Ah yes, time for another one of those posts that drives everyone away screaming in terror. Standard disclaimer: Feel free to skip.
1. True North by Elliott Merrick. Originally published in 1933, this is memoir about a man and his wife traveling with trappers into the Canadian wilderness in 1930. If you like outdoor yarns, you'll like this book. Very interesting.
2. Liberty by Garrison Keiller. If you're looking for another "Lake Wobegon" book, skip about this first half of this one - the beginning is mostly about the thoughts of a 60-year-old man lusting after a sweet young thing. The second half is pure "Lake Wobegon" and pretty good. I must admit I have mixed feelings about Garrison Keiller after finding out that he's apparently pretty much an asshole in real life.
3. True to Form by Elizabeth Berg. I read a lot of these - "coming-of-age" novels - I guess because I like to read about how other people (even fictional characters) handled adolescence. Anyway, this one's very good.
4. The Spirit of Sweetgrass by Nicole Seitz. Novel about a Southern Gullah basket weaver - it starts off good, but goes off the rails about halfway through. Okay.
5. The Story of Edgar Sawtelle by David Wroblewski - I posted about this elsewhere - highly recommended. Brilliant.
6. By the Shore by Galaxy Craze. Novel about a girl who lives in a bed & breakfast in England. Meh. ("Galaxy Craze"? Really?!)
7. Weedy Rough by Douglas Jones. Novel about a small town during the Depression - good.
8. Island of Lost Girls by Jennifer McMahon. Missing-child mystery with a ton of twists and turns - interesting.
9. The Things We Do For Love by Kristin Hannah. Novel about a new-divorced woman who helps out a high school girl in "trouble" - good.
10. My Own Country by Abraham Verghese. Memoir by an infectious-diseases specialist in rural Tennessee when AIDS was first appearing in the 1980s - interesting.
11. Leaving Dirty Jersey by James Salant - A junkie's memoir - good.
You know, I just realized something. I have a little reading list in the kitchen, and as I finish each book I put down a brief synopsis on the list, and then when I've got a page or two, I enter it here. The main reason I do this is so that if I see a book I'm interested in reading, I can search for it here and find out if I've already read it. That's right, folks, it's not uncommon for me to get twenty or thirty pages into a book and discover that I've read it before. Does everybody do that, or is it just me?
And to be perfectly honest with you, looking at that list above, I don't remember the details (main characters, etc.) of some of those books, even though I've read them all within the last month or so. Spooky.
Thursday, April 02, 2009
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
Great Moments in Sports
I was watching the World Figure Skating Championships last weekend (I know! I KNOW!). I don't really follow this stuff (honest), but one performance blew me away.
Evan Lysacek (U.S.) was skating a beautiful, clean performance, landing every jump, on his way to the gold medal. And as he got to his final sit-spin, he starting beating his fists into the air (during the spin), as if to say, "Holy f*cking f*ck!!! I did it!! I WON!!!!!!
It was great. I watched it over and over. This dude just skated the performance of a lifetime, and he knew it, and he was thrilled. It was kind of amazing, actually.
Evan Lysacek (U.S.) was skating a beautiful, clean performance, landing every jump, on his way to the gold medal. And as he got to his final sit-spin, he starting beating his fists into the air (during the spin), as if to say, "Holy f*cking f*ck!!! I did it!! I WON!!!!!!
It was great. I watched it over and over. This dude just skated the performance of a lifetime, and he knew it, and he was thrilled. It was kind of amazing, actually.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Scarred for Life
After kitkat and FightAgainstRedTape mentioned the tv show "How Clean Is Your House" in comments on an earlier post, I decided to catch a couple of episodes.
Oh. My. Gah.
I can't figure out if this is porn for slobs, or porn for clean freaks. A little of both, I guess. The basic premise is that someone is living in filth, and the show sends in a team of people to get their house clean again.
And when I say filth, I mean FILTH. We're talking scraping legions of dead flies off the windowsills and using engine cleaner to get the grunge off the stove.
Guh-ross.
But the best (?) part is when they take samples off various surfaces and send them to the lab to find out exactly which kinds of contagion are brewing in these people's houses. I shit you not, they found e-coli in one dude's bathtub.
And the thing that killed me is that, at least in the two episodes I watched, the people didn't even seem particularly embarrassed by their living conditions. It was just, "Oh, well, it kind of got away from me, and besides, it's not that bad."
Yes, IT IS THAT BAD. Yes it is.
My eyes hurt.
Oh. My. Gah.
I can't figure out if this is porn for slobs, or porn for clean freaks. A little of both, I guess. The basic premise is that someone is living in filth, and the show sends in a team of people to get their house clean again.
And when I say filth, I mean FILTH. We're talking scraping legions of dead flies off the windowsills and using engine cleaner to get the grunge off the stove.
Guh-ross.
But the best (?) part is when they take samples off various surfaces and send them to the lab to find out exactly which kinds of contagion are brewing in these people's houses. I shit you not, they found e-coli in one dude's bathtub.
And the thing that killed me is that, at least in the two episodes I watched, the people didn't even seem particularly embarrassed by their living conditions. It was just, "Oh, well, it kind of got away from me, and besides, it's not that bad."
Yes, IT IS THAT BAD. Yes it is.
My eyes hurt.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Snaaaaaaaaaaakes!
This time of year, the snakes start coming out of hibernation, but the weather is still chilly, so they tend to stay together for warmth. Sometimes you'll find them all curled up into a ball, with just their heads poking out.
Snake pile!
Friday, March 27, 2009
Well, I guess it'd come in handy when it was time to wash the sheets ......
I took a look at a house the other night, and this was in the master bedroom:
Seriously?! Who puts the washer and dryer and a utility sink IN THE BEDROOM? There were other rooms in this house that would have happily accommodated a laundry, so why on earth would you put it in the master bedroom?!
I mean, COME ON, if you have to run some extra pipes to get it someplace else, that's what you do, right? And how long before bleach gets spilled on that carpeting, or the washer springs a little leak and rampant mold growth ensues?
But at least the washer/dryer setup could have been remedied. The "view", alas, could not:
HahahahahaNO.
Seriously?! Who puts the washer and dryer and a utility sink IN THE BEDROOM? There were other rooms in this house that would have happily accommodated a laundry, so why on earth would you put it in the master bedroom?!
I mean, COME ON, if you have to run some extra pipes to get it someplace else, that's what you do, right? And how long before bleach gets spilled on that carpeting, or the washer springs a little leak and rampant mold growth ensues?
But at least the washer/dryer setup could have been remedied. The "view", alas, could not:
HahahahahaNO.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
(Land of the) (Lost)
You know what's driving me crazy about "Lost"? That cheezy sound effect they use every time somebody's about to time-travel. The light gets really bright, and then you hear that cheezy "whhhoooooOOOOP"!
Which I guess proves that the show has finally driven me around the bend. I can accept the whole time-travel thing, but I cannot accept the cheezy "whhhoooooOOOP".
I think, though, that I'm finally figuring out the show's formula. They spend the first 90% of every episode confusing the shit out of you, then they clear up just enough in the last 10% so you're all, like, "I GOT IT!! AM BRILLIANT!" And then in the next episode, they go with story lines totally unrelated to the previous episode, spend the first 90% confusing the shit out of you again, and then clear more stuff up in the last 10%. Lather, rinse, repeat.
I do admit I'll keep watching, mainly because at this point, I'vewasted invested enough time in this show to make it silly to quit now, so close to the end. Even though last night's episode (Now they're in Moscow! Now they're in Costa Rica! Now it's the seventies! Now it's present day! She's a hooker - no, wait, she's a bounty hunter!) made me feel like that girl in Poltergeist, when she puts her hands to her head and screams "What's happening here?!?!"
Lost, indeed.
Which I guess proves that the show has finally driven me around the bend. I can accept the whole time-travel thing, but I cannot accept the cheezy "whhhoooooOOOP".
I think, though, that I'm finally figuring out the show's formula. They spend the first 90% of every episode confusing the shit out of you, then they clear up just enough in the last 10% so you're all, like, "I GOT IT!! AM BRILLIANT!" And then in the next episode, they go with story lines totally unrelated to the previous episode, spend the first 90% confusing the shit out of you again, and then clear more stuff up in the last 10%. Lather, rinse, repeat.
I do admit I'll keep watching, mainly because at this point, I've
Lost, indeed.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
This one's not gonna win me any friends
I'm sure I would be going to hell for the following, if I, you know, believed in hell and all.
I was watching "17 Kids and Counting" the other night (I know! I KNOW!), and some of theweirdos Duggars went to Guatemala or some other godforsaken country to bring supplies to the poor people, and, I'm sure, dose them up with some good old-time religion while they were in neighborhood.
And I got thinking about how when governments are unable/unwilling to help their own poor people, it is often individuals who step up to the plate. Which got me thinking about the Gates Foundation, which is, among other things, providing the funds to vaccinate millions of children in Africa.
But then I got thinking, "Well yeah, that's great and all, but if they all get vaccinated, that means they're going to live longer (duh), and who the hell is going to feed all these people?" I mean, lots of poor countries are already vastly overpopulated with starving people, and if we add millions more people who previously would have died from now-preventable diseases to the mix, isn't that just going to create a whole nother problem?
So THEN I got thinking, "Well, what are you going to do - withhold the vaccines so that they'll die and not increase the surplus population?" , and, "Aren't epidemics of malaria, etc., nature's way of controlling excess population?", and, "Why vaccinate people so they can live even longer lives of abject poverty?"
I don't know. But it makes me uneasy to think this way.
I was watching "17 Kids and Counting" the other night (I know! I KNOW!), and some of the
And I got thinking about how when governments are unable/unwilling to help their own poor people, it is often individuals who step up to the plate. Which got me thinking about the Gates Foundation, which is, among other things, providing the funds to vaccinate millions of children in Africa.
But then I got thinking, "Well yeah, that's great and all, but if they all get vaccinated, that means they're going to live longer (duh), and who the hell is going to feed all these people?" I mean, lots of poor countries are already vastly overpopulated with starving people, and if we add millions more people who previously would have died from now-preventable diseases to the mix, isn't that just going to create a whole nother problem?
So THEN I got thinking, "Well, what are you going to do - withhold the vaccines so that they'll die and not increase the surplus population?" , and, "Aren't epidemics of malaria, etc., nature's way of controlling excess population?", and, "Why vaccinate people so they can live even longer lives of abject poverty?"
I don't know. But it makes me uneasy to think this way.
I guess they ran out of paint. Or enthusiasm. Or something.
Actually, I think I preferred the light green to the neon blue. And if you look off to the right, you can see the couch!
That was quick!
My boss just introduced me to the joys of control-alt-delete, when faced with a blank blue screen. Is a miracle! That's why he's the boss, and I'm not.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
My new lamp - let me show you it
Is pretty, no? This is the one that my downstairs neighbor held hostage in his apartment for two days.
I'm more than a little embarrassed to admit that this lamp cost me six times what my kitchen table cost me, but it's beauuuuuutiful! And it's the first thing I've bought "new" for my apartment in a long, long time. Innernet, you done good by me.
I felt a little bit guilty about this purchase, as I am saving up for a house, but every once in a while something's gotta give. I got out my passbook the other day, and I've been scrimping and saving for two years now. And I keep socking away money in the house account, little by little, and I am inching closer all the time to the mythical 20%-down-payment figure. It's in my reach! I'm almost there! So ......... close ........... Now I just need to find a house to buy ........ Somewheeerrrrrre out therrrrrrre .............
Oops, sorry! Got a little bit off topic there.
Movie Review - "Dear Zachary"
"Dear Zachary" is a documentary. When a filmmaker's friend was brutally murdered, he decided to interview basically everyone the guy ever knew, making a record for his friend's young son. (The son, incidentally, whose mother was the murderer; she killed his father when she was pregnant with him.)
This starts off sadly enough, and about three-quarters of the way through, it takes a tragic twist that would be unbelievable if it wasn't true. Your heart just aches for the little boy's grandparents, who have to deal with a nightmare that is almost unbearable.
This movie is just fascinating, if awfully, awfully sad, and I do highly recommend it, but please be forewarned: This is not a "feel-good" movie by any stretch of the imagination. It does, however, give the sense of how one person, one ordinary Joe Schmo, can touch the lives of many other people.
This starts off sadly enough, and about three-quarters of the way through, it takes a tragic twist that would be unbelievable if it wasn't true. Your heart just aches for the little boy's grandparents, who have to deal with a nightmare that is almost unbearable.
This movie is just fascinating, if awfully, awfully sad, and I do highly recommend it, but please be forewarned: This is not a "feel-good" movie by any stretch of the imagination. It does, however, give the sense of how one person, one ordinary Joe Schmo, can touch the lives of many other people.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Talk about truth in advertising .....
