheese dip it will die. Been there – done that. Evil mobile phone company said that was a first – even though I’d been a NEW customer with preferred treatment the week B4 – I was now an OLD customer with a phone dunked in cheese. No insurance – had to buy a new phone, full price. I was kind of planning to mock y’all for your dropsy tendencies, but to tell the truth, I can TOTALLY imagine dropping my phone in a cup of water or hot cocoa, so I won’t.
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I was wondering, does Fred’s business close for all the gov’t holidays because they do most of their work for the gov’t or is it normal for businesses in Alabama to be closed on the holidays? Yep, the only reason Fred has all those government holidays off is because they’re government contractors, and if the government offices are closed, there’s no work to be done. I think Fred would personally prefer to work on the government holidays and have odd holidays off – like St. Patrick’s Day or Valentine’s Day. Holidays when most other people are working.
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Robyn, just thought you might want to know that the free hellcat with every case of water has been extended to the West Coast. Since we’re a bunch of hippies out here, they’ve chosen to offer the special with cases of diet iced green tea. People, please be careful out there. You could end up with a whole herd of hellcats without even realizing it, and they’ll be thundering through the house while you sit there and say “But I just wanted some water! Wha’ happa?”
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That picture of Maxi is seriously one of the best/weirdest/most fascinating pictures I have ever seen of a cat, that wasn’t one of the Twisted Whiskers things. That’s awesome. What do you do to get those great angles, lie down on the floor or something? I am sad to report that all I do is lean down, hold out the camera and snap the picture, without even bothering to look and see what I’m getting. Sometimes they come out looking ridiculous, sometimes they come out pretty damn good. It’s a crapshoot. I particularly like this one, which was taken with the exact same half-assed technique:
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Do your doors swell up when you paint them? I tried to paint a bathroom door and the damn thing wouldn’t close right for 2 months after that. Not that I’ve noticed, but we haven’t been shutting the doors all that much yet. I’ll report back once I’m living there and closing the doors on a regular basis!
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Thats so funny because I do the same thing when I go to bed at night, I lay there with one eye open untill I fall asleep. Should I be concerned? and Hmmm… I do the same thing as Sugarbutt when I first wake up. Lay there with one eye closed. Should I be concerned? (That’s regarding this picture of Sugarbutt) I don’t think either of you should be concerned, unless it interferes with your life. Otherwise, as long as it’s not hurting anyone, go for it! (I, too, might sometimes lay around with one eye closed. I like to believe it means I’m actually catching a little more sleep, because I’m a dork.)
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Hey, I noticed on the link for the prescription food that it is not indicated for “lactating Queens”….hmmmmm I have never heard of cats being referred to as Queens. I am sure they don’t agree;in their minds they ARE Queens and Kings. What the heck does that mean? Any idea? I’ve actually never seen non-pregnant or lactating female cats referred to as “queens”, and only those because I was looking around online for something and ran across a cat-breeding website. I don’t care for the title of “queen” for female cats, but I also don’t care for title of “bitch” for female dogs (why can’t people just say “female”?). I don’t guess I get a vote, though!
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I’m trying not to hate you for being so good at renovating an entire HOUSE, floors, walls, moldings, and all – while I’m still trying to work up the energy to get the crap out of my living room (I will NOT shove it all back into the spare bedroom, no matter HOW tempted I am; it’ll sit in the living room creating a fire hazard until I get my ass in gear). No one should be at all hateful of the fact that we’ve gotten so much done in the new house. The ONLY reason we’ve managed to get so much done is because we’re not living there. I can guarantee that if we’d been actually living in the house these past several months, we would have been lucky to MAYBE get one wall of one room done. I am SO glad that we decided to get the renovating done before we moved in – for one, there is just no way on earth we could have dealt with having the floors done if we were living there. It would have been a huge clusterfuck and I would have taken one look at all the dust (from the sanding) left on our belongings and had a stroke.
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The floors look GREAT! I’m wondering if you are going to change out the kitchen cabinets so it will match the floors? The floor looks better than the cabinets. We’re eventually going to get new cabinets, I think (I kind of like the cabinets, but the doors on every single cabinet are hung so that one door is hanging lower than the other – they’re uneven and it drives me a tiny bit nuts), but since they’re something I’m willing to live with, we’re probably going to wait a few years before we do that.
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Is it just me, or do you think the spud looks like your sister? I’m not sure if you mean the spud looks like she could be my sister, or that she looks like my sister Debbie. I don’t think she looks like she could be my sister, because I think she looks her age (18) and I look mine (39) and I doubt anyone who hears that I’m her mother is like “Oh, you can’t be old enough to be her mother!”, seriously. She does resemble my sister Debbie, though, I’ll certainly agree with that.
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Now for the question – what other Podcast do you listen to? I’m a new Ipod owner – the 30 gig video one. I cannot recommend the Keith and the Girl podcasts enough – but you knew that, because I haven’t made any secret of the fact that I LOVE them. Aside from Keith and the Girl, I also listen to Spooky’s Spooky in the City podcasts – Spooky first showed up on Keith and the Girl, and now he’s got his own podcast (it’s like a spinoff) – and like them because I like Spooky’s voice, but the boy can go on. And on. And on. His eye for detail is a little unnerving, really. I also listen to the Grey’s Anatomy podcasts every week (Betsy Beers and Shonda Rimes crack me up – and I find Betsy Beers’s voice very soothing for some reason). Now this is where y’all come in. I’m about caught up on Keith and the Girl and Spooky, so I need podcast recommendations. Who do you listen to, and why? Leave me a comment and tell me who I should check out next!
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I had my hairs did yesterday. I went a little redder, and quite a bit shorter. In fact, I said “Why don’t you just cut it as short as you can without having to shave my neck?” and she said “Can I cut the back the way I want?” and I said “Hellz yes. Cut it ALL the way you want!”, and she did. It’s a bit helmet-y the way she styled it, but I like it. And I didn’t realize ’til I got in the shower this morning just how short I went. I really like it! Here’s how she styled it: And how I did: I guess not a huge difference, but it looks less helmet-y in my version, I think.
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Smilin’ Joe Bob. It doesn’t matter that there’s nothing on the plate, not a single crumb. He’ll lick it anyway. In an effort to clear off my memory stick, I uploaded a ton of pictures to Flickr this morning. You can see them here.
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Previously 2006: Second of all, we both hate our voices and to release them forth into the world would be a cruelty beyond measure. 2005: Impromptu day off. 2004: I’m going to save a fortune on tampons, that’s for sure. 2003: No entry. 2002: No entry. 2001: Damn that Sam’s. 2000: Heartless bastard.]]>

