When I got on the computer this morning for my pre-work facebook check, I was startled to have Sara (the friend, not the sister-in-law or tenant) message me. Apparently she just goofs off at her job, whereas the rest of us have to do real work.
There isn't a day that goes by that Bobbie doesn't walk into the office at least twice and ask if "the mail has done run yet."
Tomorrow is Daulton's birthday. He won't let me forget.
He thinks his mom is getting him a go-cart. I'm not sure what he would do with a go-cart.
Beulah walked into the office today holding an envelope in one hand and her phone in the other. She started with her typical, "I want to ask you something." Fortunately, she was just asking if a regular stamp was enough postage to send something to Australia. Why she wanted to send something to Australia, I have no idea, but I told her that she'd have to go to the post office to do it. Then she left.
Daulton asked why she shook so bad. I had to explain to him what Parkinson's was. Fortunately, his reponse was to feel bad for her. Though, he did ask how she could eat and write.
Anna met with Chelsey this evening to practice singing some stuff. This stuff they are singing just happens to be for a new Saturday night service at Chelsey's church in North Vernon. I guess they are going to be the worship leaders. It's cool for Anna to get this opportunity to get involved in music again.
My lower back is tight.
Camouflage Taz. I know it sounds like I wear the same underwear over and over again, and I guess I do. But I promise it is because I wash my clothes frequently. I probably only use about a third of my underwear regularly before it gets washed and thrown back in on the top of my drawer.
I would feel a whole lot better about life if the Rockies could win today and the Braves could lose.
I used the leftover batter from my last batch of waffles to make my dinner. I don't know how long waffle batter lasts in the refrigerator. I'm hoping that it's more than four days.
I called Project 86 a couple times today, begging for free tickets. Let's hope they call me back and give me some.
I guess we're going to take the Explorer in to the shop tomorrow. Here's hoping this isn't too expensive.
My chin itches.
My left leg right, right about my Achilles tendon, itches. I want to scratch it, but I'm too lazy to bend over and do it.
Now my head, behind my left ear, itches.
I need to stop writing about what itches, or I won't ever stop scratching.
People who read this blog: Sara
Sara is Dutch. She is also hilarious. She is also what is known as a "furry" (she's not really, but we like to tease her anyway). She likes cats. She is Howie's god-mother. She calls him "HowHow." She has her own cat. Her name is Mia. She also has a husband, but that is incidental. She reads our blog from her iphone because she is too cool for school and will someday be really rich and snobby and have snobby rich kids with popped collars. We know Sara because she was one of Anna's housemates for the epic '06-'07 school year. Sara likes to steal cars from old ladies. Anna sang at Sara's wedding. Sara votes Republican. Sara always ends up with the most absurd faces in photographs. Sara kicks my butt at Guitar Hero. She always has the latest video games. Her incidental husband loves video games so much that his groom's cake was decorated as an XBox. They live in Florida, which means there are a lot of old people from whom Sara can steal cars.
Sara works for a bank. She takes people's houses away. Basically, Sara is a meany who steals stuff.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Monday, September 28, 2009
Monday Bloody Monday
Bobbie walked into the office this morning, handed Daulton a box full of candy corn, and asked for $20 in quarters. I know she asked for $30 last week. I've kind of lost track of what she's needed for the month as a whole, but I'm pretty sure she's still on pace to outdo last month.
Daulton's birthday is Wednesday. I know this because he has told me that his birthday was coming up every single day since he started working here. He also wrote it in big letters on my desk calender.
Blue.
A lady (I think she's Mildred's daughter) came by to bring Mildred some groceries. I had Daulton help her carry them inside. She gave Daulton some banana muffins and a coke in return. He got the hookup today.
Anna met her sister for dinner tonight. I've never been to the place where they went, but apparently it just has a big mug of rootbeer for a sign. I guess this is appropriate since they brew their own rootbeer. I think Anna and Sarah had a good time.
When Anna came back, we decided to take Daisy over to in-laws. When we got to Anna's house, Anna was going to check their mail, as she usually does. The problem is that the window wouldn't roll down. We didn't give it too much thought, but when I pulled into the driveway and turned the car off, I saw the battery warning light come on on the dash. I decided to go ahead and see if I could turn on the car again. It did nothing. Fortunately, we were at the in-laws when it decided to die. But die it did. Anna's father says he can't be sure if it's the battery or the alternator. His guess is that it's the alternator. We drove their pickup home and left the Explorer attached to a charger so that the battery has enough juice to power us to a repair shop tomorrow.
Once we decided upon this solution, we we went ahead and sat around on the porch and chatted for awhile while Daisy and Lucy played. I threw the frisbee for Hank as well.
My butt itches.
Butt hair can tickle.
I don't really have much else to say.
Apartment related people: Pam
Pam is my boss. Pam replaced Shelly about a year ago. Pam is probably in her late thirties. She has bleached blond half spiky, half long hair (something kind of along the lines of the "Kate Gosselin" but not quite). She wears reading glasses to look at paperwork. She manages something like ten properties such as this one. She's very friendly. She's also very organized. She's rather obsessive-compulsive about organization. She loves to label things and organize paperwork. I do appreciate that she's not too anal about the mistakes of others (i.e. mine). She is also a little obsessive-compulsive about messes. There is a second office here that Karen used purely for storage. Pam made it clear that it bothered her a lot and also made it clear that she would appreciate it greatly if I did something with it. The same went for the other storage areas. Sometimes it's hard to get a hold of Pam. She is on the road a lot visiting her different properties, and when she is, it can be nigh on impossible to communicate with her. That's alright though. Everything (besides paperwork) seems pretty relaxed with Pam.
Daulton's birthday is Wednesday. I know this because he has told me that his birthday was coming up every single day since he started working here. He also wrote it in big letters on my desk calender.
Blue.
A lady (I think she's Mildred's daughter) came by to bring Mildred some groceries. I had Daulton help her carry them inside. She gave Daulton some banana muffins and a coke in return. He got the hookup today.
Anna met her sister for dinner tonight. I've never been to the place where they went, but apparently it just has a big mug of rootbeer for a sign. I guess this is appropriate since they brew their own rootbeer. I think Anna and Sarah had a good time.
When Anna came back, we decided to take Daisy over to in-laws. When we got to Anna's house, Anna was going to check their mail, as she usually does. The problem is that the window wouldn't roll down. We didn't give it too much thought, but when I pulled into the driveway and turned the car off, I saw the battery warning light come on on the dash. I decided to go ahead and see if I could turn on the car again. It did nothing. Fortunately, we were at the in-laws when it decided to die. But die it did. Anna's father says he can't be sure if it's the battery or the alternator. His guess is that it's the alternator. We drove their pickup home and left the Explorer attached to a charger so that the battery has enough juice to power us to a repair shop tomorrow.
Once we decided upon this solution, we we went ahead and sat around on the porch and chatted for awhile while Daisy and Lucy played. I threw the frisbee for Hank as well.
My butt itches.
Butt hair can tickle.
I don't really have much else to say.
Apartment related people: Pam
Pam is my boss. Pam replaced Shelly about a year ago. Pam is probably in her late thirties. She has bleached blond half spiky, half long hair (something kind of along the lines of the "Kate Gosselin" but not quite). She wears reading glasses to look at paperwork. She manages something like ten properties such as this one. She's very friendly. She's also very organized. She's rather obsessive-compulsive about organization. She loves to label things and organize paperwork. I do appreciate that she's not too anal about the mistakes of others (i.e. mine). She is also a little obsessive-compulsive about messes. There is a second office here that Karen used purely for storage. Pam made it clear that it bothered her a lot and also made it clear that she would appreciate it greatly if I did something with it. The same went for the other storage areas. Sometimes it's hard to get a hold of Pam. She is on the road a lot visiting her different properties, and when she is, it can be nigh on impossible to communicate with her. That's alright though. Everything (besides paperwork) seems pretty relaxed with Pam.
Sunday Not So Bloody Sunday
Anna took Zyrtec last night instead of Claritin. It made her sleep until noon. I'm pretty sure she wanted to sleep all day.
The Rockies-Cardinals game was on TBS today. I watched the first six innings. I would have watched the rest, but there was this concert thing.
This concert thing was in fact a free show by the Annie Moses Band at the First Christian Church in Columbus. Anna's aunt Donna called up last night and asked Anna if she wanted to go. Anna checked them out on youtube and decided it sounded like fun. It was in fact a good time. The band is composed of six children, two parents, and one Puerto Rican drummer. I believe the three oldest children are Julliard trained musicians. It showed. The whole family was very talented. The highlights of the concert were the instrumental pieces. The oldest daughter, Annie, does most of the singing, and as Anna said, technically she is very good but can't seem to decide whether she is singing classical or pop music. Her vibrato is distracting. Overall it was an entertaining time.
After the concert, we walked over to Dairy Queen. I had a Blizzard. Anna had a shake. Her aunt and uncle shared a Blizzard. Aunt Donna shared childhood stories about herself and Anna's mother, and uncle John carried on about his crazy and yet remarkably handsome identical twin brother.
When we came back, I ran to the computer to check the results of the Rockies and Broncos games. I am a happy fan for the evening. Now I just need the Braves to lose a few games and the Rockies to win out.
As far as the Broncos go, 3-0 is good, unless of course it is 3-0 against Cincinnati, Cleveland, and Oakland. That's meaningless. It'll get interesting in the coming weeks.
I washed the sheets in the guest bedroom during the Sunday night game. I put the comforter in one machine and the sheets in the other. There was a cat left in the lint trap of each dryer.
My bladder is protesting my determination to finish this post.
I'm protesting the lack of attention the Broncos get from ESPN. Now, I recognize that they are a terrible team that has been playing terrible teams, but I don't want to hear about Michael Vick or Brett Farve anymore. Pretty much, I never want to hear about either of them ever again.
I'm getting the munchies. Maybe my Blizzard was secretly loaded with marijuana.
Daisy gets stinky really quickly.
Chief shreds toilet paper.
Howie hates everything.
Sexy dark turquosiey "Euro-style" boxer brief things.
Anna has been talking about different ways to start to get to know people our age around here. This would probably be a good thing. I'm just going to be honest here and say that this would never have occurred to me. I would never have though, "hey, I don't know anybody. I should go meet some people." I'm pretty content just spending time with Anna. Maybe she's getting sick of spending time with me. Probably not. I'm just too amazing for that to be true.
It's almost deer season. I need to get my bow sighted in for broadheads, make sure my broadheads are all sharp, and oh yeah, find a place to kill something. I need to figure out if there are any portions of land around the in-laws property that aren't already being hunted. There are a ridiculous number of deer around there, but there are an equally ridiculous number of "hunters." And by "hunters," I mean landowners (who being "landowners," legally have the right to shoot as many deer as they wish without the need of a tag), who set up a stand over one of their fields and seeing as they are gun hunting and don't care what they shoot, end up killing a couple deer a week.
