Friday, August 29, 2008
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Seven Deadly Memes
Way back in April, Suzie tagged me for the seven random things meme. Because I suck and have the memory of a gnat for things I don't write down, I totally spaced it until just a few minutes ago, when I had to stare quizzically at my blogroll and try to remember who had tagged me and how long ago.
I've been tagged for this one before, but it's been a while, so I figured I could surely come up with some more random things to share. Not that I have anything as cool as Suzie's story about finding a human skull. No, seriously.
1. I have never seen The Wizard of Oz or The Sound of Music all the way through.
2. I talked to a woman on the phone today (at work) who wanted to know if there was anyone on staff who could tell her what kind of fossil she had found. She was pretty sure it was a fossilized sna ke head with sn ake skin just under the surface (highly unlikely), and wanted to know if we knew of anyone who would do DNA testing. On the fossil. Which is A ROCK. This actually was not the weirdest at-work request I've received. (I'm spacing "sn ake" out funny because I really don't want her to google her fossil and find me)
3. Things I don't like to eat / drink: broccoli, lemons, potatoes, shrimp, lobster, steak, coffee, beer, wine
4. I read pretty much all the time. If there's even a smidge of a chance that I'll be waiting somewhere, I take a book. If I don't have a book, I'll read whatever I can get my hands on, including product boxes.
5. I had a roommate in college who always matched her underwear to her shirt. Even though no one else would see it, if she went to put on her shirt and couldn't find one to match her underwear, she'd change her underwear. To this day, if I go to the bathroom and discover that I've inadvertently matched my knickers to my shirt, I think fondly of her.
6. I used to think I was going to go to grad school and get a masters degree in ecosystem rehabilitation. I still think it's a ridiculously cool field, but I'm kind of glad I didn't do it.
7. Even though I like birds in general, and am fond of them on principle, I prefer them to be over there, away from me. If a bird gets within a few feet of me, I can pretty much guarantee I'm going to be freaked out.
If you have random things to share, please consider yourself tagged (and drop me a comment or email so I can read your meme!). Thanks again, Suzie. Sorry it took me so long to get to this!
Monday, August 25, 2008
It's not just me
So, a few weeks ago, MB and I were watching Burn Notice and this commercial came on:
I was ready to swear that at the end, the dude said "extraordinary nutsack." And I? Laughed like a twelve year old boy. I was also impressed with their...erm...balls.
However, it appears I was mistaken. They said "nutSNack," but it seems I wasn't the only one who heard it wrong, because they've since changed the slogan to "an extraordinary snack."
Oh, True North. If only you'd had the guts to go for it.
(But I'm glad I'm not the only half-deaf pervert in the world.)
(And seriously, is anyone else watching Burn Notice? We weren't sure about it at first when it started last summer, but now we're hooked. It's funny and badass and how can you go wrong with Bruce Campbell? And then, there's this:
Okay, I'll stop. But seriously. YUM.)
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Part of the reason I've been such a lame blogger this week is that I've been downright domestic. For me, anyway. Shut up. I started with the mountain of laundry created by my trip + me telling MB not to wash his own clothes while I was gone. (There's a specific and somewhat tedious process that must be followed to avoid the sleeves of his work shirts becoming too short. Preshrunk cotton, my ass.) Once that was done, I went through the piles of mail that MB had stuffed in the buffet to await my return.
I baked zucchini bread and cucumber bread and experimental bread of several kinds, washed epic amounts of dishes (twice). I rinsed out wine bottles for recycling. I swept and Swiffered the floors. But none of it, not even the dishwashing, was quite as mesmerizing and horrifying as cleaning out the fridge:
First up, a small tub of soggy rice and flecks of ground beef, left over from a brief spell of unhappy dog belly last month. Green level. Not too bad. Oogh. This spaghetti is about two weeks old, and it wasn't that awesome to begin with. No mold, though. Still green level.
Okay, those cucumber slices are pretty grody. Aren't they supposed to be white? They look sorta gray. And brown. Blech. Blue level.