2/22/07

by @ Thursday, February 22nd, 2007. Filed under Life, New house

* * * The cats have been fucking nuts lately, hauling ass from one end of the house to the other, picking fights with each other, just generally being a pain in the ass. I don’t know if it’s the warmer weather, or the fact that it’s been really nice out and I won’t let them into the back yard (we don’t have a collar for Joe Bob, so I don’t dare to let them out. I’d hate to have to call the shelter manager and tell her I lost Joe Bob!) or what. I don’t mind the wildness during the day, but at night and in the early morning when I’m trying to sleep, it REALLY pisses me off. Yesterday morning I was trying to sleep in a little – something I haven’t done in a while, since I’m on this get-up-at-6 bullshit kick – and the cats were racing around and fighting and being a pain in the ass. I had to yell at them a couple of times, and then there was a period of silence, during which I started to fall back asleep. Suddenly, I heard the sound of a herd of elephants hauling ass through the house, then the bedroom door flew open, and I heard a weird squeaking sound. I opened my eyes, looked toward the closet, and saw the most amazing sight. Tommy was perched halfway up the doorway casing, just HANGING there. I’d never seen anything like it so I stared at him for a minute, then yelled “Tommy, what the hell?!”, whereupon he let go, fell to the floor and raced off. Boy, it sure is a good goddamn thing we put SoftPaws on his claws, isn’t it? I’d hate for him to be able to CLIMB things. Fucker. The SoftPaws don’t slow his stupid ass down at ALL. Last Thursday, because Joe Bob was at the vet’s, I let the cats into the back yard. Not only does Tommy have SoftPaws on his claws, he wears a collar that’s supposed to shock him if he gets too close to the fence. I was sitting on the couch watching TV when I happened to glance out the window in time to see Tommy run across the back yard as fast as he could (and he can move pretty fast for a portly cat), then run UP the tree by the shed, and begin climbing. I went out and coaxed him down – all the while, his collar was beeping, because Fred’s got the electric fence hiked up so the cats can’t, oh, CLIMB THE TREES or they’ll get zapped – and then not half an hour later the little fuckhead did it again. I coaxed him down, then made all the cats come inside and told them it was Tommy’s fault for being a fucking fucker. At least the SoftPaws keep the little bastard from scratching.