There's no art to that kind of hunting.
Is there a more annoying ESPN personality than Chris Berman?
I should also point out how grateful I am that John Madden has retired from announcing. Only Obama could spout more meaningless drivel than that man.
The Broncos play the Cowboys next Sunday. The TV listings claim that the game will actually be on here. It would be a million kinds of awesome if the Broncos could actually win that game. It would be a billion kinds of awesome if a Broncos win coincided with the Rockies clinching a playoff birth. It would be infinite kinds of awesome if the Rockies clinched a playoff birth well before Sunday.
On the list of things I would love ESPN to stop talking about, the Jets are quickly climbing.
My bladder continues to protest.
Another personality from Booth Manor: Karen
Karen is fifty-eight. She held the job I now hold for the first five years that Booth Manor existed. She left the job last fall for numerous reasons, only to allow herself to be drawn back in until a replacement could be found. She left for numerous reasons. The first major one being that she and her husband both are in declining health. The second major one being that her husbands declining health (due to Agent Orange exposure in Vietnam) has finally gotten the attention of the VFW and earned him full disability pay. This allowed them to purchase a house. Considering that the most appealing part of this job is the free apartment, it becomes pretty clear why she would leave. She smokes, though I don't think she smokes nearly as much as Katie or George. She does have a smokers cough and the tightly wrinkled face of a lifetime smoker. She talks about her "grandbabies" all the time. Because Karen was the first and only manager before me, I will constantly be compared to her by the residents. I don't think I'll have that problem with Pam, seeing as Pam has only been doing her particular job for a year. I do know from Pam, that Karen didn't really do any paperwork. I'm not sure who did. It also means that there are a lot of things in the tenant's files that I will need to fix. So each time a resident comes up for re-certification, I'll go through his or her file and make sure all the past paperwork is in order as well as taking care of the new stuff. Karen has been very nice though. She has made it very clear that if I need anything, I can call her. I have done this several times, and she has always been most helpful. The one thing she and Pam made clear when I first started was that I needed to not try to be friends with the residents and not allow them to abuse my presence. Apparently Karen would make change for residents at all hours of the night and respond to various other non-emergencies whenever a resident beckoned. This wore her out terribly. So far, I think I have succeeded in keeping the residents from abusing me, and I can't imagine how awful it would be if they thought they could come to me at all hours of the night for the most trivial of things.
The Rockies-Cardinals game was on TBS today. I watched the first six innings. I would have watched the rest, but there was this concert thing.
This concert thing was in fact a free show by the Annie Moses Band at the First Christian Church in Columbus. Anna's aunt Donna called up last night and asked Anna if she wanted to go. Anna checked them out on youtube and decided it sounded like fun. It was in fact a good time. The band is composed of six children, two parents, and one Puerto Rican drummer. I believe the three oldest children are Julliard trained musicians. It showed. The whole family was very talented. The highlights of the concert were the instrumental pieces. The oldest daughter, Annie, does most of the singing, and as Anna said, technically she is very good but can't seem to decide whether she is singing classical or pop music. Her vibrato is distracting. Overall it was an entertaining time.
After the concert, we walked over to Dairy Queen. I had a Blizzard. Anna had a shake. Her aunt and uncle shared a Blizzard. Aunt Donna shared childhood stories about herself and Anna's mother, and uncle John carried on about his crazy and yet remarkably handsome identical twin brother.
When we came back, I ran to the computer to check the results of the Rockies and Broncos games. I am a happy fan for the evening. Now I just need the Braves to lose a few games and the Rockies to win out.
As far as the Broncos go, 3-0 is good, unless of course it is 3-0 against Cincinnati, Cleveland, and Oakland. That's meaningless. It'll get interesting in the coming weeks.
I washed the sheets in the guest bedroom during the Sunday night game. I put the comforter in one machine and the sheets in the other. There was a cat left in the lint trap of each dryer.
My bladder is protesting my determination to finish this post.
I'm protesting the lack of attention the Broncos get from ESPN. Now, I recognize that they are a terrible team that has been playing terrible teams, but I don't want to hear about Michael Vick or Brett Farve anymore. Pretty much, I never want to hear about either of them ever again.
I'm getting the munchies. Maybe my Blizzard was secretly loaded with marijuana.
Daisy gets stinky really quickly.
Chief shreds toilet paper.
Howie hates everything.
Sexy dark turquosiey "Euro-style" boxer brief things.
Anna has been talking about different ways to start to get to know people our age around here. This would probably be a good thing. I'm just going to be honest here and say that this would never have occurred to me. I would never have though, "hey, I don't know anybody. I should go meet some people." I'm pretty content just spending time with Anna. Maybe she's getting sick of spending time with me. Probably not. I'm just too amazing for that to be true.
It's almost deer season. I need to get my bow sighted in for broadheads, make sure my broadheads are all sharp, and oh yeah, find a place to kill something. I need to figure out if there are any portions of land around the in-laws property that aren't already being hunted. There are a ridiculous number of deer around there, but there are an equally ridiculous number of "hunters." And by "hunters," I mean landowners (who being "landowners," legally have the right to shoot as many deer as they wish without the need of a tag), who set up a stand over one of their fields and seeing as they are gun hunting and don't care what they shoot, end up killing a couple deer a week.
There's no art to that kind of hunting.
Is there a more annoying ESPN personality than Chris Berman?
I should also point out how grateful I am that John Madden has retired from announcing. Only Obama could spout more meaningless drivel than that man.
The Broncos play the Cowboys next Sunday. The TV listings claim that the game will actually be on here. It would be a million kinds of awesome if the Broncos could actually win that game. It would be a billion kinds of awesome if a Broncos win coincided with the Rockies clinching a playoff birth. It would be infinite kinds of awesome if the Rockies clinched a playoff birth well before Sunday.
On the list of things I would love ESPN to stop talking about, the Jets are quickly climbing.
My bladder continues to protest.
Another personality from Booth Manor: Karen
Karen is fifty-eight. She held the job I now hold for the first five years that Booth Manor existed. She left the job last fall for numerous reasons, only to allow herself to be drawn back in until a replacement could be found. She left for numerous reasons. The first major one being that she and her husband both are in declining health. The second major one being that her husbands declining health (due to Agent Orange exposure in Vietnam) has finally gotten the attention of the VFW and earned him full disability pay. This allowed them to purchase a house. Considering that the most appealing part of this job is the free apartment, it becomes pretty clear why she would leave. She smokes, though I don't think she smokes nearly as much as Katie or George. She does have a smokers cough and the tightly wrinkled face of a lifetime smoker. She talks about her "grandbabies" all the time. Because Karen was the first and only manager before me, I will constantly be compared to her by the residents. I don't think I'll have that problem with Pam, seeing as Pam has only been doing her particular job for a year. I do know from Pam, that Karen didn't really do any paperwork. I'm not sure who did. It also means that there are a lot of things in the tenant's files that I will need to fix. So each time a resident comes up for re-certification, I'll go through his or her file and make sure all the past paperwork is in order as well as taking care of the new stuff. Karen has been very nice though. She has made it very clear that if I need anything, I can call her. I have done this several times, and she has always been most helpful. The one thing she and Pam made clear when I first started was that I needed to not try to be friends with the residents and not allow them to abuse my presence. Apparently Karen would make change for residents at all hours of the night and respond to various other non-emergencies whenever a resident beckoned. This wore her out terribly. So far, I think I have succeeded in keeping the residents from abusing me, and I can't imagine how awful it would be if they thought they could come to me at all hours of the night for the most trivial of things.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Waffles
We slept in a long time.
It's raining.
It's been raining all week.
We did a bunch of laundry.
We washed the dishes.
I made waffles.
We need a new waffle iron. This one doesn't get hot enough. It takes about twice as long to cook them as it should, and as a result, they don't come out with the texture they should possess.
Blue Taz in boxers patterned boxers. They are getting mighty holey.
The Rockies desperately need to win. The Giants have been losing, but suddenly, the Braves have climbed back into the picture. This isn't good for my heart.
Denver plays Oakland tomorrow.
We washed Daisy's bed, Anna's snuggie, and some blankets on which the cats have been lying. There was an incredible quantity of fur in the lint trap afterwards.
I should probably shave before church tomorrow.
I should probably wake up for church tomorrow.
We'll see if Anna's father makes any more mentions of grandchildren.
There's left over waffle batter in the refrigerator. It was taking too long to cook the waffles, so I saved the batter for a time when I had more patience.
Jerry and Nancy
Jerry and Nancy are the Majors at the Salvation Army. Jerry does indeed look like he's a military man, with his flat-top haircut. He also has spectacularly large nostrils. They aren't the wide gorilla style but the long witch nose style. Nancy is shorter than Anna. They are friendly but a little on the overwhelming side. They do a sermon every Thursday evening with a meal to entice people to come. We went once to appease Anna's grandmother. One of the biggest reasons we haven't gone back is that Jerry and Nancy would not stop talking to Anna about her singing or playing instruments at their services. They still mention it whenever I see them. We did go to a Sunday morning service one week because it was Anna's grandmother's birthday. I must say that it was a pretty foreign world to me. According to dear grandma, they used to work with prostitutes in Indianapolis (she said this like it was a bad thing). That's cool I guess. I just have a hard time picturing anybody, much less prostitutes, being willing to communicate with them. They are just too strange. As I said, they are nice enough people, but I do my best to avoid them.
It's raining.
It's been raining all week.
We did a bunch of laundry.
We washed the dishes.
I made waffles.
We need a new waffle iron. This one doesn't get hot enough. It takes about twice as long to cook them as it should, and as a result, they don't come out with the texture they should possess.
Blue Taz in boxers patterned boxers. They are getting mighty holey.
The Rockies desperately need to win. The Giants have been losing, but suddenly, the Braves have climbed back into the picture. This isn't good for my heart.
Denver plays Oakland tomorrow.
We washed Daisy's bed, Anna's snuggie, and some blankets on which the cats have been lying. There was an incredible quantity of fur in the lint trap afterwards.
I should probably shave before church tomorrow.
I should probably wake up for church tomorrow.
We'll see if Anna's father makes any more mentions of grandchildren.
There's left over waffle batter in the refrigerator. It was taking too long to cook the waffles, so I saved the batter for a time when I had more patience.
Jerry and Nancy
Jerry and Nancy are the Majors at the Salvation Army. Jerry does indeed look like he's a military man, with his flat-top haircut. He also has spectacularly large nostrils. They aren't the wide gorilla style but the long witch nose style. Nancy is shorter than Anna. They are friendly but a little on the overwhelming side. They do a sermon every Thursday evening with a meal to entice people to come. We went once to appease Anna's grandmother. One of the biggest reasons we haven't gone back is that Jerry and Nancy would not stop talking to Anna about her singing or playing instruments at their services. They still mention it whenever I see them. We did go to a Sunday morning service one week because it was Anna's grandmother's birthday. I must say that it was a pretty foreign world to me. According to dear grandma, they used to work with prostitutes in Indianapolis (she said this like it was a bad thing). That's cool I guess. I just have a hard time picturing anybody, much less prostitutes, being willing to communicate with them. They are just too strange. As I said, they are nice enough people, but I do my best to avoid them.