From a local listing:
"Yup! It's a trailer cleverly disguised as a house. Great yard space, potential for anything better than it currently is. Frozen water lines, not financeable due trailer and freeze damage."
Gotta love a listing agent with a sense of humor. I have to wonder how the seller feels about it, though.
Updated on 3/26/09 to add: People, it sold. IT SOLD.
"Yup! It's a trailer cleverly disguised as a house. Great yard space, potential for anything better than it currently is. Frozen water lines, not financeable due trailer and freeze damage."
Gotta love a listing agent with a sense of humor. I have to wonder how the seller feels about it, though.
Updated on 3/26/09 to add: People, it sold. IT SOLD.
Half the cat he used to be
I had to take The Runt to the vet's last Friday. (Ear infection; $113.00; drops to clear it up.) He was very good and only hissed and spit once, when the vet had a probe-thingy waaaaay down his ear. (I think I'll try that next time I'm at the ob-gyn.)
A while back, I wrote about how big The Runt was getting, and how he now weighed over ten lbs. But when they weighed him at the vet on Friday, he weighed 6.3 lbs.
Hmmmmm. I'm going to assume someone's scale is off, and I'm going to assume it's mine. Guess he's not such a bruiser, after all.
A while back, I wrote about how big The Runt was getting, and how he now weighed over ten lbs. But when they weighed him at the vet on Friday, he weighed 6.3 lbs.
Hmmmmm. I'm going to assume someone's scale is off, and I'm going to assume it's mine. Guess he's not such a bruiser, after all.
I'm the Sheik of Araby .........
And I'm a Pretty Little Princess ..........
You'd think they'd have learned to hide the camera by now.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Breaking News!!
The Hi Way Dairy Bar is open for the season!
And the berry twirl soft-serve is just as delicious as ever.
And the berry twirl soft-serve is just as delicious as ever.
Friday, March 20, 2009
How the other half lives
They live like slobs, I'll tell you that right off the bat.
I went to look at a house the other night that was currently being rented. There was a big 'ol beat-up sofa sitting in the backyard. The owner explained that it had been there all winter; he had asked the tenants to remove it, but they hadn't "got around to it yet". Maybe it's me, but it would drive me absolutely insane to look out my window every day and see a beat-up sofa sitting in my yard. I'd set FIRE to the damn thing before I let it sit there. Indoor furniture belongs indoors, and outdoor furniture belongs outdoors, and never the twain shall meet.
Looking at houses has not been my first experience in seeing how strangers live. Back a few years ago, I helped out a couple of relatives by going door-to-door with them and notarizing signatures on a petition they were trying to get signed for a business they wanted to open. (No, it wasn't a strip club; it was a motorcycle repair shop, which is evidently just as bad in some people's eyes. "OMG! Bikers! Run for your lives!!")
Because these relatives knew most of the people whose doors we were knocking on, we got invited into a lot of houses. And you would not believe the mess. Front porches so full of boxes of crap you had to squeeze through just to get to the front door. Sinks and counters full of filthy dishes. Pet-hair-encrusted furniture. You get the picture.
The poor people were not the worst. Maybe they just didn't own enough stuff for it to accumulate and become dirt-covered. It was the low-middle-income people who lived like they had only recently been introduced to indoor plumbing.
Living in an apartment building, I'm always amazed that I've never gotten cockroaches courtesy of my neighbors. My one former neighbor, Bill, had an apartment so full of crap you could literally barely walk through it. He once left on vacation for two weeks and left behind a sink full of filthy dishes soaking in filthy water. (I used to pet sit; that's how I know.) His stove was so grease-encrusted that, oh boy, I don't even know how to tell this one - let's just say that he didn't clean it before he moved out, and the guy who moved in after him didn't bother to clean it either, and shortly after the new guy moved in, he went to use the stove one night, and the stove itself actually caught on fire, the entire stove, thanks to the grease buildup.
And let's not even talk about bathrooms, shall we? Oh heck, let's. The first time I met my (now-ex-) father-in-law, I was visiting his home and went to use the bathroom. Suffice it to say, this was my very first experience with the "if it's yellow, let it mellow" doctrine, and I was horrified. People, flush the damn toilet. If you're having plumbing problems, GET IT FIXED. This is not something you can let slide, for f*ck's sake.
Wow. Sorry. I guess I'm a little sensitive about toilet hygiene.
Now, I am no Suzy Homemaker, and if you run your finger across any surface in my apartment, you will probably come up with some dust. I'm fairly certain there may be a scary thing or two in the crisper drawer of my fridge.
But some of the things I've seen in other people's houses frighten me.
I went to look at a house the other night that was currently being rented. There was a big 'ol beat-up sofa sitting in the backyard. The owner explained that it had been there all winter; he had asked the tenants to remove it, but they hadn't "got around to it yet". Maybe it's me, but it would drive me absolutely insane to look out my window every day and see a beat-up sofa sitting in my yard. I'd set FIRE to the damn thing before I let it sit there. Indoor furniture belongs indoors, and outdoor furniture belongs outdoors, and never the twain shall meet.
Looking at houses has not been my first experience in seeing how strangers live. Back a few years ago, I helped out a couple of relatives by going door-to-door with them and notarizing signatures on a petition they were trying to get signed for a business they wanted to open. (No, it wasn't a strip club; it was a motorcycle repair shop, which is evidently just as bad in some people's eyes. "OMG! Bikers! Run for your lives!!")
Because these relatives knew most of the people whose doors we were knocking on, we got invited into a lot of houses. And you would not believe the mess. Front porches so full of boxes of crap you had to squeeze through just to get to the front door. Sinks and counters full of filthy dishes. Pet-hair-encrusted furniture. You get the picture.
The poor people were not the worst. Maybe they just didn't own enough stuff for it to accumulate and become dirt-covered. It was the low-middle-income people who lived like they had only recently been introduced to indoor plumbing.
Living in an apartment building, I'm always amazed that I've never gotten cockroaches courtesy of my neighbors. My one former neighbor, Bill, had an apartment so full of crap you could literally barely walk through it. He once left on vacation for two weeks and left behind a sink full of filthy dishes soaking in filthy water. (I used to pet sit; that's how I know.) His stove was so grease-encrusted that, oh boy, I don't even know how to tell this one - let's just say that he didn't clean it before he moved out, and the guy who moved in after him didn't bother to clean it either, and shortly after the new guy moved in, he went to use the stove one night, and the stove itself actually caught on fire, the entire stove, thanks to the grease buildup.
And let's not even talk about bathrooms, shall we? Oh heck, let's. The first time I met my (now-ex-) father-in-law, I was visiting his home and went to use the bathroom. Suffice it to say, this was my very first experience with the "if it's yellow, let it mellow" doctrine, and I was horrified. People, flush the damn toilet. If you're having plumbing problems, GET IT FIXED. This is not something you can let slide, for f*ck's sake.
Wow. Sorry. I guess I'm a little sensitive about toilet hygiene.
Now, I am no Suzy Homemaker, and if you run your finger across any surface in my apartment, you will probably come up with some dust. I'm fairly certain there may be a scary thing or two in the crisper drawer of my fridge.
But some of the things I've seen in other people's houses frighten me.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Random things about house-hunting
1. It is extremely awkward to look at a house when the people who are renting it are home. Especially when they won't move out of your damn way so you can, you know, SEE THE HOUSE.
2. The amount of money you can put down up front makes a HUGE difference in your monthly payments. Amazingly, I am just finding this out. Because I'm an idiot.
3. NO RAILROAD TRACKS. Maybe it's just me, but folks, I read The Dollmaker. Anyone who has ever read The Dollmaker knows what I'm sayin' here. (Long story short: Destitute Kentucky family moves to Detroit; little girl playing on the tracks gets run over by a train; her LEGS are severed in the accident; she bleeds to death in her mother's arms. The End.) NO RAILROAD TRACKS.
4. The mention of the word "plume" needs to send you running in the other direction.
5. You can fix a bad house, but you cannot fix a bad lot.
I've got a million of 'em. How about you?
2. The amount of money you can put down up front makes a HUGE difference in your monthly payments. Amazingly, I am just finding this out. Because I'm an idiot.
3. NO RAILROAD TRACKS. Maybe it's just me, but folks, I read The Dollmaker. Anyone who has ever read The Dollmaker knows what I'm sayin' here. (Long story short: Destitute Kentucky family moves to Detroit; little girl playing on the tracks gets run over by a train; her LEGS are severed in the accident; she bleeds to death in her mother's arms. The End.) NO RAILROAD TRACKS.
4. The mention of the word "plume" needs to send you running in the other direction.
5. You can fix a bad house, but you cannot fix a bad lot.
I've got a million of 'em. How about you?
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
American Idol
Disclaimer: I'm not watching; really, I'm not. The Mucinex made me do it.
Did anybody see that dude last night who sang "Ring of Fire" with a middle-eastern influence? I can't decide if it was awful or brilliant (ok, ok, it was pretty awful), but hey, the guy's got nuts. Either that, or he's just really sick of the whole thing and wants to go home.
And HOW OLD is Randy Travis? I really hope he's not seriously ill or something, 'cause man, he looks like he's about ninety.
Did anybody see that dude last night who sang "Ring of Fire" with a middle-eastern influence? I can't decide if it was awful or brilliant (ok, ok, it was pretty awful), but hey, the guy's got nuts. Either that, or he's just really sick of the whole thing and wants to go home.
And HOW OLD is Randy Travis? I really hope he's not seriously ill or something, 'cause man, he looks like he's about ninety.
Movie Review - "Wall-E"
I don't usually care for animation, but everybody raved about "Wall-E" so much that I finally went ahead and Netflixed it, only to discover that .......... I don't care for animation.
I'm sure everybody in the free world's already seen this one, so I don't need to recap the movie. I enjoyed the first twenty minutes or so, while he was still on earth, but once they got to the spaceship, it seemed like the animators were just trying to cram as much as they possibly could into every cel.
What can I say - I don't care for animation. Maybe it's all the thousands of hours of Saturday morning cartoons I watched as a kid - I burned out. Oh, and does anybody else remember when Saturday morning was the only time cartoons were on (well, except for The Flintstones, who were on in prime time, if I remember correctly)?
I'm sure everybody in the free world's already seen this one, so I don't need to recap the movie. I enjoyed the first twenty minutes or so, while he was still on earth, but once they got to the spaceship, it seemed like the animators were just trying to cram as much as they possibly could into every cel.
What can I say - I don't care for animation. Maybe it's all the thousands of hours of Saturday morning cartoons I watched as a kid - I burned out. Oh, and does anybody else remember when Saturday morning was the only time cartoons were on (well, except for The Flintstones, who were on in prime time, if I remember correctly)?
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
......... survey SAYS!*.....
........ sinus infection, earning me a prescription for Amoxicillin with a chaser of Mucinex. And believe me, they regulate the Mucinex MUCH MORE CLOSELY than they do the antibiotics. Thanks, tweakers!
But holy gee, maybe I can finally start to recover. Even Dr. "No-Antibiotics-For-You" caved and gave me the goods, telling me, "you'll never get better without 'em."
And I promise you, I'll start talking about something else now. Coming soon: Movie review!*
*because THAT never gets old. Heh.
But holy gee, maybe I can finally start to recover. Even Dr. "No-Antibiotics-For-You" caved and gave me the goods, telling me, "you'll never get better without 'em."
And I promise you, I'll start talking about something else now. Coming soon: Movie review!*
*because THAT never gets old. Heh.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Cold from Hell: Day ........ aw, f*ck it
How sick am I? This sick:
1. I stopped bothering with the Kleenex and am now blowing my nose on toilet paper, because it's cheaper. Klassy!
2. In desperation, I actually went out and bought a Neti Pot yesterday. And then I went home and used it.
3. I am actually considering calling my doctor, Dr. "No-Antibiotics-For-You", to see if there isn't something, anything, he can prescribe to ease the sinus headache. Because one of these coughs, my head is going to explode.
Waaaaaaaaah.
1. I stopped bothering with the Kleenex and am now blowing my nose on toilet paper, because it's cheaper. Klassy!
2. In desperation, I actually went out and bought a Neti Pot yesterday. And then I went home and used it.
3. I am actually considering calling my doctor, Dr. "No-Antibiotics-For-You", to see if there isn't something, anything, he can prescribe to ease the sinus headache. Because one of these coughs, my head is going to explode.
Waaaaaaaaah.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Vertical Limit
Two of my neighbors, a couple of doors down on either side, have dogs which they keep in fenced yards. Dogs who were extremely fond of treeing The Runt in his kittenhood before he learned to stay out of their spaces.