Two-week-old nacho cheese does bad, bad things if left to its own devices. Definitely yellow level, even though the cheese isn't quite yellow anymore. Could be nastier...the single worst thing I have ever pulled out of a fridge was a container of months-old Tostitos salsa con queso masquerading as paving tar. I'm pretty sure there were budding civilizations in that jar.
Wait...when did I make chicken cheese dip? Oh, dude. It looks like there's bits of salmon in here. But there isn't any salmon. Just creepily salmon-colored things. Growing. Orange alert, in more ways than one.
And then...then, my friends, I found the pièce de résistance: a tub of potato and cheese soup so gnarly that I actually thought about taking a picture of it before I dumped it out. This soup, I swear to you, was mere days away from evolving intelligent life. This soup was poised to make its move. Naturally, because I am such a superstar, as I was preparing to scrape the truly primordial soup into the garbage, I dropped the dish. Into the trashcan. Which was full of previous horrors. And I had to get it back out. With my hand. RED ALERT OMFG NEED PURELL STAT. If I start shuffling slowly around and craving brains, please tell my loved ones it was the soup that did it.
Reading: Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver, Hurry Down Sunshine by Michael Greenberg
Playing: slightly embarrassing 80s / 90s mixes
Friday, August 22, 2008
I keep planning to write about my trip, or about the things I found when I cleaned out the fridge the other night, but instead it's going to be another photo post.
I went out with Evilducky and Teacher Incognito this evening, and scored some pretty sweet deals.
At Target, I almost bought Indy a set of black and red lamé bat wings, but decided to hold out. I couldn't find a picture of them online, but saw these two costumes, one bizarre and one ridiculously awesome:
I dunno...I think I'll hold out for an Indiana Jones fedora.
I did buy this miniature working trebuchet, a steal at only $4.99:
I'm going to give it to my officemate, who was thinking about building a pumpkin catapult for Halloween for work, but didn't have time over the summer to get it approved and budgeted. I'm holding out hope that he'll go for it next year. And how awesome is my job that when my officemate said, "I want to build a pumpkin catapult" our supervisor said, "Go for it"?
After Macduff decided he'd had enough shopping for one night and headed off for home with his mama incognito, Evilducky and I went to Kohl's to check out the clearance selection.
I got these super cute shoes:
I got a few super early Christmas gifts for people, but since the people in question read this blog, I can't tell you what I got. Pretty good stuff, though!
And then, since we have actually and finally chosen the date after which we will no longer be preventing / will begin trying for kidlets (No, I'm not saying when. No, it's not this year), I bought some very cute baby outfits:
I also got some cute (cheap, cheap) stuff at an outlet mall on my way back from my vacation, so if you want to see more spawn clothes, click the photo below. Otherwise, consider yourself spared. And tomorrow, I'll try extra hard to save time to write about the fridge.
Reading: Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver, The Used World by Haven Kimmel
Playing: an embarrassingly cheesy mix of songs from my childhood
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Pecked to death by ducks
I once heard author Tim Cahill explain the title of one of his books, Pecked to Death by Ducks. He said his friends were all harassing him about what the book was to be called, until finally he said, "Gah! [well, you know...more or less] Enough! I feel like I'm being pecked to death by ducks!"
I totally grokked the meaning of the phrase yesterday afternoon. We had a long meeting for most of the day at work, and then I had three hours and about thirty small items on a very long to-do list that needed to be dealt with. "I feel," I thought suddenly, "like I'm being pecked to death by ducks."
At home, I felt about the same way. Vacation was great, and I still hope to write something about it soon, but when I got home I figured I'd take a day to relax. That day turned into two, and then the ducks and the pecking.
Meanwhile, my garden looks like this:
I'm catching up with this guy, who still wants to pound the dog's face:
I love this guy ridiculously, even though last night he emitted a poot that smelled exactly like a skunk:
And BoMB loaned me his semi-fancy camera, which means I'm running around doing this instead of blogging:
Oh, and the Olympics were on. Not helpful!