This is a Post
So for those of you who have been paying attention, you know that Beulah's son's funeral was yesterday. You also know that she asked me if she could use the Community Room for the funeral dinner. So yesterday morning, I made sure Daulton cleaned that room well. I made the mistake of explaining to Daulton why I wanted him to be extra thorough. It shouldn't have been a mistake, but with him apparently, it was. The first thing he did when he found out what he was doing is ask for a piece of paper. I handed him one. He proceeded to write out a note saying this "Please!!! Pick up any spills or food droppings. Thanks, Daulton." Obviously, I told him that he couldn't hang it up. Then, while he was vacuuming, we had this exact conversation: Daulton-"Will the dead guy be here?" Me-"No" Daulton-"Where will he be?" Me-"Buried in the ground" Daulton-"I wish he were going to be here. Don't you think that would be cool?" Me-"Not particularly."
I hadn't been out of the office long when I had a knock on my door. It was Beulah. Now, I don't fully understand what happened, but this is pretty much what she said to me, "We don't need the room. There isn't going to be a dinner. She told me there was, but it was all a lie. You did all you could." So I guess there wasn't a funeral dinner after all.
Today was relatively peaceful in the office. Daulton was pretty jittery but also fairly cooperative.
Marilyn did walk into the office within minutes of me being done of the day, to tell me that her keys were stuck in the side door and that the handle was stuck as well. I went and looked at it and sure enough, the handle was hanging limp and useless, and her keys were in no way close to coming out of the door. I recognized the problem with the door handle from a previous time when I had to call the lock smith. So this time I attempted to fix it myself before I made any calls. I simply got a screwdriver and started disassembling the lock. Needless to say, my astounding skills quickly solved the problem, the handle flipped back into place and the keys came out easily. I'm just that amazing.
It's been raining for the past week. This afternoon though, it was mostly just foggy.
Anna decided she wanted to take Daisy for a walk. We thought it would be cool to check out one of the local parks. So we headed over to Mill Race Park. I'd never been there. Anna had only been there to check out the Christmas light displays during the holidays. It turns out it's a pretty cool park. The Flatrock and Driftwood Rivers converge to form the east fork of the White River next to the park. There's this fancy sign marking this confluence. We saw it because we're that cool. We walked Daisy around the park a little bit. We didn't stay too long for fear that it would start raining heavier, but we'll definitely head back.
Red.
I finished re-watching the Lord of the Rings trilogy.
The Rockies need to keep winning, or they are going to let the playoffs slip away. If they were to fail to make the post-season, my life would be over.
Daisy decided to pee on our carpet last night. She hadn't had an accident in at least a couple weeks. It was sad.
We gave her a bath tonight. She gets really itchy which led Anna to try to find her an anti-itch shampoo. The shampoo we got makes her smell like herbs or more specifically, thyme and rosemary. It's weird.
I don't know what to do with myself right now. I don't really have much else to say.
I'm attempting to finish off this bottle of AriZona Pomegranate Green Tea. I'm not thirsty. I just don't feel like getting up and putting a bottle this close to empty back in the refrigerator.
I have a blanket on my legs. Anna likes it cold in here. I don't mind. Except sometimes, my legs and toes get cold, especially when it cools down outside and the air conditioner no longer has to fight the summer heat.
Well, I'm out of residents.
Let's start with other people around here that you might hear about.
Daulton
Daulton's pretty obvious. I know you hear about him a lot, but I couldn't talk about this place without talking about him. He's fourteen. He'll be fifteen next week. I don't think he has hit puberty. He talks about girls but in a way that makes me think he believes he is supposed to be talking about girls but doesn't really mean it yet. His family life hasn't been great, and all of his role models have been drug addicts and alcoholics. He was explaining to me the other day that he wanted to grow up, move out of the house, and start drinking. When I asked why he wanted to drink so bad, he essentially told me that that is what you're supposed to do when you grow up. Daulton likes (c)rap music. He thinks it makes him look tough. He desperately wants to be tough. He has to go to anger management twice a week. I think this is a very good thing. He talks constantly about fighting and hurting people. He's diagnosed as having ADHD. When he doesn't take his ritalin, you can tell. He's terrified of spiders. He is small enough that he gets beat up by eight-year old girls. He seems to have a huge problem with stealing and dishonesty. I had several PS2 games I knew I would never play, so I let him have them. His dad had to call and verify that Daulton didn't steal them from us. Daulton seems to like doing crosswords with me, though it mostly just serves as a demonstration of how poorly he reads and how small a vocabulary he possesses. An example from today: Solemn promise, three letters, vo_. Daulton doesn't know the word vow. Many times it's hard to make him understand the rules that govern crossword clues. I can't figure out whether or not he just doesn't understand that clues match their answers in tense or if he doesn't comprehend what what the past tense is. Mostly Daulton just makes me sad. He's made stupid choices, but at this point, I don't think he's a malicious kid. Sadly, I have no idea how to prevent him from growing up into a truly malicious adult.
I hadn't been out of the office long when I had a knock on my door. It was Beulah. Now, I don't fully understand what happened, but this is pretty much what she said to me, "We don't need the room. There isn't going to be a dinner. She told me there was, but it was all a lie. You did all you could." So I guess there wasn't a funeral dinner after all.
Today was relatively peaceful in the office. Daulton was pretty jittery but also fairly cooperative.
Marilyn did walk into the office within minutes of me being done of the day, to tell me that her keys were stuck in the side door and that the handle was stuck as well. I went and looked at it and sure enough, the handle was hanging limp and useless, and her keys were in no way close to coming out of the door. I recognized the problem with the door handle from a previous time when I had to call the lock smith. So this time I attempted to fix it myself before I made any calls. I simply got a screwdriver and started disassembling the lock. Needless to say, my astounding skills quickly solved the problem, the handle flipped back into place and the keys came out easily. I'm just that amazing.
It's been raining for the past week. This afternoon though, it was mostly just foggy.
Anna decided she wanted to take Daisy for a walk. We thought it would be cool to check out one of the local parks. So we headed over to Mill Race Park. I'd never been there. Anna had only been there to check out the Christmas light displays during the holidays. It turns out it's a pretty cool park. The Flatrock and Driftwood Rivers converge to form the east fork of the White River next to the park. There's this fancy sign marking this confluence. We saw it because we're that cool. We walked Daisy around the park a little bit. We didn't stay too long for fear that it would start raining heavier, but we'll definitely head back.
Red.
I finished re-watching the Lord of the Rings trilogy.
The Rockies need to keep winning, or they are going to let the playoffs slip away. If they were to fail to make the post-season, my life would be over.
Daisy decided to pee on our carpet last night. She hadn't had an accident in at least a couple weeks. It was sad.
We gave her a bath tonight. She gets really itchy which led Anna to try to find her an anti-itch shampoo. The shampoo we got makes her smell like herbs or more specifically, thyme and rosemary. It's weird.
I don't know what to do with myself right now. I don't really have much else to say.
I'm attempting to finish off this bottle of AriZona Pomegranate Green Tea. I'm not thirsty. I just don't feel like getting up and putting a bottle this close to empty back in the refrigerator.
I have a blanket on my legs. Anna likes it cold in here. I don't mind. Except sometimes, my legs and toes get cold, especially when it cools down outside and the air conditioner no longer has to fight the summer heat.
Well, I'm out of residents.
Let's start with other people around here that you might hear about.
Daulton
Daulton's pretty obvious. I know you hear about him a lot, but I couldn't talk about this place without talking about him. He's fourteen. He'll be fifteen next week. I don't think he has hit puberty. He talks about girls but in a way that makes me think he believes he is supposed to be talking about girls but doesn't really mean it yet. His family life hasn't been great, and all of his role models have been drug addicts and alcoholics. He was explaining to me the other day that he wanted to grow up, move out of the house, and start drinking. When I asked why he wanted to drink so bad, he essentially told me that that is what you're supposed to do when you grow up. Daulton likes (c)rap music. He thinks it makes him look tough. He desperately wants to be tough. He has to go to anger management twice a week. I think this is a very good thing. He talks constantly about fighting and hurting people. He's diagnosed as having ADHD. When he doesn't take his ritalin, you can tell. He's terrified of spiders. He is small enough that he gets beat up by eight-year old girls. He seems to have a huge problem with stealing and dishonesty. I had several PS2 games I knew I would never play, so I let him have them. His dad had to call and verify that Daulton didn't steal them from us. Daulton seems to like doing crosswords with me, though it mostly just serves as a demonstration of how poorly he reads and how small a vocabulary he possesses. An example from today: Solemn promise, three letters, vo_. Daulton doesn't know the word vow. Many times it's hard to make him understand the rules that govern crossword clues. I can't figure out whether or not he just doesn't understand that clues match their answers in tense or if he doesn't comprehend what what the past tense is. Mostly Daulton just makes me sad. He's made stupid choices, but at this point, I don't think he's a malicious kid. Sadly, I have no idea how to prevent him from growing up into a truly malicious adult.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
My Fingers Are a Little Cold and Stiff
I've decided to re-watch the "Lord of the Rings" films. I watched the first one tonight.
I went to Wal-Mart. I bought toilet paper, among other things.
Chief is the most absurd creature I have ever seen.
I enjoy hyperbole.
I had a dream about Daulton last night. He was trying to kill me. The quandary I had was how to stop him without actually hurting him because it seemed entirely unfair that I could break him in half so easily, and yet I couldn't just let him shoot me or something.
Anna's looking up persimmon recipes. There is a persimmon tree in her parent's front yard. The idea is that this year we actually do something with said persimmons. I don't even really know what a persimmon is.
I've got about a million episodes of "Good Eats" recorded on our dvr, and yet I still don't have the one episode I really want, where he makes chicken fried steak. I have the recipe itself, but I need to see him actually make it again because for some reason I don't think it's turning out quite right.
Anna did the dishes today. I dried them. We make an awfully good looking team.
Daisy needs to be fixed. Anna feels bad about putting her through that. It'll happen sometime soon.
Every month or so, some lady comes by the apartment and offers to administer various health tests to the residents. Today she came and tested their hemoglobin. Last month she tested blood pressure. Next month she is testing something else, but I can't remember what. I have a flyer though. Daulton wouldn't leave her alone. He wanted to know what everything was. He even asked if he could get tested. Either he has no idea when he is annoying people, or else he annoys people on purpose. I would say it is likely a combination of both.
I might go have some pudding.
This feels like a short post kind of night.
Sky blue and black striped boxer briefs.