Now the cats are enjoying a new pastime: Teasing the dogs. They'll park their little cat butts several feet outside of the dogs' fenced yards and watch the dogs go wild trying to get to them. I've done everything I can to discourage them, telling them that it's cruel; that it's all fun and games until somebody blah blah blah, but do they listen to me? Noooooooo. Probably because they don't understand human language, but still.
The other night the inevitable happened. I looked out the kitchen door to see the cats frantically flying across the back yard, followed extremely closely by the neighbor's enormous Chow mix. This dog is HUGE, and while I'm sure he's a giant teddy bear, he is extremely intimidating. I mean, when this dog growls, the freakin' ground trembles. The cats had evidently teased him past his breaking point, and he had either jumped over or busted through his fence, and was now determined to get those damned cats once and for all. Folks, he was so intent on the chase, I later found divot marks in the back yard where he had dug in his paws to get better traction.
I flung the door open and started calling, hoping the cats could get in the door and I could get it shut before the dog caught up. Little Girl came tearing up the stairs and streaked through the door, at which point she flopped onto the kitchen floor as if to say, "Whew! Safe!" I turned around to see The Runt coming up over the deck railing.
I live on the second floor. The deck is on the second floor. The deck railing is on the second floor. From doing a little forensic reconstruction after things had calmed down, I discovered that The Runt, evidently figuring that he couldn't make it to the stairs before the Chow got him, had flung himself onto the wooden shed door underneath the deck, caught the top of the shed door frame (eight feet up) with his claws, scrabbled onto the bottom deck rail (nine feet up), and then propelled himself over the top deck railing (twelve feet up). This cat, who is maybe a foot long, managed to vertically hurl himself eight feet to the top of the shed door and then scrabble the rest of the way.
My old, beloved cat Rocky used to do this in reverse; if someone startled him while he was on the deck, he'd leap to the ground below. But I never even imagined that a cat could make a trip back up.
Hopefully, they've learned their lesson. - that dogs will break through fences if you enrage them enough. And if somebody ever starts up a cat Olympics, I've got a contestant for the high jump.
Now the cats are enjoying a new pastime: Teasing the dogs. They'll park their little cat butts several feet outside of the dogs' fenced yards and watch the dogs go wild trying to get to them. I've done everything I can to discourage them, telling them that it's cruel; that it's all fun and games until somebody blah blah blah, but do they listen to me? Noooooooo. Probably because they don't understand human language, but still.
The other night the inevitable happened. I looked out the kitchen door to see the cats frantically flying across the back yard, followed extremely closely by the neighbor's enormous Chow mix. This dog is HUGE, and while I'm sure he's a giant teddy bear, he is extremely intimidating. I mean, when this dog growls, the freakin' ground trembles. The cats had evidently teased him past his breaking point, and he had either jumped over or busted through his fence, and was now determined to get those damned cats once and for all. Folks, he was so intent on the chase, I later found divot marks in the back yard where he had dug in his paws to get better traction.
I flung the door open and started calling, hoping the cats could get in the door and I could get it shut before the dog caught up. Little Girl came tearing up the stairs and streaked through the door, at which point she flopped onto the kitchen floor as if to say, "Whew! Safe!" I turned around to see The Runt coming up over the deck railing.
I live on the second floor. The deck is on the second floor. The deck railing is on the second floor. From doing a little forensic reconstruction after things had calmed down, I discovered that The Runt, evidently figuring that he couldn't make it to the stairs before the Chow got him, had flung himself onto the wooden shed door underneath the deck, caught the top of the shed door frame (eight feet up) with his claws, scrabbled onto the bottom deck rail (nine feet up), and then propelled himself over the top deck railing (twelve feet up). This cat, who is maybe a foot long, managed to vertically hurl himself eight feet to the top of the shed door and then scrabble the rest of the way.
My old, beloved cat Rocky used to do this in reverse; if someone startled him while he was on the deck, he'd leap to the ground below. But I never even imagined that a cat could make a trip back up.
Hopefully, they've learned their lesson. - that dogs will break through fences if you enrage them enough. And if somebody ever starts up a cat Olympics, I've got a contestant for the high jump.
FIRST!!1!1!
Those out-of-focus green things you see in the foreground of this pic are daylilies poking up through the ground in my backyard. Usually the bleeding heart is the first thing up, followed by the crocuses, but this year the daylilies, like the spring, would not be denied.
And I already felt queasy to begin with
Have you ever come across a word you did not know, looked it up, and then was sorry you did? I was reading a book (My Own Country by Abraham Verghese - very interesting) and came across the word "hemicorporectomy".
I am telling you this as a favor - DO NOT look that word up. For the love of Pete, just trust me on this one. You don't want to know what it means.
You're welcome.
I am telling you this as a favor - DO NOT look that word up. For the love of Pete, just trust me on this one. You don't want to know what it means.
You're welcome.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Cold from Hell: Day 8
The Cold from Hell continues to throw interesting things my way. The Sudafed, which previously had me wired up like a crackhead, is now making me slleeeeeepppppyyy. Which pretty much sucks, seeing as how I'm at work, and as much as I would like to just put my head down on my desk like a little kid, I'm not sure the Boss would appreciate it.
Oh, and I just went to make a cup of coffee, in a desperate bid to maintain consciousness, and all of a sudden I got so dizzy I had to grab onto the counter to keep from keeling over. I'm guessing that this has something to do with the fact that my sinuses, hell, my entire head, feels like it's filled with concrete. I mean, seriously, every time I try to take a breath something deep inside my head squeaks, like it's saying, "Get the hell out of here, you damn air! Can't you tell there's no room in here?!"
Teh awesome!
Oh, and I just went to make a cup of coffee, in a desperate bid to maintain consciousness, and all of a sudden I got so dizzy I had to grab onto the counter to keep from keeling over. I'm guessing that this has something to do with the fact that my sinuses, hell, my entire head, feels like it's filled with concrete. I mean, seriously, every time I try to take a breath something deep inside my head squeaks, like it's saying, "Get the hell out of here, you damn air! Can't you tell there's no room in here?!"
Teh awesome!
......... survey SAYS!*.....
..... water pump, for $274.26.
And it turns out I narrowly averted disaster on this one, as everyone has been eager to tell me after the diagnosis. It seems that when the coming-unmoored water pump pulley (so that was the metallic clashing noise. Huh.) finally slips its surly bonds, the very least that happens is you end up on the side of the road with an overheated engine. And if the pulley is, well, enthusiastic and decides to clang around a bit in your engine compartment after breaking free, you can be well and truly screwed.
Lesson learned.
*Family Feud. And don't even try to tell me that you didn't watch it too, back in the day.
And it turns out I narrowly averted disaster on this one, as everyone has been eager to tell me after the diagnosis. It seems that when the coming-unmoored water pump pulley (so that was the metallic clashing noise. Huh.) finally slips its surly bonds, the very least that happens is you end up on the side of the road with an overheated engine. And if the pulley is, well, enthusiastic and decides to clang around a bit in your engine compartment after breaking free, you can be well and truly screwed.
Lesson learned.
*Family Feud. And don't even try to tell me that you didn't watch it too, back in the day.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Oh, and I sure hope the mechanic takes Visa .....
...... because I just opened up my checkbook to discover that I have no checks. None. I mean, I HAVE some, but they are at home, where I am not, and I cannot go get them because the car is at the mechanic's. And I imagine I will actually have to PAY said mechanic before he lets me take my car. To go get some checks.
*sigh*
But! To distract me from the Cold from Hell, let's play a rousing round of Automotive Diagnostics! A few days (okay, okay, maybe a couple of weeks) ago, my car started sounding, well ........ LOUDER. I'd start it up in the morning, and instead of a nice, quiet, car-running-normally sound, it was all, ROWWRRRRRRRRRR. You know, like when a kid revs the engine of his parents' car. My car was running fine, no check-engine light, no nothing, it was just, well, LOUDER. And the LOUD sounded a leeetttle, well, metallic. Like steel gears crashing, underneath the LOUD.
And at this point you're like, wait a minute, she waited how long before taking the car into the shop?! In my defense (because I always have a defense), I once had an old Ford Escort that made exactly the same noise for a good two months before the exhaust system finally crashed to the ground one fine day. So when the Saturn started making this noise, I figure, well, it's the exhaust system, it's about to fall off, and I've got about two months. So ACTUALLY, I was way AHEAD of schedule by taking it in after only a couple of weeks.
And now! The car is at the garage! Is it the exhaust system? Is it something else entirely? Is it all in my head, and the mechanic will call and say, "Sorry, crazy lady, we couldn't find a thing wrong with it."? (Oh, and if I had a dime for every time THAT'S happened .............)
Stay tuned! Dun dun DUNNNNNNNN............
*sigh*
But! To distract me from the Cold from Hell, let's play a rousing round of Automotive Diagnostics! A few days (okay, okay, maybe a couple of weeks) ago, my car started sounding, well ........ LOUDER. I'd start it up in the morning, and instead of a nice, quiet, car-running-normally sound, it was all, ROWWRRRRRRRRRR. You know, like when a kid revs the engine of his parents' car. My car was running fine, no check-engine light, no nothing, it was just, well, LOUDER. And the LOUD sounded a leeetttle, well, metallic. Like steel gears crashing, underneath the LOUD.
And at this point you're like, wait a minute, she waited how long before taking the car into the shop?! In my defense (because I always have a defense), I once had an old Ford Escort that made exactly the same noise for a good two months before the exhaust system finally crashed to the ground one fine day. So when the Saturn started making this noise, I figure, well, it's the exhaust system, it's about to fall off, and I've got about two months. So ACTUALLY, I was way AHEAD of schedule by taking it in after only a couple of weeks.
And now! The car is at the garage! Is it the exhaust system? Is it something else entirely? Is it all in my head, and the mechanic will call and say, "Sorry, crazy lady, we couldn't find a thing wrong with it."? (Oh, and if I had a dime for every time THAT'S happened .............)
Stay tuned! Dun dun DUNNNNNNNN............
I feel shitty, oh so shitty ............
Day 7 of the Cold from Hell. The cold meds are leaving me with the attention span of a gnat and the constitution of the loser of the hot-dog eating contest, but I'll be back as soon as I can with exciting news about The Runt's attempt to make the cat Olympics. Oh, and the car's in the garage with a mysterious Noise of Unknown Origin, so that oughta be interesting .....
Back soon. Thank you for your patience.
Back soon. Thank you for your patience.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Hell, just give me the gun .......
...... and I'll do it myself.
We are on Day 6 now of the Cold from Hell. I started feeling punky last Thursday and it spiraled down from there. I've taken enough Sudafed to power a nuclear reactor (am I the only one who gets jittery on Sudafed? It's like a serious caffeine buzz on top of your illness, which is not awesome, but it's the only thing that'll cut the symptoms for me) and still I am sick as a damn dog. I'm pretty healthy in general and usually only get SICK-sick once every few years, so you'd better believe the drama is cranked full blast. Woooooe is meeeeee.
The only thing that really makes me feel better when I am sick is chocolate milk, which is pretty odd, because I usually don't drink milk at all. But anyway, chocolate milk it is, and imagine my displeasure this morning when I opened up a carton, took a great big swig, and discovered that the milk was SOUR. Oh yeah, drinking sour damn milk when you're already sick is a ticket to hell, for sure.
Back soon, unless this damn cold actually KILLS me, in which case it's been nice knowin' ya.
We are on Day 6 now of the Cold from Hell. I started feeling punky last Thursday and it spiraled down from there. I've taken enough Sudafed to power a nuclear reactor (am I the only one who gets jittery on Sudafed? It's like a serious caffeine buzz on top of your illness, which is not awesome, but it's the only thing that'll cut the symptoms for me) and still I am sick as a damn dog. I'm pretty healthy in general and usually only get SICK-sick once every few years, so you'd better believe the drama is cranked full blast. Woooooe is meeeeee.
The only thing that really makes me feel better when I am sick is chocolate milk, which is pretty odd, because I usually don't drink milk at all. But anyway, chocolate milk it is, and imagine my displeasure this morning when I opened up a carton, took a great big swig, and discovered that the milk was SOUR. Oh yeah, drinking sour damn milk when you're already sick is a ticket to hell, for sure.
Back soon, unless this damn cold actually KILLS me, in which case it's been nice knowin' ya.
Monday, March 09, 2009
Oh, just shoot me now
I've got a rotten, lousy, soul-sucking cold.
Excuse me while I go cough. and sneeze. and whhiiiinnnnnnnne.
Excuse me while I go cough. and sneeze. and whhiiiinnnnnnnne.
Friday, March 06, 2009
I don't even pretend to understand this stuff
My house-hunting continues. At this point, I've basically looked at everything in my price range that I'd even consider living in (and a lot of stuff I wouldn't consider living in - as my Realtor cheerfully puts it, "You're looking for the top of the bottom!"), and now I'm just waiting for new stuff to come on the market.