* * *
I spent another 10 hours out in Smallville yesterday, and all I got accomplished was to paint the trim in the upstairs bathroom, twice. The biggest pain in the ass about painting trim is having to do all the damn taping, and I used the blue painter’s tape instead of the masking tape. Naturally, when I pulled the blue tape up at the end of the day, paint from the wall came up with it. This has never been an issue when I’ve used masking tape, so I guess I need to go back to using that instead of the blue tape. Sad, really – I had such high hopes for the blue tape. I did get the switches and plugs in the hallway and downstairs bathroom replaced, too, but the day wasn’t a total waste. Actually, it wasn’t a waste at all – I got the bathroom trim painted, and (mostly) finished my bedroom closet, but I had hoped to get more done in the course of 10 hours. Speaking of my bedroom closet, some pictures. This is what I spent the ENTIRE weekend working on. You think it’s going to be a quick job, and those are the ones that always end up taking 63 times longer than it should. First, I had to tape the closet to protect the air intake vent thingy, because we wouldn’t want to get paint on THAT, hellz no. It’s not like it would just wipe up or anything! Actually, once I started covering it, I realized it was just like wrapping a present and wasn’t that hard to do. Unnecessary, maybe, but not hard. I also put several layers of paper down to protect the floor, which was a good damn thing. I was painting the ceiling and managed to knock the container of ceiling paint over. But because I’d put so much paper down, not a single drop got on the floor. Go, me! The top of the closet and the ceiling. The master bedroom was originally the dining room, so I imagine the entire room had this wallpaper border. The brown paper under the border is what the rest of the wall was covered in. I don’t know what the hell this paper was. I wouldn’t think it was wallpaper, but I kind of think it must have been. The previous owners didn’t put this on the wall, just left it there. Looking up at the shelf. The brown wall is that wallpaper stuff; the wall to the right is just drywall (the previous owners had to create a closet in the bedroom, so used drywall). So, I thought all I’d need to do was paint the ceiling and then paint the walls of the closet. I didn’t know what the brown paper was, but thought it could surely be painted over. I got the ceiling – which was covered with white paper – painted, and it almost immediately started to peel. Then I painted the walls of the closet, and the brown paper softened and started to peel as well. Obviously, just painting over the paper wasn’t going to work. I started pulling the paper away, and was surprised (though I shouldn’t have been) to find lovely wooden walls under there. And that’s how I spent the entire three-day weekend – first I had to scrape the brown paper off the walls and the white paper off the ceiling. I found this wallpaper on the ceiling. Yes, wallpaper on the ceiling. I don’t know, don’t ask me. So anyway, I scraped the brown paper off the walls and the white paper off the ceiling, which left a lot of brown crap all over the walls, so I had to go back, wet down the brown crap, scrape it off, then go back again and scrub the walls with a green scrubby thing. Partly finished. I’m completely finished now (forgot to take an “after” picture), and the back and left wall and ceiling of the closet is comprised of this lovely wood. Fred suggested that I just paint over it, but I like the bare wood. Yesterday, I painted the dry wall portion of the closet (the right wall and the inside of the front wall) the light silvery purple that the top part of my bedroom is painted. Now all we have to do is stain some corner pieces and put them up, then put some trim around the bottom of the closet (I actually painted some wood when I was painting the closet originally, because the brown paper didn’t go all the way to the bottom of the wall), hang some shelves, and we’ll be done! I think it took me longer to get the closet done than it took Fred to do the entire damn room. But it’s a fine-looking closet, I’ll tell you that! We made a fire in the dining room fireplace not once, but twice this weekend. My jacket and my purse still smell like smoke from the fire (it was very windy this weekend). I’m doing my best to convince Fred that we should get a pellet stove for the dining room, because my parents got a pellet stove recently, and have nothing but good things to say about it. I’m not sure how successful I’ll be at convincing him, but I’m going to keep trying!
* * *
You’ve all asked a lot of questions in the comments lately, so I’ll be answering those in tomorrow’s entry. If you’ve got any burning questions to ask, now’s the time!
* * *
I haven’t yet had a chance to peruse my US Magazine this week, so I don’t know what the complete story will be, but I’ll say this: If Justin Timberlake and K. Fuckhead really and truly got together to mock Britney, I think they’re a couple of complete and utter assholes. Talk about kicking someone when they’re down – that girl is spinning out of control in the most public way possible, and they’re getting together to make fun of her? Such classy guys. I’ve always thought Kevin Federline was a weaselly little no-good user, but now I’m finding I have no fondness for Justin either. Jackasses. Note: It’s not like I’m a big Britney fan, but I’ve liked some of her music and I think she’s adorable and I cannot help but feel bad for a girl who is so clearly in a lot of emotional pain and going under for the third time. To have her first love and her soon-to-be ex-husband being PALS and getting together to talk shit about her can only be tossing kerosene on the fire.
* * *
Hey. Did you know that if you join the National Arbor Day Foundation for $10 for 6 months or $15 for a year, you get 10 free trees? We’re getting the flowering trees.
* * *
HATE. Smackdown at the Anderson Corral. Smackdown in progress (though it petered out when Tommy wandered off.)
* * *
Previously 2006: HOT MONKEY SEX, that’s what. 2005: I can tell you this – I’m not terribly fond of my mailman right now. 2004: No entry. 2003: No entry. 2002: Not bad, since it’s been ten years or so since I read the play, eh? 2001: Resolutions for 2001. 2000: Well, apparently “coke” sounded like “coffee” to the Einstein taking my order.]]>