On a sad note, Beulah's son passed away. As I understand it, it was an expected thing, but of course, it is still hard on her. As I was heading into the office this morning, she beckoned me over and talked to me a little bit. Mostly she wanted to ask if she could use the Community Room tomorrow for the funeral dinner. I said that of course she could. She also started talking to me about her sons truck. It would seem that she is in a fight with his friends over who now owns the truck. Beulah really seems determined to have it too. Her sons doesn't seem to have had a will, so I guess we'll see what happens.
Apartment 120: Beulah
Appropriately, we are on to Beulah today. She looks very old, with very white hair. She also had Parkinsons, and as a result, she shakes badly. I fill out her money orders for her each month because she shakes too badly to write. She tends to get upset about the doings of the other residents. Bobbie's nonsense chatter drives Beulah crazy because Bobbie a) can't mind her own business and b) never knows what she is talking about. Alice's children also really bother Beulah. "Bum, bum, bum, bum, bum" she tells me about them. Beulah's apartment is another one that I hate to visit. Unlike George and Katie, whose apartments reek obviously of cigarettes, I can't place the smell of Beulah's apartment. Whatever it is, it honest to goodness makes me want to vomit. It has a very rotten food quality to it, but somehow I think it's mixed with filthy litter box odors from her cat and possibly other stuff. Whatever it is, it leaks out into the hall and makes it unpleasant even to walk past her door. She does have people who visit her. There is one guy that I notice coming by a great deal. Beulah has referred to him as "the cripple," and I don't know what his real connection to her is. But he is obviously very handicapped. From the waste up, he seems to be alright, but both of his legs look undersized. He can only walk with the help of a cane in his left hand and his right hand on his right knee to keep the leg straight. Since her son passed away, I have seen a good deal of other people coming in and out. I don't know if they are his friends or her family or what. Some have been carrying papers and such. I think a lot of it has been funeral planning. Sometimes this job makes me sad.
I went to Wal-Mart. I bought toilet paper, among other things.
Chief is the most absurd creature I have ever seen.
I enjoy hyperbole.
I had a dream about Daulton last night. He was trying to kill me. The quandary I had was how to stop him without actually hurting him because it seemed entirely unfair that I could break him in half so easily, and yet I couldn't just let him shoot me or something.
Anna's looking up persimmon recipes. There is a persimmon tree in her parent's front yard. The idea is that this year we actually do something with said persimmons. I don't even really know what a persimmon is.
I've got about a million episodes of "Good Eats" recorded on our dvr, and yet I still don't have the one episode I really want, where he makes chicken fried steak. I have the recipe itself, but I need to see him actually make it again because for some reason I don't think it's turning out quite right.
Anna did the dishes today. I dried them. We make an awfully good looking team.
Daisy needs to be fixed. Anna feels bad about putting her through that. It'll happen sometime soon.
Every month or so, some lady comes by the apartment and offers to administer various health tests to the residents. Today she came and tested their hemoglobin. Last month she tested blood pressure. Next month she is testing something else, but I can't remember what. I have a flyer though. Daulton wouldn't leave her alone. He wanted to know what everything was. He even asked if he could get tested. Either he has no idea when he is annoying people, or else he annoys people on purpose. I would say it is likely a combination of both.
I might go have some pudding.
This feels like a short post kind of night.
Sky blue and black striped boxer briefs.
On a sad note, Beulah's son passed away. As I understand it, it was an expected thing, but of course, it is still hard on her. As I was heading into the office this morning, she beckoned me over and talked to me a little bit. Mostly she wanted to ask if she could use the Community Room tomorrow for the funeral dinner. I said that of course she could. She also started talking to me about her sons truck. It would seem that she is in a fight with his friends over who now owns the truck. Beulah really seems determined to have it too. Her sons doesn't seem to have had a will, so I guess we'll see what happens.
Apartment 120: Beulah
Appropriately, we are on to Beulah today. She looks very old, with very white hair. She also had Parkinsons, and as a result, she shakes badly. I fill out her money orders for her each month because she shakes too badly to write. She tends to get upset about the doings of the other residents. Bobbie's nonsense chatter drives Beulah crazy because Bobbie a) can't mind her own business and b) never knows what she is talking about. Alice's children also really bother Beulah. "Bum, bum, bum, bum, bum" she tells me about them. Beulah's apartment is another one that I hate to visit. Unlike George and Katie, whose apartments reek obviously of cigarettes, I can't place the smell of Beulah's apartment. Whatever it is, it honest to goodness makes me want to vomit. It has a very rotten food quality to it, but somehow I think it's mixed with filthy litter box odors from her cat and possibly other stuff. Whatever it is, it leaks out into the hall and makes it unpleasant even to walk past her door. She does have people who visit her. There is one guy that I notice coming by a great deal. Beulah has referred to him as "the cripple," and I don't know what his real connection to her is. But he is obviously very handicapped. From the waste up, he seems to be alright, but both of his legs look undersized. He can only walk with the help of a cane in his left hand and his right hand on his right knee to keep the leg straight. Since her son passed away, I have seen a good deal of other people coming in and out. I don't know if they are his friends or her family or what. Some have been carrying papers and such. I think a lot of it has been funeral planning. Sometimes this job makes me sad.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Drama
Daulton walked into the office visibly upset this morning. Naturally, I completely ignored it and made him work his fingers to the bone.
I'm lying.
He was really upset at this step-father and at how Daulton's step-father treats Daulton's mother. I didn't make him do any work today and mostly just sat and talked to him. He wouldn't calm down and eventually got himself so upset that he started puking (I would bet he made himself on purpose, but who am I to argue?). I let him call his dad and go home early. We'll see what happens tomorrow.
While I was in the office, Bonnie came by with a letter from Social Security informing her that her benefits were dropping by nearly $100 a month. I quickly forwarded this on to my boss so that we can get her rent rate adjusted.
I was counting out another $20 in change for Bobbie, when Bonnie came in with her sister. I recalled Bobbie's comment the other day about Bonnie not being friendly, so I watched them closely. They did seem rather cool towards each other. After Bobbie left, Judy asked me if I knew about Bonnie and Bobbie's "feud." I said that I didn't. So Bonnie explained that a few days ago, Bobbie straight up walked into Bonnie's apartment, while she was taking a nap. Bonnie told me that she proceeded to explain to Bobbie that she should never do that again. So now there is old lady drama in the complex. Yay.
Anna went out to lunch with her friend Chelsey. They talked about babies and music.
It rained a whole bunch this evening.
Daisy does not like the rain.
Daisy has had an abnormally large quantity of poop today.
Chief crawled under the covers and took a nap with me.
Camouflage.
The Rockies really need to keep winning. If they start losing again, I'll have a hernia.
My butt itches.
I should clean out the litter box.
Anna makes me smile.
The couch we have is really squishy, and when Anna sits on it with her snuggie on and her computer in front of her, she appears to have no legs. She looks like a torso embedded in the couch.
I took about three different naps today. When I first left the office I feel asleep but woke up when Anna left to go meet Chelsey. I read a little more and then fell asleep again. I woke again when Anna came home from lunch and went back to sleep after I had eaten my dinner. It's alright. I should still be able to fall asleep by my 4 a.m. bedtime.
Yet again, I'm following the ESPN gamecast of the Rockies' game. When a ball is put in play, a little animated baseball flies through the air to simulate where on the field it was hit. I like to guess from the flight of the ball, whether or not it will result in a hit. I honestly don't know if there is any difference between the two, but sometimes it sure seems like there is.
Well, I'm going to go clean the litter box after I give you another resident.
Apartment 119: Katie
Anna thought Katie was a man the first time she saw her. Katie has extremely short gray hair and wears baggy t-shirts and what look like a mix between capris and scrubs for pants. She shuffles along in little house shoes, usually with a cigarette between her lips and a can of root beer in her hand. The cigarette and the root beer are key. All she does all day is sit and smoke and drink root beer, whether it is in front of the entrance with George, in her apartment with George, or in George's apartment with George. I have no idea how old Katie is. She looks to be near 80, but the cigarettes have made it impossible to tell. Her eyes are so bloodshot and oddly shaped, that it looks as though they are about to melt out of her head. She is only slightly easier to understand than George when she talks. She can't read. I've been told she's actually thrown away her SS checks before because she couldn't read what they said. I didn't know this when I started her recertification. So when I asked her for some paperwork, she simply brought a big tupperware container containing all sorts of stuff that her daughters had thrown in there for her. There was everything from government stuff to obituaries. Katie thinks Daulton's haircut looks funny, and she isn't shy telling him. Katie is also practically deaf. Even if she is wearing her hearing aid, you have to yell at her for her to understand you. Several times, she's walked past the office to go smoke with her hearing aid screaming the last of its batter away, and she has remained completely oblivious. I don't know if it's the smoking or the inability to hear herself or what, but she also grunts a lot and makes strange sounds in her chest and throat. Katie is the lady who had twice had me replace perfectly good light bulbs. I hate doing it. I can't stand being in her apartment. The instant I walk in, my eyes start burning, and I discover why her eyes always look like they are about to melt out of her head. Katie has three daughters. Two of them live near enough to come see her regularly. One of them comes fairly often and looks like someone permanently dislocated her jaw. The other one, I have only seen once, when she came to give me some of her mother's paperwork. She looked like she'd just as soon punch someone as talk to them. I hope I'm gone from this place before I have to do any sort of clean up in Katie's apartment. That sounds like about the worst thing ever. I honest to goodness would wear a mask into her apartment, if I wasn't afraid of hurting her feelings.
I'm lying.
He was really upset at this step-father and at how Daulton's step-father treats Daulton's mother. I didn't make him do any work today and mostly just sat and talked to him. He wouldn't calm down and eventually got himself so upset that he started puking (I would bet he made himself on purpose, but who am I to argue?). I let him call his dad and go home early. We'll see what happens tomorrow.
While I was in the office, Bonnie came by with a letter from Social Security informing her that her benefits were dropping by nearly $100 a month. I quickly forwarded this on to my boss so that we can get her rent rate adjusted.
I was counting out another $20 in change for Bobbie, when Bonnie came in with her sister. I recalled Bobbie's comment the other day about Bonnie not being friendly, so I watched them closely. They did seem rather cool towards each other. After Bobbie left, Judy asked me if I knew about Bonnie and Bobbie's "feud." I said that I didn't. So Bonnie explained that a few days ago, Bobbie straight up walked into Bonnie's apartment, while she was taking a nap. Bonnie told me that she proceeded to explain to Bobbie that she should never do that again. So now there is old lady drama in the complex. Yay.
Anna went out to lunch with her friend Chelsey. They talked about babies and music.
It rained a whole bunch this evening.
Daisy does not like the rain.
Daisy has had an abnormally large quantity of poop today.
Chief crawled under the covers and took a nap with me.
Camouflage.
The Rockies really need to keep winning. If they start losing again, I'll have a hernia.