Amazingly, some of the shitholes that I've looked at and laughed at have already sold. I mean, really! I wish I could somehow call up the buyers and ask, "What are you thinking?! Do you have ANY IDEA how much it's going to cost to replace that foundation?!" Everybody's gotta live someplace, I guess.
There was one property I had my eye on that was out in the country, but still close enough to work. It had two acres (yessssss) of land, a great big garage, beautiful views, and ....... a single-wide mobile home. At first I was all, like, "ahhahahahaNO. I've lived in a trailer before, and I'm not gonna do it again." But the price was so damn low that I started thinking, well, maybe I could buy it, and put up a stick-built (traditional, non-TRAILER) home in a few years. This property had been on the market before, had had one contract fall through, and was now on the market again. I called my mortgage broker, who informed me that I would not be able to get a reasonable-interest-rate mortgage on a single-wide. (I have no idea why; maybe because trailers tend to, well, blow over and catch fire and stuff?) That's okay, I thought, it was probably a bone-headed idea anyway, and put it out of my mind.
I subscribe to an automated-listing thingie that notifies me whenever new stuff in my price range comes on the market. It also lets me know when a listing has changed. And yesterday morning, it let me know that the listing on the trailer property had changed. Hmmm, I wondered, maybe they've dropped the price even lower? Or maybe it sold .............. I clicked on the listing, and the seller had RAISED the price. By almost TWENTY PERCENT.
Whaaaaa? You've got a property that hasn't sold, that no one can even get a MORTGAGE on, for Pete's sake, and now you're raising the price?
I would love to know the story behind this, because it's gotta be a good one. The only thing that I can possibly think of is that gas companies have been doing a lot of prospecting and buying up of gas rights in this area over the past couple of years; maybe the seller found out the gas rights to his land were worth something. I can't think of another reason to raise the price .....
Amazingly, some of the shitholes that I've looked at and laughed at have already sold. I mean, really! I wish I could somehow call up the buyers and ask, "What are you thinking?! Do you have ANY IDEA how much it's going to cost to replace that foundation?!" Everybody's gotta live someplace, I guess.
There was one property I had my eye on that was out in the country, but still close enough to work. It had two acres (yessssss) of land, a great big garage, beautiful views, and ....... a single-wide mobile home. At first I was all, like, "ahhahahahaNO. I've lived in a trailer before, and I'm not gonna do it again." But the price was so damn low that I started thinking, well, maybe I could buy it, and put up a stick-built (traditional, non-TRAILER) home in a few years. This property had been on the market before, had had one contract fall through, and was now on the market again. I called my mortgage broker, who informed me that I would not be able to get a reasonable-interest-rate mortgage on a single-wide. (I have no idea why; maybe because trailers tend to, well, blow over and catch fire and stuff?) That's okay, I thought, it was probably a bone-headed idea anyway, and put it out of my mind.
I subscribe to an automated-listing thingie that notifies me whenever new stuff in my price range comes on the market. It also lets me know when a listing has changed. And yesterday morning, it let me know that the listing on the trailer property had changed. Hmmm, I wondered, maybe they've dropped the price even lower? Or maybe it sold .............. I clicked on the listing, and the seller had RAISED the price. By almost TWENTY PERCENT.
Whaaaaa? You've got a property that hasn't sold, that no one can even get a MORTGAGE on, for Pete's sake, and now you're raising the price?
I would love to know the story behind this, because it's gotta be a good one. The only thing that I can possibly think of is that gas companies have been doing a lot of prospecting and buying up of gas rights in this area over the past couple of years; maybe the seller found out the gas rights to his land were worth something. I can't think of another reason to raise the price .....
Thursday, March 05, 2009
American Idol
I'm not really watching this season, really I'm not, mainly because if I have to sit through one more lip-synched, atrociously-choreographed "group number" I'm going to hurl, but still, the show is often on while I'm doing other stuff. A couple of thoughts:
Why do the judges offer a suggestion on how to improve to someone, and then when that person actually takes their advice, they knock the person down AGAIN. I'm thinking of that Puerto Rican dude - they told him to lose the accent, he hired a dialogue coach and lost the damn accent, and then they slammed him for getting rid of the accent. WTF? Maybe I got it wrong, because like I said, I'm really not paying attention, but it seems like that's what happened.
Is that flaming gay guy gone yet? I have absolutely nothing against gay people, but holy shit, that guy gets on my nerves.
How much longer is this show going to drag on? There's a limit to how much televised karaoke anybody can take. Oh, right, Rocky, CHANGE THE CHANNEL.
Why do the judges offer a suggestion on how to improve to someone, and then when that person actually takes their advice, they knock the person down AGAIN. I'm thinking of that Puerto Rican dude - they told him to lose the accent, he hired a dialogue coach and lost the damn accent, and then they slammed him for getting rid of the accent. WTF? Maybe I got it wrong, because like I said, I'm really not paying attention, but it seems like that's what happened.
Is that flaming gay guy gone yet? I have absolutely nothing against gay people, but holy shit, that guy gets on my nerves.
How much longer is this show going to drag on? There's a limit to how much televised karaoke anybody can take. Oh, right, Rocky, CHANGE THE CHANNEL.
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
NERD
I was inordinately excited this past weekend when I found a Hawaii quarter in my change, meaning that BOTH my state quarters maps are now all filled up! Yay! I DID it! And I didn't even cheat by asking at the bank if they had this quarter or that quarter. All my quarters came the old-fashioned way, in change I received.
NERD. NEEERRRRRRRRRRRDDDDDDDDD.
NERD. NEEERRRRRRRRRRRDDDDDDDDD.
Monday, March 02, 2009
World Tour of Local Diners
Every few weeks, my Mom and I go out to eat on Sunday afternoon. And because by noon on Sunday she's ready for lunch but I'm usually ready for breakfast, we go to a lot of diners (breakfast all day! Yay!). How to tell if it's a diner and not a restaurant: It has a counter with stools, in addition to table seating. You have to pay at the cashier's stand, not pay your waitress. Oh yeah, and they've gotta serve breakfast all day. A few that we've visited so far:
1. Parkway Diner. Also known as Brothers Diner; also known as Friends Diner. This place evidently changes hands quite a bit. This is probably our favorite. Eggs Benedict is one of the specials quite often, and it is here that I discovered the Monte Cristo sandwich. (Oh! Monte Cristo, I love you!) Service is fast; soda (and coffee, of course) refills are free, and prices are reasonable. We go here a lot.
2. Pete's Legacy Diner. Home of the absolutely fantastic-looking desserts - they've got the best display case in town. One of these days we're going to have to go and have dessert for lunch, because those high-rise meringue pies look really, really good. Good service, good prices - this place is always packed. Our second-favorite.
3. Take-a-Break - This is right next to Pete's. Duelling diners! Prices are good, but they were a little skimpy with the pastrami on my Reuben. For shame! Still, service was good and the place is clean, and they give free soda refills.
4. The Spot - This place is popular, but I'm not really sure why. It's huge and extremely noisy, and the service was just so-so, and the prices were on the high side for a diner.
5. The Skylark - Jeez, I remember going here with my friends after parties when I was a teenager. Service is kind of hit-or-miss and the booths are kind of cramped, but the food's pretty good. Plus, there's that nostalgia factor.
6. Red Robin - This is a local landmark. I'm not really sure why; we went at a usually busy time (Sunday-after-church time), and the place was deserted, they were out of the first thing I ordered, service was crappy, and the prices weren't great. Scratch this one off the list.
7. Park Diner - Another local landmark. Service was super-fast, the food was good, and the view (it's right on the river) was spectacular, but the prices were high. I guess you're paying for the view. Oh, and I did see my state Senator while we were there. Maybe that's included in the price.
8. Plaza Diner - This is a new one, located in a former Hooters restaurant. It's extremely popular (I snagged the last parking space in the large lot), but there wasn't much of a wait for a table. It's not a true diner, because there's no counter-with-stools, but the prices and the food are good. Soda refills are free. The tables/booths are kind of scrunched together, and it was pretty loud, so it's not really a place to go if you want to hang out and relax. Still, the pancake sandwich is worth coming back for.
9. Blue Dolphin - Pricey, and they stop serving breakfast at 12:30 on Sunday (boo! Hissssss!).
We probably won't go back.
So! That's where we've been so far. This area is pretty diner-heavy, so we've got a bunch to try out before we have to start driving very far. And right now I'm slavering over the thought of a pancake sandwich, or Eggs Benedict, or a Monte Cristo .............
1. Parkway Diner. Also known as Brothers Diner; also known as Friends Diner. This place evidently changes hands quite a bit. This is probably our favorite. Eggs Benedict is one of the specials quite often, and it is here that I discovered the Monte Cristo sandwich. (Oh! Monte Cristo, I love you!) Service is fast; soda (and coffee, of course) refills are free, and prices are reasonable. We go here a lot.
2. Pete's Legacy Diner. Home of the absolutely fantastic-looking desserts - they've got the best display case in town. One of these days we're going to have to go and have dessert for lunch, because those high-rise meringue pies look really, really good. Good service, good prices - this place is always packed. Our second-favorite.
3. Take-a-Break - This is right next to Pete's. Duelling diners! Prices are good, but they were a little skimpy with the pastrami on my Reuben. For shame! Still, service was good and the place is clean, and they give free soda refills.
4. The Spot - This place is popular, but I'm not really sure why. It's huge and extremely noisy, and the service was just so-so, and the prices were on the high side for a diner.
5. The Skylark - Jeez, I remember going here with my friends after parties when I was a teenager. Service is kind of hit-or-miss and the booths are kind of cramped, but the food's pretty good. Plus, there's that nostalgia factor.
6. Red Robin - This is a local landmark. I'm not really sure why; we went at a usually busy time (Sunday-after-church time), and the place was deserted, they were out of the first thing I ordered, service was crappy, and the prices weren't great. Scratch this one off the list.
7. Park Diner - Another local landmark. Service was super-fast, the food was good, and the view (it's right on the river) was spectacular, but the prices were high. I guess you're paying for the view. Oh, and I did see my state Senator while we were there. Maybe that's included in the price.
8. Plaza Diner - This is a new one, located in a former Hooters restaurant. It's extremely popular (I snagged the last parking space in the large lot), but there wasn't much of a wait for a table. It's not a true diner, because there's no counter-with-stools, but the prices and the food are good. Soda refills are free. The tables/booths are kind of scrunched together, and it was pretty loud, so it's not really a place to go if you want to hang out and relax. Still, the pancake sandwich is worth coming back for.
9. Blue Dolphin - Pricey, and they stop serving breakfast at 12:30 on Sunday (boo! Hissssss!).
We probably won't go back.
So! That's where we've been so far. This area is pretty diner-heavy, so we've got a bunch to try out before we have to start driving very far. And right now I'm slavering over the thought of a pancake sandwich, or Eggs Benedict, or a Monte Cristo .............
Friday, February 27, 2009
Once Were Kittens
When they were kittens:
The cats are nine months old now. Little Girl still looks like a kitten, but The Runt is a full-grown cat. At least, I hope he's full-grown; this cat is BIG. Not fat, just long and lean and ...... long.
Here is one of the kittens, at about five weeks old, playing on the scratching post (to be honest, I'm not sure if this is The Runt or one of his littermates):
Here is The Runt with that same scratching post now:
I busted out the scale the other night. Little Girl comes in at a (relatively) petite 8.2 lbs., and The Runt? 10.4 lbs.!!!
The cats are nine months old now. Little Girl still looks like a kitten, but The Runt is a full-grown cat. At least, I hope he's full-grown; this cat is BIG. Not fat, just long and lean and ...... long.
Here is one of the kittens, at about five weeks old, playing on the scratching post (to be honest, I'm not sure if this is The Runt or one of his littermates):
Here is The Runt with that same scratching post now:
I busted out the scale the other night. Little Girl comes in at a (relatively) petite 8.2 lbs., and The Runt? 10.4 lbs.!!!
Hmmmm ....... maybe he's been talking to A-Rod.
Once were kittens. Once were baybeez.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Town without pity
Now that I've been walking on the side of my foot for a few days to try to take the weight off my broken toe, I've noticed that I've pulled some calf muscles that evidently haven't been used for a while. Good times!
Regardless, life must go on, blah blah blah, and I've been gimping around the grocery store and the bank and other places. And I've noticed that people don't look at me in pity, like, "awwww, poor limping woman!" They look at me in anger, like, "asssssss, get the f*ck out of my way - I'm important and in a big hurry, and you're a pathetic gimp who's slowing me down."