2/21/07

by @ Wednesday, February 21st, 2007. Filed under Life

Liz, who suggested it. I think it fits pretty well! Thanks also for the case suggestions – I’m going to look them over and see what I like before I actually order anything. And because I am a boor, I slapped BobPod’s cold dead corpse up on eBay. I’m curious to see if anyone will actually bid on it. Other things are up for sale on eBay too, if you’re interested in bras or camcorders that don’t work.

* * *
This is not an entry, but it’s going to have to suffice as one. I’m about to head out to Smallville to spend the day painting and doing other things around the house (I’m hoping to get some sunshine this afternoon so I can see well enough to switch out outlets and switches (yeah, that entry will be coming one of these days!)). I’ll be back tomorrow with a real entry – promise!
* * *
“She keeps abandoning us for that other house and those other cats. Let’s pee in her bed, Suggie!”
* * *
Previously 2006: Holy hot dog! That’s a good freakin’ show! 2005: Questions answered. 2004: No entry. 2003: “Why, god? Whyyyyy?” 2002: He was in the room with me for less than 90 seconds. Was I happy? Oh, yes. Thrilled. 2001: I don’t know about that man… 2000: New vehicle.

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2/20/07

by @ Tuesday, February 20th, 2007. Filed under Life

(In case you were wanting to find a good place to send some of that tax refund money!)
* * *
So let’s see… where did I leave off? Oh yeah, my whining and moaning about BobPod and his state of brain-deadness. Several people recommended that I try taking BobPod to the Apple store and see if they could fix him up, and since there’s one in Huntsville, I decided to do just that. On my way, I stopped at a different T-M0bile store – one that was on the way to the Apple store – to see if they could figure out why I could take pictures, but not send them to anyone. Fred had called T-M0bile customer service the night before to add me to the account so that I could do things like ask T-M0bile store employees for help and not get the “Sorry, it’s NOT your account!” bullshit. The guy at T-M0bile messed with my phone for a few minutes then told me that since it was a European model, he couldn’t figure out what was going on, and I’d have to call the tech support number. He said it in a helpful way, even writing down what to tell them he’d already done so they wouldn’t have me try to do it again. I called Fred to let him know what they’d said at T-M0bile, because I was certain he was on the edge of his seat with the sheer excitement of my cell phone issues. “Have they called about Joe Bob?” he asked. “No, I don’t expect them to unless there’s a problem,” I said. “Call and see how he’s doing!” “Okay. Then I’m going to Apple and see if they can fix BobPod.” “Okay. Good luck with that.” I headed straight to the Apple store, walked in, and told the guy working at the… something or other desk (I don’t remember what the hell it said, but he was using a screwdriver to open a laptop, so I figured he worked there and might know what he was doing) that I thought I’d killed my iPod. He tried resetting it and I hoped he’d have better luck than I did. He didn’t. He took it over and hooked it up to a computer and tried to reset it from there, but had no luck with that, either. He kept shaking the iPod and holding it up to his ear. (I think it was the iPod Doctor way of listening for sounds of breathing.) Finally, he handed it back to me, and shook his head. “Yeah, it’s dead,” he said. “WHY? WHY? WHYYYYYYYYY? OH BOBPOD COME BACK TO ME!” I screamed falling to my knees in the middle of the store. (Just kidding.) “Well, damn,” I said ruefully. “Thanks for trying.” “The hard drive’s not even (doing whatever the fuck hard drives are supposed to do. I guess no one ever told this guy that iPods run by MAGIC, not HARD DRIVES, for god’s sake.),” he said. “It’s pretty dead.” He went on to mention that the newer iPods didn’t have hard drives (because they gave up the pretense that iPods run on something other than MAGIC) and I thanked him again and headed out to my car. I called Fred. “Hey,” I said despondently. “He’s dead.” Fred gasped sharply. Wow, I thought. He’s really taking this to heart! I didn’t think he cared about BobPod! “Oh my god!” he said, sounding like he might cry. Wow, I thought. He’s REALLY taking this seriously! “Joe Bob is DEAD?” he said. “What?” I said in horror. “NO! NOT JOE BOB! BobPod!” “Jesus Christ, don’t do that to me!” he said, and I could just imagine him reeling around clutching at his chest. After I’d apologized a hundred times, I told him again that BobPod was dead. “You know,” I said. “If we sign up for another two years with T-M0bile, I could get a Razr that plays mp3s for a hundred bucks!” We talked about it for a few minutes, and then I headed for T-M0bile again. In short order, I had a brand-spankin’ new Razr V3i in my purse and was heading home. Once home I fiddled around with the phone for a while, then started uploading a couple of Keith and the Girl podcasts onto the phone. Which is when I hit my first problem – I could only get one podcast onto the phone before I ran out of space. Considering I can go through six or seven podcasts on the weekends when we’re working on the house, this wasn’t good. Then I listened to the podcast I’d uploaded, and we ran into problem #2. The sound quality sucked. I called Fred and told him I was returning the phone and he sighed and rolled his eyes and said “Whateverrrrrrrrr.” I went to the store in Madison – since it was closer – and exchanged the phone for a Razr v3 (the non-European model). I’m possibly having too much fun snapping pictures of the cats and setting them as wallpaper. From there I headed out to Smallville to work on the house, and it was sad and quiet and very lonely, working without a podcast to keep me entertained. When I got home a few hours later, (after I picked Joe Bob up at the pet store – and he was just fine, not a crystal to be seen in his urine, and instructions to finish out his medication and keep him on the prescription food), I found evidence sitting on my desk that someone loves me very, very much. Meet the new Bawb, same as the old Bob (only much, much better). I’m calling him BawbPod for the time being until I come up with something I like more (suggestions welcome!). He’s a generation 5.5 80GB video iPod ( ::Tim Allen grunt here :: ), and though you can’t tell from the picture I’ve taken, due to the flash, the picture quality is outstanding. I’m terrified I’m going to drop him, so I’ve been carrying him around in my pocket until I get around to buying a case for him. Thank you, someone who really, really loves me. I really, really loves you too.
* * *
Hey, between the new phone and the new iPod, I don’t guess I’ll be needing one of those iPhones after all, will I?
* * *
Some women get candy and flowers. I get romantic notes in the dust on the floor. Awwww. Maxi through the front door. Not ten minutes after Fred complained about the cats not appreciating the house he’d built for them, Newt was hanging out in it. It’s like he heard! Hate.
* * *
Previously 2006: But I’m afraid that now it’s tasted human blood, it’s going to require a periodic human sacrifice. 2005: No entry. 2004: The Bean appeared before me, eyes wide and dark, a sad little I’m a poor kitty who has lost his way look on his face. 2003: They freaked out. 2002: Um. In yesterday’s entry, I MEANT to link to Fred with the words “nice butt”, not MYSELF. 2001: We got proof today that we, in fact, do not have two gay hamsters. 2000: No entry.]]>