My butt itches.
I should clean out the litter box.
Anna makes me smile.
The couch we have is really squishy, and when Anna sits on it with her snuggie on and her computer in front of her, she appears to have no legs. She looks like a torso embedded in the couch.
I took about three different naps today. When I first left the office I feel asleep but woke up when Anna left to go meet Chelsey. I read a little more and then fell asleep again. I woke again when Anna came home from lunch and went back to sleep after I had eaten my dinner. It's alright. I should still be able to fall asleep by my 4 a.m. bedtime.
Yet again, I'm following the ESPN gamecast of the Rockies' game. When a ball is put in play, a little animated baseball flies through the air to simulate where on the field it was hit. I like to guess from the flight of the ball, whether or not it will result in a hit. I honestly don't know if there is any difference between the two, but sometimes it sure seems like there is.
Well, I'm going to go clean the litter box after I give you another resident.
Apartment 119: Katie
Anna thought Katie was a man the first time she saw her. Katie has extremely short gray hair and wears baggy t-shirts and what look like a mix between capris and scrubs for pants. She shuffles along in little house shoes, usually with a cigarette between her lips and a can of root beer in her hand. The cigarette and the root beer are key. All she does all day is sit and smoke and drink root beer, whether it is in front of the entrance with George, in her apartment with George, or in George's apartment with George. I have no idea how old Katie is. She looks to be near 80, but the cigarettes have made it impossible to tell. Her eyes are so bloodshot and oddly shaped, that it looks as though they are about to melt out of her head. She is only slightly easier to understand than George when she talks. She can't read. I've been told she's actually thrown away her SS checks before because she couldn't read what they said. I didn't know this when I started her recertification. So when I asked her for some paperwork, she simply brought a big tupperware container containing all sorts of stuff that her daughters had thrown in there for her. There was everything from government stuff to obituaries. Katie thinks Daulton's haircut looks funny, and she isn't shy telling him. Katie is also practically deaf. Even if she is wearing her hearing aid, you have to yell at her for her to understand you. Several times, she's walked past the office to go smoke with her hearing aid screaming the last of its batter away, and she has remained completely oblivious. I don't know if it's the smoking or the inability to hear herself or what, but she also grunts a lot and makes strange sounds in her chest and throat. Katie is the lady who had twice had me replace perfectly good light bulbs. I hate doing it. I can't stand being in her apartment. The instant I walk in, my eyes start burning, and I discover why her eyes always look like they are about to melt out of her head. Katie has three daughters. Two of them live near enough to come see her regularly. One of them comes fairly often and looks like someone permanently dislocated her jaw. The other one, I have only seen once, when she came to give me some of her mother's paperwork. She looked like she'd just as soon punch someone as talk to them. I hope I'm gone from this place before I have to do any sort of clean up in Katie's apartment. That sounds like about the worst thing ever. I honest to goodness would wear a mask into her apartment, if I wasn't afraid of hurting her feelings.
I'm Sitting With My Head Cocked to the Side, Trying to Think of a Title
If you haven't seen garfieldminusgarfield.net, you need to look at it now. It is genius.
It's been a good couple days for the Hoff family, sports wise.
Yesterday was "Homecoming" at Brown's Corner. Anna's father found the opportunity to say this during the sermon, "Maybe someday I will have grandchildren myself. Hint, Hint." Anna's response: "Awkward."
After the service, there was a pot-luck (or as these silly Hoosiers call it, a "pitch-in"). The thing about these Hoosier pot-lucks is that the church always provides fried chicken. Apparently this is the only main dish allowed at a church gathering in Indiana.
After the pot-luck, a guy played the piano and another guy sang. The guy who played the piano also played a couple songs on the accordion. I have no idea who these guys were. They don't go to the church. I also didn't know any of the songs they sang. In fact, the only thing a recognized was a rendition of "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" on the accordion.
I keep burping up my dinner. I hate aftertastes. It doesn't matter how good it tasted the first time. I don't enjoy an encore. Ask Anna how she feels about burping stuff up....
After the entertainment yesterday, we came back here for a short time before I headed off to BW3s to catch the Donkey game. I still insist the Broncos suck. They beat the Bengals and the Browns. Throw in the Lions, and you would have a trifecta of terrible.
Two more weeks of regular season baseball....
A shower is crucial to my existence this evening.
Anyone ever hear of the "It was a dark and stormy night" contest? I'd heard of it before, but it was brought to my attention again last night.
http://www.bulwer-lytton.com/ Go to the website. Check it out for yourself. For those of you too lazy to check it out yourself, the whole contest is simply an attempt to see who can write the worst possible opening line to a hypothetical novel. Look at the litany of past winners for examples. The awesomeness of this is unbelievable. Sadly, the 09 contest is over, but I'm now hard at work on entries for the 2010 deadline.
Scott came over to hang out this afternoon. I have a feeling he was just really bored. We mostly just played Guitar Hero. We did ask him about Daulton, since Daulton seems to think that he spends all sorts of time with Scott. Scott's reaction was essentially, "that kid is crazy." He also said something that backed up something I had felt since Daulton started coming. He said that he had been at the mall once with him, and he would talk to everybody in the place for no reason at all. And he would just keep talking. I had noticed myself that Daulton had no restraint about talking to anybody around the complex about anything. I didn't say anything about it because he does in fact work here now, but it always felt that he was stretching the boundaries of accepted social mores. He starts conversations with all sorts of people that normal people would just leave be.
I asked Daulton how his weekend was and he gave me a fifteen minute, detailed description of every single little thing he did from the moment he left the office Friday to the moment he walked in this morning.
I grilled chicken two ways tonight. I had some chicken thighs, and I seasoned some up Mexican style so that Anna could have tacos. The rest, I quickly marinated in some soy sauce and Dr. Pepper. I'm converting to chicken thighs whenever possible. I am also an amazingly awesome cook.
Anna and I watched the Monday Night Football game tonight. She tied a bandana around Daisy's neck to get her festivised.
Daisy went crazy on Scott.
I decided to take a little nap before the game started. I awoke to Anna shouting at the tv in excitement. I missed Manning throwing a long TD to Clark.
I hate off days in baseball.
Well, since I missed yesterday, today will be another twofer.
Aparment 117: Bonnie (When I moved in, it was Pearl)
Bonnie is probably in her sixties. She is very tiny. She is dying of bone cancer. I'm not sure of her prognosis, but I do know that it isn't good. When I came to work here, Bonnie was moving out of apartment 109. She had moved into 109 just the year before with her sister Judy (108) moving in next door. Bonnie had a daughter (I think, I'm not sure. I do know it was a relative.) who wanted to take her in so she agreed to move out. This didn't last long at all. When Pearl announced she was moving out, Judy quickly came to me and asked if Bonnie could apply to move back in. According to Bonnie, whoever this relative was had lost there job and was being a real pain in the butt. I guess it turned into a bad situation really quickly. So she is now back here. Bonnie is very very sweet. She's very soft spoken and very kind. It makes me incredibly sad that she has cancer.
Apartment 118: Della
Della is another extremely tiny old lady, tinier than most. She might top 90lbs. She is probably in her early seventies and has silver curly hair. I think she was once probably very beautiful. She watched her granddaughter all the time during the summer. Her granddaughter has now just started kindergarten, and I think this makes Della very sad. She is one of the residents that pretty much keeps to herself, but she is very very nice to me. Anna met her the other day and loved her. The placement of her apartment puts her at the end of a wing, far away from my office and right next to the parking lot, so that if she ever comes out of her apartment, I never see it.
It's been a good couple days for the Hoff family, sports wise.
Yesterday was "Homecoming" at Brown's Corner. Anna's father found the opportunity to say this during the sermon, "Maybe someday I will have grandchildren myself. Hint, Hint." Anna's response: "Awkward."
After the service, there was a pot-luck (or as these silly Hoosiers call it, a "pitch-in"). The thing about these Hoosier pot-lucks is that the church always provides fried chicken. Apparently this is the only main dish allowed at a church gathering in Indiana.
After the pot-luck, a guy played the piano and another guy sang. The guy who played the piano also played a couple songs on the accordion. I have no idea who these guys were. They don't go to the church. I also didn't know any of the songs they sang. In fact, the only thing a recognized was a rendition of "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" on the accordion.
I keep burping up my dinner. I hate aftertastes. It doesn't matter how good it tasted the first time. I don't enjoy an encore. Ask Anna how she feels about burping stuff up....
After the entertainment yesterday, we came back here for a short time before I headed off to BW3s to catch the Donkey game. I still insist the Broncos suck. They beat the Bengals and the Browns. Throw in the Lions, and you would have a trifecta of terrible.
Two more weeks of regular season baseball....
A shower is crucial to my existence this evening.
Anyone ever hear of the "It was a dark and stormy night" contest? I'd heard of it before, but it was brought to my attention again last night.
http://www.bulwer-lytton.com/ Go to the website. Check it out for yourself. For those of you too lazy to check it out yourself, the whole contest is simply an attempt to see who can write the worst possible opening line to a hypothetical novel. Look at the litany of past winners for examples. The awesomeness of this is unbelievable. Sadly, the 09 contest is over, but I'm now hard at work on entries for the 2010 deadline.
Scott came over to hang out this afternoon. I have a feeling he was just really bored. We mostly just played Guitar Hero. We did ask him about Daulton, since Daulton seems to think that he spends all sorts of time with Scott. Scott's reaction was essentially, "that kid is crazy." He also said something that backed up something I had felt since Daulton started coming. He said that he had been at the mall once with him, and he would talk to everybody in the place for no reason at all. And he would just keep talking. I had noticed myself that Daulton had no restraint about talking to anybody around the complex about anything. I didn't say anything about it because he does in fact work here now, but it always felt that he was stretching the boundaries of accepted social mores. He starts conversations with all sorts of people that normal people would just leave be.
I asked Daulton how his weekend was and he gave me a fifteen minute, detailed description of every single little thing he did from the moment he left the office Friday to the moment he walked in this morning.
I grilled chicken two ways tonight. I had some chicken thighs, and I seasoned some up Mexican style so that Anna could have tacos. The rest, I quickly marinated in some soy sauce and Dr. Pepper. I'm converting to chicken thighs whenever possible. I am also an amazingly awesome cook.
Anna and I watched the Monday Night Football game tonight. She tied a bandana around Daisy's neck to get her festivised.
Daisy went crazy on Scott.
I decided to take a little nap before the game started. I awoke to Anna shouting at the tv in excitement. I missed Manning throwing a long TD to Clark.
I hate off days in baseball.
Well, since I missed yesterday, today will be another twofer.