I mean, I'm trying to stay out of people's way; but realistically, when you're walking in slo-mo, people are going to be rushing by you. And it's not like I'm sticking out my flippin' foot to TRIP them or anything.
Try a little tenderness, people. Or at least stop turning around to cut me with your dagger eyes as you blow by me. I'm not doing this on purpose just to piss you off.
Regardless, life must go on, blah blah blah, and I've been gimping around the grocery store and the bank and other places. And I've noticed that people don't look at me in pity, like, "awwww, poor limping woman!" They look at me in anger, like, "asssssss, get the f*ck out of my way - I'm important and in a big hurry, and you're a pathetic gimp who's slowing me down."
I mean, I'm trying to stay out of people's way; but realistically, when you're walking in slo-mo, people are going to be rushing by you. And it's not like I'm sticking out my flippin' foot to TRIP them or anything.
Try a little tenderness, people. Or at least stop turning around to cut me with your dagger eyes as you blow by me. I'm not doing this on purpose just to piss you off.
Unintended Consequences
A while back, I was on the Stress Diet and/or the Dental Diet for quite some time, and I lost some weight. And for whatever reason, I never gained that weight back. Which actually sort of pleased me, until this past weekend, when I was trying on bras and realized I'd actually gone down a bra cup size.
Whoa, nelly! Those girls need all the help they can get. So I was thinking, "Jeez, time to amp up the calorie intake just a little", and then I got to thinking, "What if it's not the weight loss? What if they're shrinking and deflating, like old ladies' boobs do?
C'est impossible! I'm only forty-six, for Pete's sake. I can't really be experiencing old-lady-boob-shrinkage already, can I? Can I?
Don't answer that.
Whoa, nelly! Those girls need all the help they can get. So I was thinking, "Jeez, time to amp up the calorie intake just a little", and then I got to thinking, "What if it's not the weight loss? What if they're shrinking and deflating, like old ladies' boobs do?
C'est impossible! I'm only forty-six, for Pete's sake. I can't really be experiencing old-lady-boob-shrinkage already, can I? Can I?
Don't answer that.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Sad News
Lisa, a damn fine woman and the author of one of my favorite blogs, Clusterfook, is passing away. I'd appreciate it if you could stop over there and leave a few kind words for her and her family.
Thanks,
RockyCat
Thanks,
RockyCat
More about my boss
Yesterday, my boss wanted a billing update on a project. I ran all the spreadsheets, copied all the invoices, and made a quick recap sheet for him:
(Identifying info has been blacked out.)
My boss took the package, went into his office, and handed me the following about an hour later, saying, "Okay - bill it."
And here's the thing: I took that mess, made sense of it, and had a bill ready to go a short time later.
Twenty-two years, peeps.
(Identifying info has been blacked out.)
My boss took the package, went into his office, and handed me the following about an hour later, saying, "Okay - bill it."
And here's the thing: I took that mess, made sense of it, and had a bill ready to go a short time later.
Twenty-two years, peeps.
Busted!
........... for misappropriation of office supplies.
Last night, my boss stopped by my place to drop off some stuff I had forgotten at the office. We visited for a while, and he excused himself to use the bathroom. When he came back into the living room, he had the oddest smile on his face, and he said, "I couldn't help but notice your toothpaste ............"
"Crap!" I burst out laughing. "Busted!"
You see, I use binder clips from the office to secure the rolled-up ends of the toothpaste tubes. The office that my boss owns. The office for which HE buys all the supplies. The supplies I occasionally take home with me.
"I use them to close up potato chips bags", my boss said, "but I never even thought about using them on toothpaste tubes. Looks like I'll have to take home a few more."
Whew. Good thing he's got a sense of humor.
Last night, my boss stopped by my place to drop off some stuff I had forgotten at the office. We visited for a while, and he excused himself to use the bathroom. When he came back into the living room, he had the oddest smile on his face, and he said, "I couldn't help but notice your toothpaste ............"
"Crap!" I burst out laughing. "Busted!"
You see, I use binder clips from the office to secure the rolled-up ends of the toothpaste tubes. The office that my boss owns. The office for which HE buys all the supplies. The supplies I occasionally take home with me.
"I use them to close up potato chips bags", my boss said, "but I never even thought about using them on toothpaste tubes. Looks like I'll have to take home a few more."
Whew. Good thing he's got a sense of humor.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Next Step: World Domination
I think the cats are trying to kill me.
Little Girl has a disconcerting habit of waiting until I'm asleep, and then wrapping herself around my head like a scarf. At first I thought it was cute, but now I'm wondering if she's trying to smother me, due to a little trick The Runt has picked up: He winds himself around my feet when I am trying to walk.
It was endearing at first, because he's not the friendliest cat in the world, but I've almost gone sprawling several times. And last night, he ambushed me from beneath a chair, springing out at the last second, and in the ensuing scramble to not step on the cat you will smush it, I banged my foot into the chair, HARD, and broke my friggin' toe. Or, if you will, THE GODDAM CAT BROKE MY TOE FOR ME. And now my toe is swollen and purple and BROKEN and oh my God do not touch my toe owwwwwwwww.......
Now I don't know who they think is going to open up the cans of cat food once they do away with me; I guess they haven't gotten that far yet in their evil plan.
"Pull my finger", says The Runt.
oh, wait, I don't HAVE fingers ....... hmmmm..........
Think it all the way through first, guys.
Little Girl has a disconcerting habit of waiting until I'm asleep, and then wrapping herself around my head like a scarf. At first I thought it was cute, but now I'm wondering if she's trying to smother me, due to a little trick The Runt has picked up: He winds himself around my feet when I am trying to walk.
It was endearing at first, because he's not the friendliest cat in the world, but I've almost gone sprawling several times. And last night, he ambushed me from beneath a chair, springing out at the last second, and in the ensuing scramble to not step on the cat you will smush it, I banged my foot into the chair, HARD, and broke my friggin' toe. Or, if you will, THE GODDAM CAT BROKE MY TOE FOR ME. And now my toe is swollen and purple and BROKEN and oh my God do not touch my toe owwwwwwwww.......
Now I don't know who they think is going to open up the cans of cat food once they do away with me; I guess they haven't gotten that far yet in their evil plan.
"Pull my finger", says The Runt.
oh, wait, I don't HAVE fingers ....... hmmmm..........
Think it all the way through first, guys.
Oh yeah, THAT cake .....
I went ahead and made the cake the weekend before last. I baked just one layer of the cake mix (so it wouldn't be too huge), and substituted around 1/2 cup of the syrup from the raspberries for some of the water in the mix. Oddly enough, the bright red syrup turned the mix, and the subsequent cake, a really odd shade of blue/gray. Hmmmmm.
I split the cooled cake horizontally, and mixed some of the raspberry jam with some of the frosting for the middle layer. I put the whole thing back together, frosted it, and spread the raspberries on top, which made it look like someone had had a horrible accident on top of the cake, so then I tried to cover that up with more frosting, which ........... FAIL. So then I dribbled some chocolate syrup over the top, which just kind of compounded the mess.
But! It tastes great! Next time, I just have to use fresh raspberries, NOT the ones in syrup which I had, for the topping. Wanna see? Be careful ......... cover your eyes and peek through your fingers ........ The Runt's not afraid of it, so you shouldn't be either ........
Closer view? .........
I split the cooled cake horizontally, and mixed some of the raspberry jam with some of the frosting for the middle layer. I put the whole thing back together, frosted it, and spread the raspberries on top, which made it look like someone had had a horrible accident on top of the cake, so then I tried to cover that up with more frosting, which ........... FAIL. So then I dribbled some chocolate syrup over the top, which just kind of compounded the mess.
But! It tastes great! Next time, I just have to use fresh raspberries, NOT the ones in syrup which I had, for the topping. Wanna see? Be careful ......... cover your eyes and peek through your fingers ........ The Runt's not afraid of it, so you shouldn't be either ........
Closer view? .........
HahahahahaOooooops! Well heck, like I said, it tastes good. And I stored the leftover cake batter in the fridge, and for a while, every time I went in the kitchen, I found myself mysteriously drawn to that container of cake batter like it had some kind of force field around it, and I found myself wolfing down a couple of spoonfuls several times a day. I finally threw it away for fear that the chances of salmonella poisoning (from the raw egg in the batter) were increasing exponentially with each day that went by.
Think they'll let me on Top Chef?
(And no, I do not let the cats on the table. You can see how well that's working out.)
Monday, February 23, 2009
Twenty-Two
On February 23, 1987, I started a new job. I was a little nervous, for while I had gone to school for this particular vocation, I had never actually done it before. It was a big step up from my previous jobs (cashier, machine-shop worker, burger flipper), and I would be making the princely sum of *gasp!* five dollars an hour, with the promise of a substantial raise if I lasted six months.
I lasted six months. As a matter of fact, as of today, I've lasted twenty-two years here.
Oh, I could tell some stories. Insane co-workers, insane clients, insane job assignments .... the works.
Twenty-two years. Holy cow. Heck, at least it keeps me off the streets. :)
I lasted six months. As a matter of fact, as of today, I've lasted twenty-two years here.
Oh, I could tell some stories. Insane co-workers, insane clients, insane job assignments .... the works.
Twenty-two years. Holy cow. Heck, at least it keeps me off the streets. :)
Read this book RIGHT NOW
The Story of Edgar Sawtelle by David Wroblewski is absolutely the best book I've read in a long time. It's a novel about a boy, his dogs, and his family, and if that sounds kind of "meh", give it a try anyway, because this is a great, great book. Totally worth all the hype, it's beautiful, heartbreaking and joyous.
This book clocks in at over five hundred pages, and I managed to read it in the space of a weekend. Granted, nothing else got done, but the book is worth it. Read it!
This book clocks in at over five hundred pages, and I managed to read it in the space of a weekend. Granted, nothing else got done, but the book is worth it. Read it!
Friday, February 20, 2009
Art Projects
Ever since I bought some kid's art project in a thrift store, I've been thinking about grade school art projects. The one that really sticks out in my mind was when we took bright-colored crayons and colored big blocks of color on a sheet. Then we crayoned all over THAT in black, then took some kind of stylus-thingie and scraped off areas of the black to make multi-colored pictures. I absolutely LOVED that, and I remember doing those pictures over and over again for MONTHS at home after I had done it at school.
For those of you with kids: Do they still do that?
I think "art" was probably my favorite class as a kid, mainly because it didn't seem to require any painful learning. And getting out the paints and the newspapers and making a colossal mess was always entertaining.
I remember one time we took these thick sheets of linoleum and x-acto knives and made these sort of block stamp thingies, which I also loved, and did on my own at home, at least until I sliced the shit out of my thumb with the x-acto knife and had to have stitches and Mom put the kibosh on that whole little project.
In junior high home ec, we had a unit where we had to sew something. I picked a stuffed hippo pattern (I don't KNOW why; I have no particular thing for hippos), and I remember I kept DOING IT WRONG and having to rip out the stitches over and over and over to finally get that damned hippo right. I still don't like to sew.
My mom didn't save any of my childhood artwork (hello, I was CHILD NUMBER 6), or any of my school papers, or any of that stuff, so I don't have any of it to look over now. How about you? Do you still have any of your childhood art?
For those of you with kids: Do they still do that?
I think "art" was probably my favorite class as a kid, mainly because it didn't seem to require any painful learning. And getting out the paints and the newspapers and making a colossal mess was always entertaining.
I remember one time we took these thick sheets of linoleum and x-acto knives and made these sort of block stamp thingies, which I also loved, and did on my own at home, at least until I sliced the shit out of my thumb with the x-acto knife and had to have stitches and Mom put the kibosh on that whole little project.
In junior high home ec, we had a unit where we had to sew something. I picked a stuffed hippo pattern (I don't KNOW why; I have no particular thing for hippos), and I remember I kept DOING IT WRONG and having to rip out the stitches over and over and over to finally get that damned hippo right. I still don't like to sew.
My mom didn't save any of my childhood artwork (hello, I was CHILD NUMBER 6), or any of my school papers, or any of that stuff, so I don't have any of it to look over now. How about you? Do you still have any of your childhood art?
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Rocky
When you're dreaming with a broken heart
The waking up is the hardest part
You roll outta bed and down on your knees
And for a moment you can hardly breathe
Wondering was he really here?
Is he standing in my room?
No he's not, cause he's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone
When you're dreaming with a broken heart
The giving up is the hardest part
He takes you in with your crying eyes
Then all at once you have to say goodbye
Wondering could you stay my love?
Will you wake up by my side?
No he can't, cause he's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone
Now do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hand?
Do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hand?
Do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hand?
Do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hand?
Baby, won't you get them if I did?
No you won't, cause you're gone, gone, gone, gone, gone ........