2/19/07

by @ Monday, February 19th, 2007. Filed under Life, New house

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2/16/07

by @ Friday, February 16th, 2007. Filed under Fostering, Life, TV

peritoneal lavage*, I got very confused. Turns out I was mixing up theperitoneum and the perineum and couldn’t figure out why they’d need to do THAT. (I did know what “lavage” was, though – washing something out. Just call me Robyn And3rson, GMD**.) 3. That little speech Izzy gave? I’m sorry, no. It was self-serving crap and I think George should have slapped the fuck out of her. The attitude she has toward Callie just annoys the motherfucking fuck out of me and makes her look like a spoiled bitchy bitch and it drives me nuts. NUTS, I SAY. 4. You think after this year lightbulbs are going to pop on over everyone’s head and people are going to start avoiding Meredith in February (see last year re: bomb killing the very hot hot hottie Kyle Chandler (whom I will always think of as the very hot hot hottie Jeff from Homefront, hmmm. Kyle Chandler playing two hot hot hotties. What are the chances? He’s typecast!) bomb guy)? Or will it take one more year? *Upon reading about what exactly a peritoneal lavage entails, I do not believe it was indicated in this instance, and was just Addison throwing around big words trying to impress us. I love Addison, but NOT IMPRESSED, Dr. Montgomery. Step aside and let Dr. Robyn slap some life back into that milquetoast annoyance they call Meredith Grey in this strange TV land of apparently blind men who cannot stop drooling over her for some (“Rescue me! I’m a sad little practically-orphaned waif, adrift in this cold, cruel world, wahhh! Save me! Pity me!”) reason. **Google MD, of course.