Aparment 117: Bonnie (When I moved in, it was Pearl)
Bonnie is probably in her sixties. She is very tiny. She is dying of bone cancer. I'm not sure of her prognosis, but I do know that it isn't good. When I came to work here, Bonnie was moving out of apartment 109. She had moved into 109 just the year before with her sister Judy (108) moving in next door. Bonnie had a daughter (I think, I'm not sure. I do know it was a relative.) who wanted to take her in so she agreed to move out. This didn't last long at all. When Pearl announced she was moving out, Judy quickly came to me and asked if Bonnie could apply to move back in. According to Bonnie, whoever this relative was had lost there job and was being a real pain in the butt. I guess it turned into a bad situation really quickly. So she is now back here. Bonnie is very very sweet. She's very soft spoken and very kind. It makes me incredibly sad that she has cancer.
Apartment 118: Della
Della is another extremely tiny old lady, tinier than most. She might top 90lbs. She is probably in her early seventies and has silver curly hair. I think she was once probably very beautiful. She watched her granddaughter all the time during the summer. Her granddaughter has now just started kindergarten, and I think this makes Della very sad. She is one of the residents that pretty much keeps to herself, but she is very very nice to me. Anna met her the other day and loved her. The placement of her apartment puts her at the end of a wing, far away from my office and right next to the parking lot, so that if she ever comes out of her apartment, I never see it.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Anna.
Then we found this tiny shed.
It was next to this barn.
Which was next to this old truck.
Moooo.
I would have loved these hay bales when I was little. Our neighbor had a bunch of them in their fields and my sister and I used to go down there and jump them. Sometimes our dog would play up there with us. End of story.
Geneva township has a "rec. center." It's really just a tiny ball field. I like it.
Next to the rec. center is this amazing blue bus.
And this is where my kindergarten teacher lives. It was one of three houses built by two brothers in Scipio. They are famous in Southern Indiana for the role they played in the underground railroad.
This is the new store in Scipio. The "Country Meat Market."
This used to be a church. Then it turned into a meth lab. It exploded.
This is the Scipio covered bridge. We used to go over it every day on the bus.
And then we went down this gravel road.
I think there was also a meth lab in this barn. Maybe not. But I think it's pretty.
There was also a meth lab in this field. Kidding. But there's a huge bull. He always looks angry.
I like this windmill. And those bird houses. I used to walk in this field with my mom, sister, and neighbors looking for dried cow patties for the garden. I didn't understand the "dry" concept. I also wanted to get a bunch of moss from this field and put it in the bottom of the tree house for carpet. I told you I was a stupid little girl.
We took a few pictures on our way from Brown's Corner to Mom and Dad's house. Thought you might like to see.
We found this cool barn. The "eyes" at the top make me want to paint a smiley face on it.
Then we found this tiny shed.
It was next to this barn.
Which was next to this old truck.
Moooo.
I would have loved these hay bales when I was little. Our neighbor had a bunch of them in their fields and my sister and I used to go down there and jump them. Sometimes our dog would play up there with us. End of story.
Geneva township has a "rec. center." It's really just a tiny ball field. I like it.
Next to the rec. center is this amazing blue bus.
And this is where my kindergarten teacher lives. It was one of three houses built by two brothers in Scipio. They are famous in Southern Indiana for the role they played in the underground railroad.
This is the new store in Scipio. The "Country Meat Market."
This used to be a church. Then it turned into a meth lab. It exploded.
This is the Scipio covered bridge. We used to go over it every day on the bus.
And then we went down this gravel road.
I think there was also a meth lab in this barn. Maybe not. But I think it's pretty.
There was also a meth lab in this field. Kidding. But there's a huge bull. He always looks angry.
I like this windmill. And those bird houses. I used to walk in this field with my mom, sister, and neighbors looking for dried cow patties for the garden. I didn't understand the "dry" concept. I also wanted to get a bunch of moss from this field and put it in the bottom of the tree house for carpet. I told you I was a stupid little girl.
Anna.
Welcome to Brown's Corner Chapel. It's really kind of in the middle of a bunch of cornfields, and when the corn is high, you'll miss it. You can find it here:
It looks like this.
It was built then.
The sanctuary looks like this.
The porch looks like this. This is where the women's bathroom is. Just kidding. Dad and our good friend Bob were redoing the bathroom for homecoming, so here sits toilet.
This is the wall in one of the Sunday School rooms. Which story is this, boys and girls?
Looking out the one of the Sunday School room windows. There used to be outhouses out there somewhere, but they tore them down. That's sad.
This is the bell that Shannon rings when Sunday School is over. I always wanted to ring it when I was little. Maybe I'll get to ring it one of these days.
I think this sign is fun.
I also like this. It really is Mark Hammel and "Brown's Corner Chapel," but I like mistakes. I also like orchids.
This is part of the basement. There's also a small kitchen down here.
This is the other part of the basement. There are all kinds of exciting things hiding down here. I may or may not have gone through a lot of the Vacation Bible School things and found a bubble machine.
This is the door from the basement. (Really, Anna? Really.) Geoffrey thinks it's creepy. I think it's fun.
The great big tree by the church has a lot of acorns. I remember trying to eat one when I was little. I think I was stupid. Bye bye, Browns Corner!
One more before I go. :)
Just Sitting Here, Doling Out Wisdom
My bellybutton smells funny.
I shaved last night.
I woke up this morning to Anna yelling, "we have to clean the apartment now! Melissa is going to be here in fifteen minutes." So I got up and helped her clean the apartment. It wasn't that messy, but we did vacuum and do the dishes. Melissa didn't even come inside. She just brought Rambo (her corgi) to play with Daisy for a second. So they played outside for a few minutes before she headed back to Indianapolis. It was a very short visit.
At least our apartment is clean.
I was stalking some high school friends on facebook and realized that I have some weird friends. And my weird friends have weirder friends. How do I know they are weird? Because they look weird. I don't know anything about these people other than what their faces tell me. It's astounding how much a face can tell you. Sometimes you can judge a book by its cover (just picture Fabio on the cover, and you'll know what I mean).
The Rockies really need a win tonight.
The Broncos are actually favored to win tomorrow. This almost assures that they will lose. Once again, I will be obligated to watch the game from a stool in BW3s because I live in Indiana. Oh well, at least I will get my fix of hot wings for the week.
Many predict that the Ravens will take down the Chargers. I hope so. That combined with a Broncos win would give Denver lone possession of first in the AFC West. This would be the only time that will happen all year. It would be nice to see.
Tomorrow is what is known as "Homecoming" at Brown's Corner. I believe this means that anyone even faintly affiliated with the church ever has been invited to come. Who knows? Attendance might reach the wild heights of forty people.
Anna and I went on a date this afternoon to a little place called "Papa's Grill." I'd never been. Anna had been once. She told me that they had the best fries ever. I must say, they were good freedom fries (there ain't no dirty Frenchy loving here). As it turns out, Anna knew our waitress both from high school and from a church a long time ago. This wasn't a bad thing because, according to Anna, this girl is very nice. She seemed nice. Anna made sure I gave her a big tip. Anna had a chicken "fajita pita." She really enjoyed it. I let out my inner woman and had a salad. But it was a manly buffalo chicken salad. It's not really woman food if it has fried chicken, buffalo sauce, bacon, and chipotle ranch dressing involved.
I'm following the ESPN gamecast for the Rockies game, and it is doing that thing again, where it tells me the players stats ahead of showing me their at-bat (i.e. Seth Smith just flew out, but I knew he would because it already showed that he was 0-2 on the day). The Rockies do currently lead 2-0, both runs coming on homeruns. The last three outs they recorded were on fly balls. I have a feeling there will be more longballs before this game is through.
I am absolutely blasting Project 86 through my headphones. They have the ability, similar to Tool, to draw you slowly into a song and build the intensity until the song concludes, and you are breathless, begging for more.
I shouldn't have mentioned that thing about the Rockies and the longball. They now trail 3-2 on a three-run homerun.
Anna is wanting some dinner, so I guess it's time to give you another tenant.
Apartment 116: Bobbie
I know Bobbie is 75 because she told me. She is not a little old lady. She's actually kind of tall, though she walks pretty bent over. Bobbie's hair defines a "bowl cut." Heck, I'd almost bet that she cuts her hair herself and literally uses a bowl as a guide. Her hair is very salt and pepper. Bobbie has very large, heavy features. She's also crazy, as you may have gathered. When we first moved into this place, she thought Anna's mother was my wife and then told her she looked "different in your britches." You know of her love for quarters so she can "finish up [her] warshin'." She is always going on about cleaning of some sort or another. She keeps telling me that "people should just pick up after themselves." I mentioned the time she flipped out because someone hadn't removed lint from the lint trap in the dryer. She always says to Daulton, "you sure are pretty." Apparently, she was married once but says that she's had enough of men. Her father was convinced she would be a boy, so he named her Bobby. When she was born, they decided "Bobbie" was a feminized enough version of that name. Bobbie goes to the Lakeview Church of Christ. I know this because she always tells me this as well. She also tells me that she is the only person there that goes to church and that she wants to go to Heaven when she dies. She gets things mixed up pretty easily, so that I don't trust her if she is my only source for information. She saw in the newspaper once that Columbus was going to start charging more a month for garbage pickup. She took this to mean that the residents would have to start paying to put money in the dumpster, and she spread this all over the building, enough so that I had to calm down several residents and assure them they weren't being charged for their garbage. I'm sure you'll keep hearing about Bobbie. I certainly see her more than any other resident. So I don't think I need to say much more about her now.
I shaved last night.
I woke up this morning to Anna yelling, "we have to clean the apartment now! Melissa is going to be here in fifteen minutes." So I got up and helped her clean the apartment. It wasn't that messy, but we did vacuum and do the dishes. Melissa didn't even come inside. She just brought Rambo (her corgi) to play with Daisy for a second. So they played outside for a few minutes before she headed back to Indianapolis. It was a very short visit.
At least our apartment is clean.
I was stalking some high school friends on facebook and realized that I have some weird friends. And my weird friends have weirder friends. How do I know they are weird? Because they look weird. I don't know anything about these people other than what their faces tell me. It's astounding how much a face can tell you. Sometimes you can judge a book by its cover (just picture Fabio on the cover, and you'll know what I mean).
The Rockies really need a win tonight.
The Broncos are actually favored to win tomorrow. This almost assures that they will lose. Once again, I will be obligated to watch the game from a stool in BW3s because I live in Indiana. Oh well, at least I will get my fix of hot wings for the week.
Many predict that the Ravens will take down the Chargers. I hope so. That combined with a Broncos win would give Denver lone possession of first in the AFC West. This would be the only time that will happen all year. It would be nice to see.
Tomorrow is what is known as "Homecoming" at Brown's Corner. I believe this means that anyone even faintly affiliated with the church ever has been invited to come. Who knows? Attendance might reach the wild heights of forty people.