When you're dreaming with a broken heart
The waking up is the hardest part
- John Mayer
Rocky, it's been a year since you passed away. I'm still not ready to write the post I want to write about this; a year just isn't enough time to wrap my head around your loss. Every so often I find myself calling The Runt by your name, and I just want to cry, because no other cat will ever be the cat that you were.
I was so lucky to have had you in my life for those fifteen years; you were my best friend, and I guess you always will be.
I was thinking of your theme song the other day, remember it? I'd pick you up and dance you around and sing it to the tune of the old Spiderman cartoon song:
Rocketman, Rocketman
Does whatever a rocket can
Flies through the air
With his paws
Catches mice
With his jaws
Look out, here comes the Rocketman!
Look out, here comes the Rocketman!
Look out, here comes the Rocketmaaaaaaaan!
Yeah, I'll bet you thought it was pretty silly, but it still makes me smile when I think about it. And it makes me smile to think of you.
I love you, baby.
The waking up is the hardest part
You roll outta bed and down on your knees
And for a moment you can hardly breathe
Wondering was he really here?
Is he standing in my room?
No he's not, cause he's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone
When you're dreaming with a broken heart
The giving up is the hardest part
He takes you in with your crying eyes
Then all at once you have to say goodbye
Wondering could you stay my love?
Will you wake up by my side?
No he can't, cause he's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone
Now do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hand?
Do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hand?
Do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hand?
Do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hand?
Baby, won't you get them if I did?
No you won't, cause you're gone, gone, gone, gone, gone ........
When you're dreaming with a broken heart
The waking up is the hardest part
- John Mayer
Rocky, it's been a year since you passed away. I'm still not ready to write the post I want to write about this; a year just isn't enough time to wrap my head around your loss. Every so often I find myself calling The Runt by your name, and I just want to cry, because no other cat will ever be the cat that you were.
I was so lucky to have had you in my life for those fifteen years; you were my best friend, and I guess you always will be.
I was thinking of your theme song the other day, remember it? I'd pick you up and dance you around and sing it to the tune of the old Spiderman cartoon song:
Rocketman, Rocketman
Does whatever a rocket can
Flies through the air
With his paws
Catches mice
With his jaws
Look out, here comes the Rocketman!
Look out, here comes the Rocketman!
Look out, here comes the Rocketmaaaaaaaan!
Yeah, I'll bet you thought it was pretty silly, but it still makes me smile when I think about it. And it makes me smile to think of you.
I love you, baby.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
What. A. Dump!
Actually, the neighborhood wasn't bad, if you could overlook the train tracks and the gravel pit and the knowledge that the entire area was under about ten feet of water a few years back.
But the house ........... well, the interior was okay, but the fact that parts of the house were propped up by two-by-fours was a little off-putting. Add to that the trash-filled, overgrown, woodchuck-infested tiny lot, and ........
Dear Realtor:
Please don't show me any more shitholes. Kthx -
Rockycat
But the house ........... well, the interior was okay, but the fact that parts of the house were propped up by two-by-fours was a little off-putting. Add to that the trash-filled, overgrown, woodchuck-infested tiny lot, and ........
Dear Realtor:
Please don't show me any more shitholes. Kthx -
Rockycat
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
"Flowers in the Attic", anyone?
The other day I walked into the bedroom to discover this:
Awwwww ............ young love! Kitty canoodling!
Wait a minute .......... they're brother and sister, for Pete's sake!
Good thing I had them fixed.
(and let's just ignore the fact that according to the clock in the pic, it was 2:20 in the afternoon, and my bed was still unmade, shall we?)
Awwwww ............ young love! Kitty canoodling!
Wait a minute .......... they're brother and sister, for Pete's sake!
Good thing I had them fixed.
(and let's just ignore the fact that according to the clock in the pic, it was 2:20 in the afternoon, and my bed was still unmade, shall we?)
Lipstick on a pig
I took a look at another house on Friday after work. The listing described it as "totally remodeled", and it was. New siding, new drywall, new floors, new carpeting, new kitchen cabinets, skylights (!), the works. Unfortunately, the remodel work was just covering up some pretty nasty stuff.
Most of the windows had been replaced, but I noticed that the original wood surrounding the new windows was awful punky. Then I went outside and checked out the areas of the framing that were not yet covered by the new siding being installed, and that wood was all rotted out as well. They were just covering up the damaged wood with siding, which doesn't seem like a real good idea to me.
The septic was shot, which immediately put it out of my price range. But the real deal-killer was the foundation. Oh, the foundation ...........
Don't open that access door ..............
Eeeeekkkk!
I have looked at more dismal/crappy/disintegrating foundations in the past few weeks than I care to remember. I swear, the house I finally buy is going to have a slab on grade. Screw the basement.
Monday, February 16, 2009
GFI
What else happened on Saturday? Why, this:
(Please ignore the coffee stain on the wall. I've tried to scrub it off and it won't come off; evidently the only solution is a fresh coat of paint, which the landlord can do after I move out. Heh.)
On Saturday afternoon, when none of my kitchen appliances were working, at first I thought I'd blown a fuse. When that turned out not to be the case, I called the building super, who told me she'd send over an electrician.
Unfortunately, the "electrician" turned out to be scary-grumpy-toilet-fixer-person. It took him and his son two hours to replace one GFI unit. And I spent the entire time worried that someone was going to electrocute himself in my kitchen. Thankfully, everyone made it out alive.
(Please ignore the coffee stain on the wall. I've tried to scrub it off and it won't come off; evidently the only solution is a fresh coat of paint, which the landlord can do after I move out. Heh.)
On Saturday afternoon, when none of my kitchen appliances were working, at first I thought I'd blown a fuse. When that turned out not to be the case, I called the building super, who told me she'd send over an electrician.
Unfortunately, the "electrician" turned out to be scary-grumpy-toilet-fixer-person. It took him and his son two hours to replace one GFI unit. And I spent the entire time worried that someone was going to electrocute himself in my kitchen. Thankfully, everyone made it out alive.
This post brought to you by the letter "P"
I got this from KitKat.
You list 10 things you love that all begin with a given letter, and post the list on your blog.
My letter is P.
1. Poppies. The blooms only last a day, but gosh, they're spectacular. The floozies of the garden.
2. Polaroid pictures - Remember peering over your Dad's shoulder, waiting for the image to emerge? (Whoops - I think I'm dating myself, here.)
3. Pancakes, particularly the pancake sandwich at the Parkway Diner.
4. Pizza with sausage, onions and green peppers.
5. Pauline, who writes with humor and grace about all kinds of stuff.
6. Pasta with red sauce and buttered italian bread. (Hmmm. This seems to be turning into a list of favorite foods. What can I say - I like to eat!)
7. Pole dancing. (Kidding! Just kidding!)
8. Painting (landscapes and such, not walls). I just wish I was better at it.
9. Preserves - The local nature preserve is a great place to walk.
10. Pouring rain - I love a good rainstorm, especially at night.
There! All done! If anybody wants to play, leave a comment and I'll give you a letter! (No "x"s or "z"s, I promise.) Thanks, KitKat!
You list 10 things you love that all begin with a given letter, and post the list on your blog.
My letter is P.
1. Poppies. The blooms only last a day, but gosh, they're spectacular. The floozies of the garden.
2. Polaroid pictures - Remember peering over your Dad's shoulder, waiting for the image to emerge? (Whoops - I think I'm dating myself, here.)
3. Pancakes, particularly the pancake sandwich at the Parkway Diner.
4. Pizza with sausage, onions and green peppers.
5. Pauline, who writes with humor and grace about all kinds of stuff.
6. Pasta with red sauce and buttered italian bread. (Hmmm. This seems to be turning into a list of favorite foods. What can I say - I like to eat!)
7. Pole dancing. (Kidding! Just kidding!)
8. Painting (landscapes and such, not walls). I just wish I was better at it.
9. Preserves - The local nature preserve is a great place to walk.
10. Pouring rain - I love a good rainstorm, especially at night.
There! All done! If anybody wants to play, leave a comment and I'll give you a letter! (No "x"s or "z"s, I promise.) Thanks, KitKat!
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Busted!
On Saturday, I got pulled over for doing 56 in a 45.
In my defense (I always have a defense, doncha know), I was on a rural two-lane road that cuts through a lot of small towns, meaning the speed limit goes from 55 to 30 to 35 to 55 to 45 ..... it just changes constantly. And I was following a line of cars, so I just assumed we were all going under the speed limit.
According to the nice state trooper, I was wrong.
When I first saw the flashing lights behind me, I pulled over to the side of the road, thinking the cop was on the way to someplace else and would just blow by me.
Nope.
As I sat in my car, debating whether I should pull out my license and registration or wait for the trooper to ask for them, I realized that if I was indeed pulled over for speeding (I couldn't think of any other reason I'd be getting pulled over), this would be my first speeding ticket ever! In thirty years of driving, I had never gotten a speeding ticket. It's not that I'm a goody-goody, it's just that unless I'm rushing somebody to the hospital, I see no need to drive like an idiot. Hmmmf. And really, if I get to work five minutes late in the morning, well ......... whoopee! Oh, and sometimes I do speed, there'd just never been a cop around to witness it.
So! The nice state trooper comes up to my window and asks for my license, registration, and proof of insurance. She asked if I knew why she had pulled me over, and for one insane second I thought about saying, "Because of all those outstanding warrants?", or, "Because of that body wedged underneath the rear axle?", but instead, I just said, "I would have to guess that maybe I've been speeding?", because, honestly, I didn't know that I had been speeding, but that was the only thing that came to mind.
"Yep", she said, "You were doing 56 in a 45. Although to tell you the truth, you certainly don't look like most of the speed demons we get on this stretch of road."
Oooohh, I thought. Profiling!
And then I wondered what a "speed demon" looked like. I'm picturing a teenager in a hot rod wearing bobby socks and ........... oh wait. That was "Happy Days."
So she checked out my license and registration and insurance, told me everything was in order, asked me to pay more attention to the posted speed limits (I sure will, officer!), and let me off with a warning.
Whew! My driving record remains pure as the driven snow. Heh.
In my defense (I always have a defense, doncha know), I was on a rural two-lane road that cuts through a lot of small towns, meaning the speed limit goes from 55 to 30 to 35 to 55 to 45 ..... it just changes constantly. And I was following a line of cars, so I just assumed we were all going under the speed limit.
According to the nice state trooper, I was wrong.
When I first saw the flashing lights behind me, I pulled over to the side of the road, thinking the cop was on the way to someplace else and would just blow by me.
Nope.
As I sat in my car, debating whether I should pull out my license and registration or wait for the trooper to ask for them, I realized that if I was indeed pulled over for speeding (I couldn't think of any other reason I'd be getting pulled over), this would be my first speeding ticket ever! In thirty years of driving, I had never gotten a speeding ticket. It's not that I'm a goody-goody, it's just that unless I'm rushing somebody to the hospital, I see no need to drive like an idiot. Hmmmf. And really, if I get to work five minutes late in the morning, well ......... whoopee! Oh, and sometimes I do speed, there'd just never been a cop around to witness it.
So! The nice state trooper comes up to my window and asks for my license, registration, and proof of insurance. She asked if I knew why she had pulled me over, and for one insane second I thought about saying, "Because of all those outstanding warrants?", or, "Because of that body wedged underneath the rear axle?", but instead, I just said, "I would have to guess that maybe I've been speeding?", because, honestly, I didn't know that I had been speeding, but that was the only thing that came to mind.
"Yep", she said, "You were doing 56 in a 45. Although to tell you the truth, you certainly don't look like most of the speed demons we get on this stretch of road."
Oooohh, I thought. Profiling!
And then I wondered what a "speed demon" looked like. I'm picturing a teenager in a hot rod wearing bobby socks and ........... oh wait. That was "Happy Days."
So she checked out my license and registration and insurance, told me everything was in order, asked me to pay more attention to the posted speed limits (I sure will, officer!), and let me off with a warning.
Whew! My driving record remains pure as the driven snow. Heh.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Caaaaaan you feel the love tonight?
Hahahahahaha! Can you even imagine hanging that monstrosity in your living room? Wow.
So, the house last night was a bust. Actually, the house itself was not that bad, relatively speaking, but the lot was all wrong.
It was worth taking a look at just so I could get a picture of the Lion King.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Shhhh!!! You'll JINX it!
I am going to look at a house tonight that could be a house for me.
I'm almost hoping it isn't, because it seems absurdly early in the search to find a house. And if I like it and put in an offer (it just went on the market today, and my offer could possibly be the first), my life could change in some pretty mega ways.
Oh, but this won't be the house. Naaahhhh.
I'm almost hoping it isn't, because it seems absurdly early in the search to find a house. And if I like it and put in an offer (it just went on the market today, and my offer could possibly be the first), my life could change in some pretty mega ways.