* * *
Remember when I was going to make a .wav for y’all of me imitating what Myrtle sounded like when she went into Hellbeast mode? Well, I taped myself imitating her, but I can’t get the camera to let me download what I taped (I need to download drivers or something), so in the meantime, here’s pretty much what she sounded like, courtesy of reader Debbie, who sent me the link. Myrtle maybe didn’t do it for quite so long, but the ferocity and the creepiness (imagine sitting at your desk in a silent house and hearing something like that!) are strikingly similar.
* * *
BobPod continues to hang on, kind of. I tried all the stuff y’all suggested (except for the banging it against something, which I’m saving for the very last thing to try) and nada. When I hook BobPod to the computer, iPod doesn’t “see” him and BobPod just sits there with the Apple logo staring sadly up at me. I think he might be brain dead. I keep hoping he might come back to life on his own, but I don’t see that happening. I guess I’m going to see about taking him to the Apple store and see if they can fix his sorry little ass. Come back to me, BobPod. I NEEEEEEED YOU!
* * *
I left the house a few minutes after 8 yesterday morning and didn’t get back home until almost noon. First I had to drive out almost to the Tennessee border to drop Joe Bob off at the vet. Joe Bob wasn’t thrilled with that, but he did give me the Love Eyes when I stuck my finger in the carrier (more on how I got him INTO the carrier in a minute), so hopefully he’ll forgive me. Then I drove back to Madison to hit the T-Mobile store, because although my cell phone has a camera in it and I can take pictures with it, if I try to email or send the pictures anywhere, I get an error message. I didn’t get the phone from T-Mobile, so I guess there’s something they have to do to make it work? I don’t know. Anyway, I walked in and had to wait and wait and wait until the two salespeople were done doing whatever they were doing, and I gave the one saleswoman my cell phone number, and then she told me they couldn’t do anything without Fred’s authorization, since the account is in his name. And we will be rectifying THAT little situation tout-de-fucking-suite, believe you me. So I left there and went over to Lowe’s to look at their cleaning stuff, because I had hoped there’d be something in the cleaning aisle that would take paint off windows and mirrors with no elbow grease from me. I didn’t find anything that fit the bill, but I did find other things I desperately needed, so I bought ’em. From there, I went to the post office to drop off some packages and pick up the mail, then over to Wal-Mart to do a little looking around. The clothes I’ve been wearing out at the new house to paint and clean in have gotten absolutely coated with paint, and there are holes in the ass of the pants, so I wanted to buy some cheap clothes to replace them. A bunch of winter clothes were on sale for $5, so I ended up with a pair of pants, a snarky t-shirt (“I’ll be nicer if you’ll be smarter”) and a flannel shirt to wear over it for less than $20. Woot! From there I went home, chilled out, and spent most of the rest of the day surfing the web and looking sadly at BobPod. A day well spent, I say.
* * *
So before Joe Bob and I left the house, I naturally needed to get him into the carrier. Joe Bob has himself a very strong go-limp instinct when you grab him by the scruff of the neck, so I knew all I needed to do was grab him and lower him into the carrier. I got up from my desk and went to see where he was. He happened to be walking down the hallway where the cat carrier was sitting (the goddamn things are laying everywhere in this house), so I opened the top of the carrier and turned around to grab him. No fool he, Joe Bob went flying into the living room and hid behind the TV. I used a feather toy to try to coax him out, with no luck, and I tried to lure him out with a laser pointer, and he was not to be lured. Finally, I decided to pull out the big guns, and reeled around the house screeching “Snack Time! Who’s ready for the Snack Time! Snack Time, Boogie!” The cats, who are accustomed to Fred handing out Snack Time, ran in fear from the screeching and were only brought back into the kitchen by the smell of the pouch of treats opening and being dumped onto a plate. The other cats settled in to Snackin’ Time, but Joe Bob was no fool, and he stayed behind the TV until I realized that my hovering above the Snackin’ Time plate was far too obvious, and so I wandered off to get a few tasks done. When I walked back into the kitchen, Joe Bob was bellied up to the Snackin’ Time plate and just starting to eat. I grabbed him up, carried him into the hallway, and put him into the carrier with nary a fight. “But I don’t wanna be in the carrier!” Joe Bob protested, and I lifted up the carrier, speaking soothingly to him as I did so. And then he darted out the front door of the carrier. Because why would it occur to me to check to be sure that the front door was closed? THAT WOULD MAKE SENSE, STUPID. Joe Bob went hauling ass up the stairs, and I stomped and cursed, and then went up after him. Conveniently, he’d run into the master bedroom, so I closed the door and chased him around the room for a few minutes before he went flying into the bathroom to hide in the tub. I shut the bathroom door and chased him back and forth a few times (not easy in a fairly small bathroom, yet somehow we managed it) before he huddled behind the toilet, believing I couldn’t see him, and I grabbed him up and carried him to the carrier. He made one feeble attempt at getting away – he pushed at the carrier with one of his big rabbit-like back feet – but since I had him by the scruff of the neck, I got him in there carrier pretty easily. He didn’t utter a peep on the way to the vet’s office. I guess he didn’t get the Hellbeast gene his sister got.
* * *
I tried to convince Fred that we should flip this house, but he thinks it’s too small. Hmph.
* * *
Smackdown! Spot and the Eyes of Lurve. He’s IN the basket, but he’s not HAPPY about it. Hatin’ you.
* * *
Previously 2006: So, in summary, if we are to judge all female cats by Miz Poo, then male cats are nicer, but female cats are clingier. 2005: Don’t you wish I was responsible for your books? 2004: I WANT TO FUCKING KNOW WHAT HE SAID. 2003: No entry. 2002: No entry. 2001.: And almost wet my pants in terror. 2000: So, the nausea continues.]]>