Anna and I went on a date this afternoon to a little place called "Papa's Grill." I'd never been. Anna had been once. She told me that they had the best fries ever. I must say, they were good freedom fries (there ain't no dirty Frenchy loving here). As it turns out, Anna knew our waitress both from high school and from a church a long time ago. This wasn't a bad thing because, according to Anna, this girl is very nice. She seemed nice. Anna made sure I gave her a big tip. Anna had a chicken "fajita pita." She really enjoyed it. I let out my inner woman and had a salad. But it was a manly buffalo chicken salad. It's not really woman food if it has fried chicken, buffalo sauce, bacon, and chipotle ranch dressing involved.
I'm following the ESPN gamecast for the Rockies game, and it is doing that thing again, where it tells me the players stats ahead of showing me their at-bat (i.e. Seth Smith just flew out, but I knew he would because it already showed that he was 0-2 on the day). The Rockies do currently lead 2-0, both runs coming on homeruns. The last three outs they recorded were on fly balls. I have a feeling there will be more longballs before this game is through.
I am absolutely blasting Project 86 through my headphones. They have the ability, similar to Tool, to draw you slowly into a song and build the intensity until the song concludes, and you are breathless, begging for more.
I shouldn't have mentioned that thing about the Rockies and the longball. They now trail 3-2 on a three-run homerun.
Anna is wanting some dinner, so I guess it's time to give you another tenant.
Apartment 116: Bobbie
I know Bobbie is 75 because she told me. She is not a little old lady. She's actually kind of tall, though she walks pretty bent over. Bobbie's hair defines a "bowl cut." Heck, I'd almost bet that she cuts her hair herself and literally uses a bowl as a guide. Her hair is very salt and pepper. Bobbie has very large, heavy features. She's also crazy, as you may have gathered. When we first moved into this place, she thought Anna's mother was my wife and then told her she looked "different in your britches." You know of her love for quarters so she can "finish up [her] warshin'." She is always going on about cleaning of some sort or another. She keeps telling me that "people should just pick up after themselves." I mentioned the time she flipped out because someone hadn't removed lint from the lint trap in the dryer. She always says to Daulton, "you sure are pretty." Apparently, she was married once but says that she's had enough of men. Her father was convinced she would be a boy, so he named her Bobby. When she was born, they decided "Bobbie" was a feminized enough version of that name. Bobbie goes to the Lakeview Church of Christ. I know this because she always tells me this as well. She also tells me that she is the only person there that goes to church and that she wants to go to Heaven when she dies. She gets things mixed up pretty easily, so that I don't trust her if she is my only source for information. She saw in the newspaper once that Columbus was going to start charging more a month for garbage pickup. She took this to mean that the residents would have to start paying to put money in the dumpster, and she spread this all over the building, enough so that I had to calm down several residents and assure them they weren't being charged for their garbage. I'm sure you'll keep hearing about Bobbie. I certainly see her more than any other resident. So I don't think I need to say much more about her now.
Paper Cuts are Horrible
I have a papercut on the end of my thumb. I might die.
I got the papercut when I reached inside an envelope from Dell, containing all the install cds for Anna's computer.
When I first got into the office, Bobbie came by and asked if she could place a vase full of horrible fake flowers in my office window. Obviously, I said she could. So there is now a hideous vase of flowers sitting on the window sill in my office.
Daulton showed up today. Apparently, he was having a psych evaluation yesterday. He said he didn't want to talk about it.
Daulton met one of Alice's grandsons today. They were trading stories about spending time in jail. I don't have a good feeling about this.
I made grilled cheeses for lunch. While I was eating my grilled cheese, there was a knock on the door. One of Alice's other relatives wanted me to know that George had lost his cane. Roughly two minutes later, there was another knock on the door. George wanted me to know that he had lost his cane. I finished my sandwich and then went to look for his cane. I didn't find it. I hope he did. I hope Daulton didn't take it.
Anna is really cute.
I went to Wal-Mart tonight. I got things like paper towels and tissues and bandaids to go with the milk and chicken and other food related things. I should start bringing a camera and taking pictures so I can submit them to that peopleofwalmart website.
While at Wal-Mart, I decided to solve a mystery that has plagued me for years. I wanted to know what the difference was between the chocolate chip cookie recipes on the backs of Tollhouse chocolate chips and Hershey's chocolate chips. The answer is a half teaspoon of salt. There is a whole teaspoon in the Tollhouse recipe and a half in the Hershey recipe. I guess that's enough for Hershey to not infringe on Nestle's rights.
The Rockies are depressing me to no end. They had better start winning, or they will find themselves wasting a great season.
I like to listen to my mp3 player while I'm grocery shopping. Sadly, my earphones like to fall out of my ears. I lead a horrible life.
I really need to take a shower.
I'm not wearing underwear.
Anna's friend Melissa is coming by tomorrow and bringing her puppy. I guess it will be Daisy's first puppy-play-date.
I am so so so excited to Project 86 in October. You have no idea.
I occurred to me the other day that 2007 was the best year ever (extending back to the fall of 2006). 06-07 was the best school year ever with the best people ever (shout out to the ladies of D10), we got married that summer, we had our first apartment, Bush was still president, and the Rockies went to the World Series. I guess it's just all downhill from there.
Chief is attacking me at the moment. His paws are wet. I have a feeling he's been in the toilet again.
My lower right back itches.
Maybe Anna will scratch my back for me. Probably not though. I think I repell her.
Anyone want to come scratch my back for me?
Apartment 115: Alice
You've heard about Alice because you've heard about her kids. Alice herself is in her sixties with short brown hair. She's very nice. She's brought me cookies before. Unfortunately, her entire family seems to live in her little one bedroom apartment. During Daulton's conversation with her grandson, I overheard him saying that he lived with her because he got kicked out of his aunt's house. At least one of her sons lives there. There are several other people whose relationships to her I haven't quite established, who are also there all the time. Both of her sons look the same, with the same long blond pony-tail. They only way I can tell them apart is that one is a good deal bigger than the other. Other residents have come and told me that Alice ends up begging off of them towards the end of the month, because her entire social security check has gone to her kids. I was also told that Alice's kids will get a job, only to go for a week or two, just long enough to get paid once and then leave. I couldn't even picture such a thing being true until I heard one of her granddaughters complaining about how she hadn't been paid yet, so she'd have to go back to work one more day to be able to get a check. Alice's sons don't creep me out like Pat's son, but her granddaughters look like they are on meth. They might be. Once again, I have heard stories that the police have had to have been called on them for fighting and such around the building. I can't verify any of this because I haven't seen it myself. I do know that none of them are up to any good. It makes me sad for Alice because as I said before, she's been very sweet to me. Though I do wonder if she is being sweet because she doesn't want me to create trouble over her family staying with her. I would if I could, but as I've said before, how do I prove in any meaningful way that they live there?
I got the papercut when I reached inside an envelope from Dell, containing all the install cds for Anna's computer.
When I first got into the office, Bobbie came by and asked if she could place a vase full of horrible fake flowers in my office window. Obviously, I said she could. So there is now a hideous vase of flowers sitting on the window sill in my office.
Daulton showed up today. Apparently, he was having a psych evaluation yesterday. He said he didn't want to talk about it.
Daulton met one of Alice's grandsons today. They were trading stories about spending time in jail. I don't have a good feeling about this.
I made grilled cheeses for lunch. While I was eating my grilled cheese, there was a knock on the door. One of Alice's other relatives wanted me to know that George had lost his cane. Roughly two minutes later, there was another knock on the door. George wanted me to know that he had lost his cane. I finished my sandwich and then went to look for his cane. I didn't find it. I hope he did. I hope Daulton didn't take it.
Anna is really cute.
I went to Wal-Mart tonight. I got things like paper towels and tissues and bandaids to go with the milk and chicken and other food related things. I should start bringing a camera and taking pictures so I can submit them to that peopleofwalmart website.
While at Wal-Mart, I decided to solve a mystery that has plagued me for years. I wanted to know what the difference was between the chocolate chip cookie recipes on the backs of Tollhouse chocolate chips and Hershey's chocolate chips. The answer is a half teaspoon of salt. There is a whole teaspoon in the Tollhouse recipe and a half in the Hershey recipe. I guess that's enough for Hershey to not infringe on Nestle's rights.
The Rockies are depressing me to no end. They had better start winning, or they will find themselves wasting a great season.
I like to listen to my mp3 player while I'm grocery shopping. Sadly, my earphones like to fall out of my ears. I lead a horrible life.
I really need to take a shower.
I'm not wearing underwear.
Anna's friend Melissa is coming by tomorrow and bringing her puppy. I guess it will be Daisy's first puppy-play-date.
I am so so so excited to Project 86 in October. You have no idea.
I occurred to me the other day that 2007 was the best year ever (extending back to the fall of 2006). 06-07 was the best school year ever with the best people ever (shout out to the ladies of D10), we got married that summer, we had our first apartment, Bush was still president, and the Rockies went to the World Series. I guess it's just all downhill from there.
Chief is attacking me at the moment. His paws are wet. I have a feeling he's been in the toilet again.
My lower right back itches.
Maybe Anna will scratch my back for me. Probably not though. I think I repell her.
Anyone want to come scratch my back for me?
Apartment 115: Alice
You've heard about Alice because you've heard about her kids. Alice herself is in her sixties with short brown hair. She's very nice. She's brought me cookies before. Unfortunately, her entire family seems to live in her little one bedroom apartment. During Daulton's conversation with her grandson, I overheard him saying that he lived with her because he got kicked out of his aunt's house. At least one of her sons lives there. There are several other people whose relationships to her I haven't quite established, who are also there all the time. Both of her sons look the same, with the same long blond pony-tail. They only way I can tell them apart is that one is a good deal bigger than the other. Other residents have come and told me that Alice ends up begging off of them towards the end of the month, because her entire social security check has gone to her kids. I was also told that Alice's kids will get a job, only to go for a week or two, just long enough to get paid once and then leave. I couldn't even picture such a thing being true until I heard one of her granddaughters complaining about how she hadn't been paid yet, so she'd have to go back to work one more day to be able to get a check. Alice's sons don't creep me out like Pat's son, but her granddaughters look like they are on meth. They might be. Once again, I have heard stories that the police have had to have been called on them for fighting and such around the building. I can't verify any of this because I haven't seen it myself. I do know that none of them are up to any good. It makes me sad for Alice because as I said before, she's been very sweet to me. Though I do wonder if she is being sweet because she doesn't want me to create trouble over her family staying with her. I would if I could, but as I've said before, how do I prove in any meaningful way that they live there?
Thursday, September 17, 2009
This Post Doesn't Matter Nearly As Much As The Previous Post
Daulton didn't show up today. I'm pretty sure he mentioned something earlier in the week about a fieldtrip. I'm not sure what sort of fieldtrip a bunch of convicted juvenile delinquents might take. Perhaps it was a "scared straight" program or something.
I just grilled some chicken that I had marinated in soy sauce, honey, and Dr. Pepper. It was decent. It could probably have marinated a little longer. I served it with chili flavored ramen. Anna said she liked it. I'll just have to take her word for it.