Oh, but this won't be the house. Naaahhhh.
It's all in the execution
For whatever weird reason, I got it in my head that I wanted to make a white cake somehow involving raspberries. As some of you may know, I am NOT a baker. I don't know what's gotten into me lately; first I got conned into making a birthday cake for my nephew-in-law, and then I made the nine-hour jello thing.
So! White cake with raspberries. What I have so far:
1 box white cake mix
1 16-oz tub of raspberries in syrup
1 jar raspberry preserves
1 tub white frosting.
I don't really need to use all of the cake batter; I'll never eat it all. I thought I could just make one layer, 12" x 12", then split the layer and put raspberries and some frosting in between. I was thinking of adding the raspberries to the cake mix, but I'm afraid that will make it tough when it's time to split it, so then I thought maybe I could just put some of the raspberry juice in the cake mix, but that means, of course, that I'll have to reduce some of the other liquid. I'm pretty sure the egg yolks need to stay, so do I need to reduce the oil? The water?
Yeeeeeaaaahhhh. I have no idea what the hell I'm doing. Any suggestions?
So! White cake with raspberries. What I have so far:
1 box white cake mix
1 16-oz tub of raspberries in syrup
1 jar raspberry preserves
1 tub white frosting.
I don't really need to use all of the cake batter; I'll never eat it all. I thought I could just make one layer, 12" x 12", then split the layer and put raspberries and some frosting in between. I was thinking of adding the raspberries to the cake mix, but I'm afraid that will make it tough when it's time to split it, so then I thought maybe I could just put some of the raspberry juice in the cake mix, but that means, of course, that I'll have to reduce some of the other liquid. I'm pretty sure the egg yolks need to stay, so do I need to reduce the oil? The water?
Yeeeeeaaaahhhh. I have no idea what the hell I'm doing. Any suggestions?
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
I ain't the worst that you've seen
I wrote earlier about the scary microwave in a house I looked at. Here's some highlights of other properties I've seen.
These were a set of basement "stairs", which could have been more accurately described as a ladder. The foundation wall behind the stairs consisted of stones that were popping out onto the floor:
Attic access (?):
What a view! Hmmm, there's a parking lot, and a gas station, and ......... a liquor store! How picturesque!:
I think they should have hired a professional for this job:
"Foyer"? Well, if you say so:
Keeeeeeeep looking. Just keeeeeeeep looking.
These were a set of basement "stairs", which could have been more accurately described as a ladder. The foundation wall behind the stairs consisted of stones that were popping out onto the floor:
Attic access (?):
What a view! Hmmm, there's a parking lot, and a gas station, and ......... a liquor store! How picturesque!:
I think they should have hired a professional for this job:
"Foyer"? Well, if you say so:
Keeeeeeeep looking. Just keeeeeeeep looking.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Oh, HELLS NO!
I just got an e-mail with the heading "Family Reunion" from one of my out-of-state relatives. You KNOW that's an e-mail that bodes evil. Evidently she and another relative have been discussing having a get-together in my area this summer, and she wants to know if I'll be on the organizing committee.
Um ............. no?
Not only am I unable to "organize" my way out of a paper bag, there's only aboutten five percent of my family I actually care about spending any time with. I don't even want to GO to a family reunion, let alone help organize it.
So ......... do I just delete the e-mail and pretend I never got it? Respond with a "thanks, but no thanks"? This particular relative has a habit of having GREAT BIG PLANS that never amount to anything, so there is no way I'm getting involved in this little train wreck. Oh, and both she and the other relative are RETIRED, hello, so honey, I think you've got just a leeetle more time than I do.
I think I'll just delete it.
Updated to add: So then I was thinking, I'll send back an e-mail saying that while I'm no good at "organizing" (which is actually a big fat lie; I am extremely good, maybe too good at organizing stuff; I just don't want to organize THIS), I could help out on the big day. And then I thought, "no, I don't even want to BE there, let alone help out", and then I thought, well, how miserly is THAT, but really, if you knew (most of) my family, you'd understand. Then again, well, the last time we all got together was for my Dad's funeral (sob), which was ten years ago (gosh, has it been that long already?), but hey, assholes don't change, and it's not like the jerks I couldn't stand ten years ago will have miraculously morphed into people I want to hang out with for the day .....
Okay, now I'm rambling. Sorry about that.
Um ............. no?
Not only am I unable to "organize" my way out of a paper bag, there's only about
So ......... do I just delete the e-mail and pretend I never got it? Respond with a "thanks, but no thanks"? This particular relative has a habit of having GREAT BIG PLANS that never amount to anything, so there is no way I'm getting involved in this little train wreck. Oh, and both she and the other relative are RETIRED, hello, so honey, I think you've got just a leeetle more time than I do.
I think I'll just delete it.
Updated to add: So then I was thinking, I'll send back an e-mail saying that while I'm no good at "organizing" (which is actually a big fat lie; I am extremely good, maybe too good at organizing stuff; I just don't want to organize THIS), I could help out on the big day. And then I thought, "no, I don't even want to BE there, let alone help out", and then I thought, well, how miserly is THAT, but really, if you knew (most of) my family, you'd understand. Then again, well, the last time we all got together was for my Dad's funeral (sob), which was ten years ago (gosh, has it been that long already?), but hey, assholes don't change, and it's not like the jerks I couldn't stand ten years ago will have miraculously morphed into people I want to hang out with for the day .....
Okay, now I'm rambling. Sorry about that.
Monday, February 09, 2009
Movie Review - "Sweeney Todd"
aka, "There Will Be Blood".
Seriously, this is the bloodiest movie I've seen in a long time. It's a musical starring Johnny Depp as Sweeney Todd, a barber in Victorian England with a serious grudge. There are far more throat-slittings than songs, and by the time Sweeney goes bat-shit crazy at the end, I was having a hard time watching. About all I can say is, I don't think I'll be watching this one again any time soon - too grim. And bloody.
Oh! A couple of years ago, I went to the movies on Christmas, and it was a choice between this one and "I am Legend." I chose "I am Legend", and then worried about zombies for the rest of the day. But now I'm really glad I didn't choose "Sweeney", because I don't know if I ever would have been able to celebrate Christmas again if I had seen that sucker on Christmas.
Seriously, this is the bloodiest movie I've seen in a long time. It's a musical starring Johnny Depp as Sweeney Todd, a barber in Victorian England with a serious grudge. There are far more throat-slittings than songs, and by the time Sweeney goes bat-shit crazy at the end, I was having a hard time watching. About all I can say is, I don't think I'll be watching this one again any time soon - too grim. And bloody.
Oh! A couple of years ago, I went to the movies on Christmas, and it was a choice between this one and "I am Legend." I chose "I am Legend", and then worried about zombies for the rest of the day. But now I'm really glad I didn't choose "Sweeney", because I don't know if I ever would have been able to celebrate Christmas again if I had seen that sucker on Christmas.
You know winter's kicking your butt .....
........ when a nice hot cup of coffee sounds waaaaay better than a nice cold beer.
Friday, February 06, 2009
That's Just How They Roll
Little Girl's ready to party, and The Runt just wants some time to himself, please. Preferably inside a beer box.
Oh, for Pete's Sake
A while back, there was an incident locally where racial slurs were allegedly used at a high school girls' junior varsity soccer game. The accused team explained that one of their players had a nickname that could sound like a racial slur (her name is Megan; her nickname is Meggars), but the slur itself had not been used.
End of story, right? OF COURSE NOT. An investigation was started; when that yielded inconclusive results, the local Athletic Conference got involved. When the Athletic Conference could not determine whether or not slurs had been used, the state Division of Human Rights stepped in. Their report was also inconclusive, although it did state that the "overwhelming majority" of attendees at the game heard no racial slurs.
Is it over now? Nope. This kind of thing never dies. Now codes of conduct are being amended, new rules are being instituted, etc., etc. Evidently, all because some poor kid's got an unfortunate nickname. And really, has a "code of conduct" ever stopped anyone from calling someone else a bad name? Not to make light of anything, but back when I was in junior high, there was one black girl in the entire school, and she was one tough cookie. If anyone had ever called her the "n" word, she would've just beat the shit out of them, end of story.
Now, if that slur indeed was used, that's a bad, bad thing, and should be punished. But it seems to be a simple misunderstanding that could have been cleared up a long time ago, if not for the inability of some people to stop beating a dead horse. Here's an excerpt from a local article about the incident:
"Even though the report found no evidence to support the allegations racist slurs were used at the game, Smith said the finding does not diminish the pain and hurt that members of the Valley High team felt that day because they believed such comments were being made."
And here is where I was going to say I hope these gals grow thicker skin before they head out into the real world, but you know what? This kind of crap is everywhere these days. "No, I didn't actually hear him say it, but he could have said it, and therefore I'm hurt and insulted and suing." That's right, suing. Because it's all about the money these days, isn't it? And I'm sure it's only a matter of time before some of the Valley High parents band together in a lawsuit. Because a couple hundred grand would go a long way toward salving poor little Susie's wounded soul.
Sheesh.
End of story, right? OF COURSE NOT. An investigation was started; when that yielded inconclusive results, the local Athletic Conference got involved. When the Athletic Conference could not determine whether or not slurs had been used, the state Division of Human Rights stepped in. Their report was also inconclusive, although it did state that the "overwhelming majority" of attendees at the game heard no racial slurs.
Is it over now? Nope. This kind of thing never dies. Now codes of conduct are being amended, new rules are being instituted, etc., etc. Evidently, all because some poor kid's got an unfortunate nickname. And really, has a "code of conduct" ever stopped anyone from calling someone else a bad name? Not to make light of anything, but back when I was in junior high, there was one black girl in the entire school, and she was one tough cookie. If anyone had ever called her the "n" word, she would've just beat the shit out of them, end of story.
Now, if that slur indeed was used, that's a bad, bad thing, and should be punished. But it seems to be a simple misunderstanding that could have been cleared up a long time ago, if not for the inability of some people to stop beating a dead horse. Here's an excerpt from a local article about the incident:
"Even though the report found no evidence to support the allegations racist slurs were used at the game, Smith said the finding does not diminish the pain and hurt that members of the Valley High team felt that day because they believed such comments were being made."
And here is where I was going to say I hope these gals grow thicker skin before they head out into the real world, but you know what? This kind of crap is everywhere these days. "No, I didn't actually hear him say it, but he could have said it, and therefore I'm hurt and insulted and suing." That's right, suing. Because it's all about the money these days, isn't it? And I'm sure it's only a matter of time before some of the Valley High parents band together in a lawsuit. Because a couple hundred grand would go a long way toward salving poor little Susie's wounded soul.
Sheesh.
Thursday, February 05, 2009
Bachelor Pad
I took a look at a house after work last night. This one was a "no", mainly because it was on a busy road. Also, the listing stated that the foundation "needs work", which I guess is correct if by "needs work", they meant "needs to be replaced". The basement walls were bowing in so badly I was afraid the damn thing was gonna collapse while I was there.
Now, since I work for a structural engineer, I'm fully aware that even a total foundation replacement is not necessarily an insurmountable obstacle. Lop several grand off the purchase price, and you're good to go. But I just wasn't feeling it for this house. The rooms were small, the kitchen was teensy, and there's that busy road out front.
You could just tell that a guy lives here. A guy with a cat.
Let's take a closer look at the microwave, shall we? 
Now, since I work for a structural engineer, I'm fully aware that even a total foundation replacement is not necessarily an insurmountable obstacle. Lop several grand off the purchase price, and you're good to go. But I just wasn't feeling it for this house. The rooms were small, the kitchen was teensy, and there's that busy road out front.
You could just tell that a guy lives here. A guy with a cat.
The kitchen was pretty nasty:
Let's take a closer look at the microwave, shall we?
I don't know if you can tell by the picture, but there was some kind of ........ something ........ splattered all over the inside of that thing. It looked like he had put ......... something ........ in there, turned it on "high", and waited until ....... whatever it was ........ exploded. Blerch.
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
Movie Review - "Grace is Gone"
No spoilers ahead - it's okay to read this if you haven't seen the movie.
"Grace is Gone" is a character study about a man (John Cusack) who doesn't know how to tell his young daughters that their mother (his wife) was killed in the line of duty while serving in the military. It was very, very interesting - one of the best movies I've seen in a while. It's also relatively short - always a good thing in a movie world of bloated, two-hour-plus running times.
Recommended!
"Grace is Gone" is a character study about a man (John Cusack) who doesn't know how to tell his young daughters that their mother (his wife) was killed in the line of duty while serving in the military. It was very, very interesting - one of the best movies I've seen in a while. It's also relatively short - always a good thing in a movie world of bloated, two-hour-plus running times.
Recommended!