I'll try to do better soon. Meanwhile, here are some cute shirts I got last night:
Reading: Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver, The Used World by Haven Kimmel
Playing: various mix CDs
Friday, August 15, 2008
When we bought our house, my mom told me that I could have her piano to trade in toward a new one. I told her I didn't want a new one, I wanted the one I've played all my life. Today, finally, the piano moved in:
It's not really in tune, and I don't know for sure if every piano actually sounds different, but when I played it after the movers left, I couldn't imagine playing anything else. I'm not a really mushy person, but I nearly teared up with happiness when I heard this sound from my childhood in my own house. Cheesy, I know, but it is what it is.
So what do you say, J-Dog...want to pick a song to play together at Thanksmas this year? I should have plenty of time to practice.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Friday, August 08, 2008
It's on like Donkey Kong
In a scant 7 hours (OMG I need to go to bed NOW), I will be setting out on my mini road trip to Ohio. I am suuuuuuuuuper excited, and a little antsy that I'm forgetting to pack something really important.
While I'm on the road, I'm also going to be participating in a traveling journal project. I am preparing to embarrass myself by taking snapshots of a tiny plastic monkey having adventures across three states.
I'm ridiculously excited about the friends I will see on my trip, though I know I am going to miss my rotten pets, and my mostly non-rotten husband. I met said husband eight years ago yesterday and married him four years ago yesterday. I wouldn't trade him for anything. Love x 3 to FP from ST!
I'll be toting my laptop along to the hotel, but most likely will not have much time to hit my Google reader or comment on blogs, so please don't think I've callously abandoned you if you don't see me around over the next week or so! And, embarrassingly, I'll be attempting to keep up a play-by-play of the trip on Twitter.
Peace out, and talk to you soon!
Monday, August 04, 2008
My day, by velocibadgergirl, age 27
6 AM: Brand new day! Tra la, tra lee! Air conditioner might get fixed today! Walk the dog! Finish the laundry! Oh, happy morning!
8 AM: Out of shower. Aiee! 8 AM! Dishwasher guy could be here at any moment. Must find pants!
9 AM: Plumber also on the way, to find out why sump pump overflows every time we use the washing machine.
9:30 AM: AC man will be here this afternoon! Hallelujah!
10:30 AM: Plumber is here. Hooray! Oh, wait. So is dishwasher man. Whoops. Hope they don't mind.
11 AM: New sump pump installed. Dishwasher man perplexed by whackass installation done by previous owners. I can only shrug and try really hard not to see his asscrack. Dude. The plumber kept his out of sight. Do the same.
11:15 AM: Cat moseys into kitchen. Dishwasher man notes presence of cat. I note string of poop on cat's butt. Hope fervently that dishwasher man does not notice that my cat is unclean. (See how I didn't make a dirty pussy joke here? OH, wait.)
11:30 AM: Foolishly assume dishwasher man closed gate when he left. Let dog out to pee. Chase dog down utility easement, keeping voice cheery while thinking OHMYGOD OHSHIT OHNO OHNO OHNO. Drag dog back to yard. Feel like a huge asshole for almost losing the best dog in the whole wide world.
11:35 AM: Track down cat to wipe poop string off ass. Find that cat's ENTIRE ass is covered in poo. Cat has shit his fluffy knickers. Wail. Lock cat in office. Wail some more.
12 PM: Hot! Grah! No AC! Pissy! Lunch of turkey bacon and toaster waffle.
1:30 PM: AC man arrives. YAY!
1:45 PM: Oh, wait. AC man can find nothing wrong with AC, except it's not drawing enough power. Advises me to call home warranty company back and request an electrician. Wait for AC man to leave, then WAIL.
1:55 PM: Talk to girl at home warranty company who seems to ( A ) have marbles in her mouth ( B ) not understand what I'm explaining and ( C ) not believe that I'm telling the truth about what the AC man told me.
1:57 PM: Wail.
2 PM: Warranty chick tells me they have contacted an electrician. I thank her, hang up, and then lament that there's probably no way they'll make it out to see us today. Cat begins throwing hilarious human-like tantrums in his gated prison. He is throwing himself on the floor, grasping at the bars, and howling. Both hysterically funny and pitiful.
2:15 PM: Electrical company calls. NO SHIT. Sending guy right away. NO WAILING HERE!