2/15/07

by @ Thursday, February 15th, 2007. Filed under Fostering, Life, New house

Help Save Rhys From Dying Of Boredom On The PCT!!! Y’all are readers, I know you are. What better to do with your paperbacks than pass them along to a crazy hiking woman? If you want to help, check it out!

* * *
I am a murderer. I HAVE KILLED. BobPod, may you rest in peace. I dropped my goddamn iPod while I was at the house yesterday (a sign that the house does not appreciate Keith and the Girl, obviously), and it froze up, and it’s still frozen and nothing I try will get it unfrozen, it’s all frozen up with my KATG goodness locked inside, and I am panicked at the idea of (1) working on the house or (2) exercising without my BobPod. Why, BobPod? WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY? Why have you left me, forlorn and battered, to face this dark world without you? Was it something I did? (“Yes, you stupid bitch, you DROPPED ME, and it wasn’t the first time!”) Please come back to me, BobPod. PLEEEEEEEASE! Any suggestions would be very much appreciated. I cannot spend another 10-hour day at the house without podcasts to listen to, for I will be driven mad without something to take my mind off the tedium of the cleaning and painting and painting and painting and painting some more. HELP ME.
* * *
So I spent a total of 11 hours at the house yesterday. I got there at 7:30, hoping to get the upper half of the upstairs bathroom painted before the insulation guys arrived (not that I expected they would actually ever really show up), but I realized that I had to do something to protect the lower half of the bathroom from the paint I’d be slinging around as I painted the upper half (note to self: when painting a room two different colors, paint the upper half first next time, dummy), so I took the roll of contractor paper we bought at Lowe’s over the weekend, pulled off thick strips of it, and taped it over the lower half of the bathroom where I’d already painted, and over the freshly tiled shower. I was almost done with the bathroom when the insulation guys showed up. After I was done reeling around the house in shock that the guys had shown up, I showed them where the attic accesses were, and then went downstairs to stay out of the way. I did some painting (and I’d show you what I painted, because it’s too hard to explain, but I am a dumbass who forgot to take her camera with her OF COURSE on a day when there were many things to take pictures of, DAMNIT) and when I was done with my painting an hour later, the insulation guys had come to the conclusion that the “broken” truck was still broken (the truck itself was working, but the part that blows insulation through the big tubes was busted), and that “the boss” had another truck in the area doing other jobs and would try to get them out to the house at some point during the day. I said goodbye to the insulation guys, then went off to eat breakfast and then call my parents, who are in Florida this week, and then went upstairs to start painting the bathroom. Painting the bathroom was a humongous pain in the motherfucking ass. The lower part of the bathroom is composed of beadboard with the lines going vertically, and it wasn’t too much of a pain to paint. The upper half, however, is beadboard with the lines going horizontally, and it was a humongous pain to get the paint in the lines. I had to push really hard on the roller to get the paint to go in the lines, and once I was done doing that with the roller I had to go back over the walls with a brush and get all the spots I had missed. By lunchtime, though, I had gotten two coats of paint on the wall, and decided it looked good enough to leave for the time being. I figured once Fred had the lights installed in that room (I did the whole freakin’ paint job with just the light coming in through the window) I’d go back over the wall with a paint brush and touch up what I’d missed. I decided to hit Sonic for a salad for lunch, grabbed my purse, and headed out the front door. When I walked out the front door, I got a lovely, lovely surprise. Actually, I got a couple of lovely surprises. The first lovely surprise was that there was a fucking DRIFT of insulation across the front and side yards. Apparently what the insulation guys (part one) had done to determine that their truck wasn’t operating properly was to blow fucking insulation all over the yard, then leave without cleaning it the fuck up. I called Fred and bitched at him about it, and he told me he was going to go raise some hell. The second lovely, lovely surprise – after I talked to Fred – was that Maxi was slinking back and forth on the front porch, howling, and when I walked out the door, she excitedly led me to the rocking chair I usually sit in (when it’s not so goddamn cold), underneath which lay a dead mole. And in front of the rocking chair? A mouse head. Just the head, no other body parts. Maxi must REALLY love me, that’s all I have to say about that. Cold-blooded murderer. Just like ME. I went to Sonic, got my salad, got home, ate my salad, did a little reading (What? I don’t deserve a damn break? YES I DO.) and was about to go back upstairs to tape off the bathroom and paint the trim when Fred called to let me know that the insulation guys were on the way. I went upstairs to pull down the contractor paper I’d left taped to the wall, and was just