At least now I know where they went
I've got to go to the dentist this morning to have my new mouthpiece fitted. I wear a mouthpiece at night because my jaw's screwed up. I had a couple of mouthpieces that I had been using, but one of them disappeared a few weeks ago, courtesy of the cats. (I have a tendency to yank the mouthpiece out in my sleep and set it on the bed; from there, it's fair game for the cats, who think they've just found a new toy.)
I looked and looked for that mouthpiece, sure that it would turn up eventually. In the past I've found them under the bed, under the couch, under the magazine rack, and under the desk in the kitchen. The cats bat them around until they get batted under something, then they lose interest. I wasn't too concerned, because I had a spare, but on Monday night, the spare also disappeared.
I was starting to wonder if The Runt had started his own orthodontia practice on the side. Where the heck were the mouthpieces? I mean, sure, I was picking up a new one today, but at two hundred bucks a pop, you kind of want to know where they're going.
So! Where were they? I found one under the stove, and one under the fridge. Did I throw them out, after they'd been batted around by cats and possibly chewed on and relegated to dust bunny city? Hell, no. I cleaned them up, soaked them for a while, and put them back in their cases. And you're all, Ewwwwwwwwww!!!!! Let me repeat: Two. Hundred. Dollars.
Oh, and I was going to say something along the lines of, "there's not much I won't put in my mouth for two hundred bucks", but ......... naw.
I looked and looked for that mouthpiece, sure that it would turn up eventually. In the past I've found them under the bed, under the couch, under the magazine rack, and under the desk in the kitchen. The cats bat them around until they get batted under something, then they lose interest. I wasn't too concerned, because I had a spare, but on Monday night, the spare also disappeared.
I was starting to wonder if The Runt had started his own orthodontia practice on the side. Where the heck were the mouthpieces? I mean, sure, I was picking up a new one today, but at two hundred bucks a pop, you kind of want to know where they're going.
So! Where were they? I found one under the stove, and one under the fridge. Did I throw them out, after they'd been batted around by cats and possibly chewed on and relegated to dust bunny city? Hell, no. I cleaned them up, soaked them for a while, and put them back in their cases. And you're all, Ewwwwwwwwww!!!!! Let me repeat: Two. Hundred. Dollars.
Oh, and I was going to say something along the lines of, "there's not much I won't put in my mouth for two hundred bucks", but ......... naw.
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
It was seven years ago today ....
.... that I broke my wrist. It was Super Bowl Sunday, and I was out walking the trails at State Park, and I decided to head back to the car. I hit a patch of ice, my feet went out from under me, and I swear, during the split second that it took me to land, I had time to think, "I KNOW I'm supposed to roll up and land on my side but ohmyGod what if I break my hip and I have to crawl back to the car and I guess I'd better let my arms take the brunt", and I stuck out my arms behind me as I fell and broke my wrist. D'oh!
And of course, the first thing you do after taking a header is jump up and look around to make sure nobody saw you. Which really wasn't a concern, since there was, like, two other cars in the entire park that afternoon. And the next thing I did was move my fingers, and then my wrist. I was pretty sure from the pain that something was broken, but I wasn't entirely sure. At first I thought that I'd drive to the emergency room, but then I remembered what the emergency room looks like on weekends, and instead I went home, wrapped up the wrist in an ace bandage, and called the doc on Monday morning.
Due to the vagaries of our fine, fine healthcare system, it wasn't until Wednesday that I was actually able to see a bone doctor and get a diagnosis of "yep, it's broken." They wanted to cast it, but I insisted on a removable splint, so that I wouldn't have to wrap a damn trash bag around the cast every time I needed to shower or do the dishes.
Moral of the story? You probably should do that whole "roll up in a ball and land on your side" thing. Just let me know if you break your hip.
And of course, the first thing you do after taking a header is jump up and look around to make sure nobody saw you. Which really wasn't a concern, since there was, like, two other cars in the entire park that afternoon. And the next thing I did was move my fingers, and then my wrist. I was pretty sure from the pain that something was broken, but I wasn't entirely sure. At first I thought that I'd drive to the emergency room, but then I remembered what the emergency room looks like on weekends, and instead I went home, wrapped up the wrist in an ace bandage, and called the doc on Monday morning.
Due to the vagaries of our fine, fine healthcare system, it wasn't until Wednesday that I was actually able to see a bone doctor and get a diagnosis of "yep, it's broken." They wanted to cast it, but I insisted on a removable splint, so that I wouldn't have to wrap a damn trash bag around the cast every time I needed to shower or do the dishes.
Moral of the story? You probably should do that whole "roll up in a ball and land on your side" thing. Just let me know if you break your hip.
Do the cats know that spring will come?
Because I have way too much time on my hands, I got wondering about this the other day. Since the cats were born in May, this is their first winter. Do they know that the weather will warm up again, or is it going to be winter forever as far as they know?
What about animals that are a few years old? Do they remember the changing of the seasons, or just take it day by day? What about wild animals? Do they know that spring is coming?
I mean, I'm not trying to anthropomorphize (wow! big word!). It's just that I assume that when it gets dark at night, the cats know that it'll get light again in the morning (or do they? hmmm), and I'm wondering if they have some kind of genetic memory that lets them know that spring will come, even if they've never been through the cycle of seasons before. But wait! That's kind of stupid. I'm pretty sure they never saw winter coming, so why would they know that spring is on its way?
Now I'm really confused.
What about animals that are a few years old? Do they remember the changing of the seasons, or just take it day by day? What about wild animals? Do they know that spring is coming?
I mean, I'm not trying to anthropomorphize (wow! big word!). It's just that I assume that when it gets dark at night, the cats know that it'll get light again in the morning (or do they? hmmm), and I'm wondering if they have some kind of genetic memory that lets them know that spring will come, even if they've never been through the cycle of seasons before. But wait! That's kind of stupid. I'm pretty sure they never saw winter coming, so why would they know that spring is on its way?
Now I'm really confused.
Monday, February 02, 2009
Do you think it was intentional?
There is a local lunch place that I've probably driven past dozens, if not hundreds, of times over the years. I never noticed anything unusual about the place, until the other day when I was stuck in traffic and happened to glance up at the sign:
Whooo boy. Now I'm trying to figure out exactly what they're selling, here.
Whooo boy. Now I'm trying to figure out exactly what they're selling, here.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Regrets, I've Had a Few
Namely, that I didn't get rid of the incriminating evidence of my teen years long ago. Did you know that cleaning out dresser drawers can yield blog post gold? Behold the following, circa 1978 (click to embiggen):
Hahahahahahaha! Holy crap. Not sure if it's song lyrics or a poem, but then again, does it really matter? In my defense, I was 15 and full of hormones.
Coming soon: Diary entries! Stop me, somebody.
Hahahahahahaha! Holy crap. Not sure if it's song lyrics or a poem, but then again, does it really matter? In my defense, I was 15 and full of hormones.
Coming soon: Diary entries! Stop me, somebody.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Cats, Ferrets ......
....... they're basically the same thing, right?
I was looking for a liquid supplement to add to the cats' food to help their fur, which seems really dry and static-y, even with running the humidifier at night. At the local pet stores, I found skin and coat supplements for dogs, rabbits, and ferrets .... but no cats.
So I bought the ferret meds. I mean, how big a difference can there be? They're both small mammals with fur. And the ingredients for the ferret stuff seem similar to the stuff for cats sold on line, so no harm done, right?
If they start to grow weaselly noses and develop beady eyes, I'll know I picked the wrong stuff.
I was looking for a liquid supplement to add to the cats' food to help their fur, which seems really dry and static-y, even with running the humidifier at night. At the local pet stores, I found skin and coat supplements for dogs, rabbits, and ferrets .... but no cats.
So I bought the ferret meds. I mean, how big a difference can there be? They're both small mammals with fur. And the ingredients for the ferret stuff seem similar to the stuff for cats sold on line, so no harm done, right?
If they start to grow weaselly noses and develop beady eyes, I'll know I picked the wrong stuff.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Recently Read
As usual, feel free to skip.
1. When You Are Engulfed In Flames by David Sedaris. I had read most of these stories other places, and the way he blurs the fiction/non-fiction line drives me nuts, but this is still an entertaining read.
2. Thunderhead by Mary O'Hara - Novel about a boy and his horse. I remembered this as being a kids' book, but, um ....... no. Lots of bad stuff happens and his parents almost split up, so I guess it's not really a kids' book. I enjoyed this one. Hmmmm.
3. Of Human Bondage by Somerset Maugham - Interesting, but I got so tired of Philip not being able to make up his mind - I just wanted to reach into the book and shake some sense into him. At least he didn't end up with that horrible Mildred.
4. The Sweet In-Between by Sheri Reynolds - Coming-of-age novel; interesting.
5. Cold Rock River by J.L. Miles - Novel about a young mother in the 60s intertwined with the journal of a slave girl in the Civil War - pretty good.
6. The Little Giant of Aberdeen County by Tiffany Baker - Novel about an extraordinarily large woman - very interesting. It's mainly about the moral choices we make.
7. The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Diaz - Novel about a family who moves from the Dominican Republic to New Jersey. It started out really good, but after a while the writing just seemed gimmicky to me. I skimmed through the last half of the book, which is embarrassing, because after all, it did win the Pulitzer Prize. Still, I'd have to give it a "meh".
8. The Family on Beartown Road by Elizabeth Cohen. Don't make the same mistake I did and assume that this is a sequel to The House on Beartown Road - it's not - it's the same book, evidently re-issued under a different name. Still, it's an interesting memoir about raising a toddler and taking care of a father with Alzheimer's at the same time.
And finally, three that I started and gave up on within the space of an hour:
Tis the Season by Lorna Landvik
Big Stone Gap by Adriana Trigiani
Miss Julia Hits the Road by Ann B. Ross
All three of these looked like light, interesting books, and I particularly like Lorna Landvik's stuff, but I picked up each one of these, read a few pages, and put them right back down. I've been trying to think why each of these was so unenjoyable, and I think it comes down to a lack of subtlety; these books hit you over the head with their Charming! Plots! and their Eccentric!Characters! and their Funny! Dialogue! and ........... blech. Of course, that's just my humble opinion.
That's all for now - I promise!
1. When You Are Engulfed In Flames by David Sedaris. I had read most of these stories other places, and the way he blurs the fiction/non-fiction line drives me nuts, but this is still an entertaining read.
2. Thunderhead by Mary O'Hara - Novel about a boy and his horse. I remembered this as being a kids' book, but, um ....... no. Lots of bad stuff happens and his parents almost split up, so I guess it's not really a kids' book. I enjoyed this one. Hmmmm.
3. Of Human Bondage by Somerset Maugham - Interesting, but I got so tired of Philip not being able to make up his mind - I just wanted to reach into the book and shake some sense into him. At least he didn't end up with that horrible Mildred.
4. The Sweet In-Between by Sheri Reynolds - Coming-of-age novel; interesting.
5. Cold Rock River by J.L. Miles - Novel about a young mother in the 60s intertwined with the journal of a slave girl in the Civil War - pretty good.
6. The Little Giant of Aberdeen County by Tiffany Baker - Novel about an extraordinarily large woman - very interesting. It's mainly about the moral choices we make.
7. The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Diaz - Novel about a family who moves from the Dominican Republic to New Jersey. It started out really good, but after a while the writing just seemed gimmicky to me. I skimmed through the last half of the book, which is embarrassing, because after all, it did win the Pulitzer Prize. Still, I'd have to give it a "meh".
8. The Family on Beartown Road by Elizabeth Cohen. Don't make the same mistake I did and assume that this is a sequel to The House on Beartown Road - it's not - it's the same book, evidently re-issued under a different name. Still, it's an interesting memoir about raising a toddler and taking care of a father with Alzheimer's at the same time.
And finally, three that I started and gave up on within the space of an hour:
Tis the Season by Lorna Landvik
Big Stone Gap by Adriana Trigiani
Miss Julia Hits the Road by Ann B. Ross
All three of these looked like light, interesting books, and I particularly like Lorna Landvik's stuff, but I picked up each one of these, read a few pages, and put them right back down. I've been trying to think why each of these was so unenjoyable, and I think it comes down to a lack of subtlety; these books hit you over the head with their Charming! Plots! and their Eccentric!Characters! and their Funny! Dialogue! and ........... blech. Of course, that's just my humble opinion.
That's all for now - I promise!
Just as Predicted
So! I went to the dentist this morning. The cleaning went fine, but then she started looking at my x-rays and decided that there was a filling that really should be drilled out and re-done, at a cost of two-hundred-and-forty-five dollars. On top of the $145 I spent for the cleaning, and the additional $200 I ponied up to have a new nightguard made.
Let me get back to you on that filling thing, doc.
Let me get back to you on that filling thing, doc.
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