2:30 PM: Problem was a blown fuse in the AC's independent breaker box, which I didn't even know about. Feel a little bit like an asshole for paying some dude $55 to change a damn fuse. Then decide I don't care because I have SWEET SWEET AIR CONDITIONING.
2:54 PM: Plop down in front of vent with a glass of ice water to re-watch Project Runway on DVR. Pretend I don't have a shitty cat waiting to be bathed. Hush. Only Tim Gunn matters right now.
Sunday, August 03, 2008
Yet hope remains while the company is true
By straight accounting, this weekend has pretty well sucked. My zucchini plant, the plant in the garden I was most hoping would last until Fall, died. Our air conditioner went out. Again. The night before a 93-degree day. The fans we set up to move the air around so we wouldn't cook to death have sucked the smell of cat pee out of the office (where the litterbox is) and spread it all over the first floor of the house. And, just over a year since the last time, one of my family's dogs had to get put to sleep.
Tasia was sort of my dog, since when we got her Dad could claim Wolf as his, and Mom could claim Kojak as hers, and my sister had Shadow the Pom. I didn't have a dog, so when my parents took Tasia in, they said she could be my dog. To be honest, though, I think she always preferred my dad most. She was the sweetest dog I've ever known, and would do anything to earn a human's love. Her previous owners had not been good to her, and I never truly understood how anyone could hit a dog so loyal she would've literally laid down her life for a human if she was asked.
She was thirteen years old, and Mom didn't really expect her to make it through last summer, but she'd pulled through. Lately, though, her age was starting to catch up with her. Even before the summer heat really set in, she had given up on climbing the stairs by herself. If she wanted to go out or come in, one of my parents had to carry her out. I dreaded this, always worrying that my mom -- who has no business toting a 65 pound dog up and down basement stairs -- would get hurt.
As the weather got worse, so did Tasia. I called Mom from work on Friday afternoon to see if she'd be home the next morning, and she told me that she'd made an appointment to take Tasia to the vet and have her put to sleep. Tasia's four cups of daily kibble had dwindled to one cup a day, and she didn't always eat that. She was pitifully thin under her thick coat of fur. Her stomach was almost constantly upset, and she'd even stopped taking her favorite treat, rawhide chewsticks. Mom couldn't bear to see Tasia suffer any longer, when it was clear she was sick and so very tired. I told Mom I'd come by in the morning and go along to the appointment.
An hour later, Mom called me back. She'd gone down to check on Tasia and found her barely breathing. She had called the vets' office, and one of the doctors was coming to the house as soon as the office closed to end things. I went straight to the house after I got done at work, and arrived just ahead of the vet. Mom and I sat with Tasia, even though it was clear she was barely there any more. The end was quick and easy and gave her back some of the dignity that old age had stolen from her. We had our chance to say goodbye and tell her what a pretty dog she was and that we loved her. The old pack is back together again, somewhere.
Despite all this, despite all the pain-in-the-ass-ness and the pain in the heart, the weekend was really not so bad. Straight accounting aside, it was actually one of the better weekends I've had in a while. On Friday night, the bibliophile had the gang over to celebrate her birthday (Happy birthday! <3). I was able to let go of most of the day's sorrow in games and laughter and way too much sugar. Saturday night I went out to the country to kidsit. You're going to have to excuse the crappy photo quality here as I show off the best Lego ship I have EVER built:
We had a fabulous Star Wars Lego ship battle, watched a DVD about natural disasters, chased fireflies (which are much faster than I remember, incidentally), collected the eggs from the chicken coop, and headed upstairs for story time, followed by sleep (him) and quiet time to read (me).
Then tonight, the bibliophile was kind enough to host the domino game I was supposed to have at our house, and so I got to hang out with her and rabidmonkey and the apathetic one and my closest friend from back during my craft store days. More sugar, more laughter, and more reminders that my life? It's pretty damn awesome, even when sucky things conspire to bring me down.
Thanks, sincerely, to all of my friends. Thank you for being who you are, and for sticking with me. I don't know what I'd do without you.