about done with that when the tile guy showed up. I got out of his way and went downstairs to putty the holes in the shoe molding (ie, quarter-round) Fred had put down on Tuesday. I hadn’t been doing that for long when the insulation guys (part two) showed up. Apparently they hadn’t been informed by the insulation guys (part one) that there was a drift of insulation in the front yard, and they were appropriately aghast that anyone would leave something like that behind. And for the first time in my life when someone profusely apologized, I didn’t say “No, it’s okay!”, because I was rawwwwther ticked off about the whole damn thing. I did, however, graciously say “I appreciate that” when they promised they’d clean up the mess. So I was puttying more shoe molding when one of the insulation guys – I told my sister he looked like Jay from Clerks, but on second look, he really bore more of a resemblance to Tommy Lee (just the face, pervs. I didn’t get a chance – or have the desire – to inquire after further resemblance.) – asked if there was a restroom he could use. I pointed him to it, and he said “Is there tissue in there?” Oh boy. “There sure is,” I said with a smile, then beat it out of there and went to the kitchen (ie, far away from the bathroom) to text my sister that a workman was stankin’ up the joint. See, this is how nice I am. I was working in the computer room, and the bathroom is right off the computer room. I didn’t want Tommy Lee to feel all SELF-CONSCIOUS about stankin’ up my bathroom, so I went a few rooms away so as to make the experience more pleasing for him. And then when I went into the computer room and was about knocked over from the ROTTING STENCH OF A THOUSAND DEAD PEOPLE coming from the bathroom, I wanted to go get a box of matches and light them ALL, but I didn’t want to make him FEEL BAD about the stench he’d left behind, so I covered my nose with my shirt and tried my best to ignore the smell. Until I couldn’t stand it anymore, and went and got the matches, and lit about a hundred of them. (A hundred, or three. One or the other. WHATEVER.) Finally, Fred showed up and I could relax, because when he’d called to tell me that the insulation guys (part two) were on the way, he’d also told me to not pay them until they’d talked to the salesguy, who’d promised that either the guys would clean up the mess, or we’d get a discount on the service. This way, he could deal with the whole messy paying-the-guys stuff, and I could wander off and do mind-numbing tasks that desperately needed doing. Though the insulation guys did an admirable job of attempting to clean up the mess left behind by the first set of guys, they weren’t able to really clean it all up (I think they would have needed some sort of vacuum for that), and so Fred gave the salesguy a call and let him know how very unhappy he was with the whole experience. Fred, who is a genius, has learned that if you express your displeasure with a service, and then keep silent while the man in charge babbles nervously, in the end they’ll generally offer something you want. In this case, we got a 25% discount on the cost of the insulation installation. Happy Valentine’s Day to me!!! Once the insulation guys left, we put up the crown molding in the downstairs bathroom, then Fred went around and measured and cut shoe molding for the front room and kitchen. We ate dinner in there somewhere, and finally left around 6:30. I am NOT going out to the house today, but do have to run Joe Bob to the vet because he’s still straining to pee (though I don’t think he’s blocked, because he’s not distressed, plus he’s actually peeing a tiny bit every time he tries) and after five days of being on Clavam0x and the special food, he should be doing better. I’m dropping him off at the vet for observation and so they can figure out what the hell is going on, and will get him back tomorrow evening.
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It’s pretty much looking like we’re very close to being done with the renovations, and will be moving me and the cats out to Smallville the first weekend in March, or thereabouts. Can you believe it? FINALLY.
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My Valentine’s Day was… well, it was pretty much like any other day, because we don’t really go all out for the occasion. I picked up a card and some Dove chocolates for him (dark chocolate, because he loves dark chocolate and I hate it and thus won’t eat it). He gave me a card and a single-serving bag of peanut M&Ms (I ate a few and tossed the rest). Maybe next year we’ll go out to eat or have a date night for Valentine’s Day, but I kinda doubt it – and I’m okay with that. He spoils me rotten 365.25 days a year; I don’t need to be extra spoiled on this particular day.
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Warning: Cat cannot hold his licker. (Several more Booger pics, here)
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Previously 2006: I suspect the latter, personally. Fuckers. 2005: Collab 2004: No entry. 2003: No entry. 2002: William Fichtner is a hottie. 2001: I hope I’m not doing serious damage to myself, but if you saw how clean the showers get, you’d know how much it’s worth it. 2000: I highly recommend a warm, purring kitten laying against you when you’re feeling nauseous.]]>

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