Ramen is messy to eat. My shirt is covered in its drippings. It's alright though. It's just an undershirt.
Not having Daulton in the office kind of felt like a vacation.
Red.
We took Daisy over to the in-laws' house. Anna and her dad were supposed to work on a song to play on Sunday, but Anna couldn't find any music for it. Considering that her Dad makes everything up as it is and that she didn't know the song to begin with, she decided that it would work better if her dad just played by himself. Who knows? It could turn into an "old favorite." ("Old favorite" is an inside joke in Anna's family. I won't let you in on the joke because I am mean. Enjoy feeling left out of the loop.)
Dinner is hitting my colon.
So I don't really have much to say tonight.
As Joel noted last night, I nearly had a heart attack watching the Rockies, but they won. They have the day off tonight. There are two things I hate more than anything else in the world. Days off in baseball and by-weeks in football.
I feel like there is something I should be mentioning, but I can't think of it.
C'est la vie.
Apartment 114: Pat
The day I showed up to interview for this job, Pat had this conversation with Karen: "Is that the new manager?" "Yes" "Well, I'm moving." After hearing about this, I expected Pat to be real mean. Actually, she's been really sweet to me. She's probably in her early seventies, with long silver hair, and a penchant for wearing hats. Her hats aren't fancy old lady hats though. She wears floppy denim things. Pat has a giant rabbit in her apartment. She also has a son living with her. He's very creepy. Apparently, her son and her grandson have both caused considerable commotion around the apartment. I've been told by several residents that they have needed to call the police due to the fights Pat's family would have in the parking lot. I haven't met her grandson. I think he's in jail. I guess he would fight terribly with his girlfriends in front of the apartment. I learned from Pat yesterday, that she used to have a daughter, but she died before she could get a lung transplant. I also learned yesterday that Pat has completely removed her eyebrowns in favor of drawn on purple things. It looks kind of ridiculous.
I just grilled some chicken that I had marinated in soy sauce, honey, and Dr. Pepper. It was decent. It could probably have marinated a little longer. I served it with chili flavored ramen. Anna said she liked it. I'll just have to take her word for it.
Ramen is messy to eat. My shirt is covered in its drippings. It's alright though. It's just an undershirt.
Not having Daulton in the office kind of felt like a vacation.
Red.
We took Daisy over to the in-laws' house. Anna and her dad were supposed to work on a song to play on Sunday, but Anna couldn't find any music for it. Considering that her Dad makes everything up as it is and that she didn't know the song to begin with, she decided that it would work better if her dad just played by himself. Who knows? It could turn into an "old favorite." ("Old favorite" is an inside joke in Anna's family. I won't let you in on the joke because I am mean. Enjoy feeling left out of the loop.)
Dinner is hitting my colon.
So I don't really have much to say tonight.
As Joel noted last night, I nearly had a heart attack watching the Rockies, but they won. They have the day off tonight. There are two things I hate more than anything else in the world. Days off in baseball and by-weeks in football.
I feel like there is something I should be mentioning, but I can't think of it.
C'est la vie.
Apartment 114: Pat
The day I showed up to interview for this job, Pat had this conversation with Karen: "Is that the new manager?" "Yes" "Well, I'm moving." After hearing about this, I expected Pat to be real mean. Actually, she's been really sweet to me. She's probably in her early seventies, with long silver hair, and a penchant for wearing hats. Her hats aren't fancy old lady hats though. She wears floppy denim things. Pat has a giant rabbit in her apartment. She also has a son living with her. He's very creepy. Apparently, her son and her grandson have both caused considerable commotion around the apartment. I've been told by several residents that they have needed to call the police due to the fights Pat's family would have in the parking lot. I haven't met her grandson. I think he's in jail. I guess he would fight terribly with his girlfriends in front of the apartment. I learned from Pat yesterday, that she used to have a daughter, but she died before she could get a lung transplant. I also learned yesterday that Pat has completely removed her eyebrowns in favor of drawn on purple things. It looks kind of ridiculous.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
A Post That Matters
This is a post that matters.
I spent one hour and forty-eight minutes on the phone with Dell tonight. I was attempting to resolve the issues Anna is having with her laptop. Dell is now apparently sending me a new AC adapter and install cds to redo the whole computer. I hope it works. But of course, if it doesn't then it is a hardware issue, which means Dell should replace the whole computer.
Crossword clue: Storm Track, four letters PA_H. Daulton guessed every letter in the alphabet except T.
I'm really in the mood for extra brutal music this evening. I'm not sure why.
We took Daisy for a walk today. She got to meet Sassy, Sara's dog. Sassy terrified Daisy. She took turns hiding between Anna's and my legs. On our walk, we also discovered that the field behind the Salvation Army is filled with strawberries.
Dark blue.
Sarah stopped by with some dishes she had found upon moving into her new apartment. I was napping when she knocked on the door, and it nearly made me poop myself. She didn't stay long, but Anna made sure that she said "hi" to Daisy.
Seriously, someone invent some heavier music. I'm in the mood right now.
My head itches.
Bobbie came by again today. She pretty much stops by everyday, either to ask for quarters or to tell me every detail of her life. Today she did both. She wanted change for a twenty and to tell me that she was waiting for Kroger to deliver her medication. She didn't want to wait outside "on account of whatchacallit out there smoking and cussin'." This led to her sitting in the office for twenty or so minutes, jumping around from complaining about Katie touching her laundry and smoking to her dad's three marriages and her mother's relationship with her stepbrother. I don't want to give everything away because I won't have anything to say when it comes her turn to be examined. Nevertheless, she's out of her mind.
Chief continues to beg at the table. Anna continues to succumb to his pleas. He will never ever stop.
Della also came by for quarters today. She only wanted two dollars worth.
Velma came by after office hours yesterday to tell me the light was out above her stove. I told her I'd come by today to fix it. I kept my word because that's the kind of man I am. I also changed the light about our stove while I was at it.
After Sarah had come into the apartment there was another knock on the door, and Sarah said, "Oh yeah, I'm supposed to tell you that someone left a door open." I was confused and opened the door to find Mildred there. Mildred asked me if "that little girl told me about the door being left open." I guess someone propped an entrance door. I told her I would go check on it, but when I got out there the door was already closed.
Apartment 113: Anna and Geoffrey
Geoffrey is the most ridiculously good looking man you will ever see. The phrase "talk, dark, and handsome" was conceived simply so it could describe him. He has one of those ageless faces, where it is impossible to tell if he is twenty or two-hundred. Essentially, he is an elf (apparently he is also a nerd). Anna is the most adorable thing on earth. If it were possible, she might be the only thing to outshine Geoffrey beauty and grace. Unfortunately, she appears to be twelve years old, and this makes Geoffrey seem infinitely creepy. Inside the mystical halls of their abode dwell a smelly dog, two outrageously handsome (if a bit rotten) cats, one overly excitable guinea pig, and three rather aggressive fish. Geoffrey enjoys cooking things, and the smells emanating from their palace have been known to bring passerby to their knees in delight. Anna sings with the angels, though lately she seems more interested in playing piano for them. The staggering genius of these two masterpieces of creation combine to form a force so powerful that it is a wonder the universe does not collapse in on itself. You wish you knew such astounding and attractive people.
I spent one hour and forty-eight minutes on the phone with Dell tonight. I was attempting to resolve the issues Anna is having with her laptop. Dell is now apparently sending me a new AC adapter and install cds to redo the whole computer. I hope it works. But of course, if it doesn't then it is a hardware issue, which means Dell should replace the whole computer.
Crossword clue: Storm Track, four letters PA_H. Daulton guessed every letter in the alphabet except T.
I'm really in the mood for extra brutal music this evening. I'm not sure why.
We took Daisy for a walk today. She got to meet Sassy, Sara's dog. Sassy terrified Daisy. She took turns hiding between Anna's and my legs. On our walk, we also discovered that the field behind the Salvation Army is filled with strawberries.
Dark blue.
Sarah stopped by with some dishes she had found upon moving into her new apartment. I was napping when she knocked on the door, and it nearly made me poop myself. She didn't stay long, but Anna made sure that she said "hi" to Daisy.
Seriously, someone invent some heavier music. I'm in the mood right now.
My head itches.
Bobbie came by again today. She pretty much stops by everyday, either to ask for quarters or to tell me every detail of her life. Today she did both. She wanted change for a twenty and to tell me that she was waiting for Kroger to deliver her medication. She didn't want to wait outside "on account of whatchacallit out there smoking and cussin'." This led to her sitting in the office for twenty or so minutes, jumping around from complaining about Katie touching her laundry and smoking to her dad's three marriages and her mother's relationship with her stepbrother. I don't want to give everything away because I won't have anything to say when it comes her turn to be examined. Nevertheless, she's out of her mind.
Chief continues to beg at the table. Anna continues to succumb to his pleas. He will never ever stop.
Della also came by for quarters today. She only wanted two dollars worth.
Velma came by after office hours yesterday to tell me the light was out above her stove. I told her I'd come by today to fix it. I kept my word because that's the kind of man I am. I also changed the light about our stove while I was at it.
After Sarah had come into the apartment there was another knock on the door, and Sarah said, "Oh yeah, I'm supposed to tell you that someone left a door open." I was confused and opened the door to find Mildred there. Mildred asked me if "that little girl told me about the door being left open." I guess someone propped an entrance door. I told her I would go check on it, but when I got out there the door was already closed.
Apartment 113: Anna and Geoffrey
Geoffrey is the most ridiculously good looking man you will ever see. The phrase "talk, dark, and handsome" was conceived simply so it could describe him. He has one of those ageless faces, where it is impossible to tell if he is twenty or two-hundred. Essentially, he is an elf (apparently he is also a nerd). Anna is the most adorable thing on earth. If it were possible, she might be the only thing to outshine Geoffrey beauty and grace. Unfortunately, she appears to be twelve years old, and this makes Geoffrey seem infinitely creepy. Inside the mystical halls of their abode dwell a smelly dog, two outrageously handsome (if a bit rotten) cats, one overly excitable guinea pig, and three rather aggressive fish. Geoffrey enjoys cooking things, and the smells emanating from their palace have been known to bring passerby to their knees in delight. Anna sings with the angels, though lately she seems more interested in playing piano for them. The staggering genius of these two masterpieces of creation combine to form a force so powerful that it is a wonder the universe does not collapse in on itself. You wish you knew such astounding and attractive people.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Bring Out The Dead
Gray. I figured I'd just get it out of the way this time. I know it's what you all come here to find out anyway.
The Rockies are seriously depressing me at the moment. I don't know if life could get any worse.
Anna had to go pick up a job application for this Aging and Community Services position. She had agreed to be there at nine. I'm a loving husband and got up two hours earlier than usual so that I could take her. You girls can all be jealous of Anna for a bit.
As we were walking out the door to leave, Bobbie was randomly pressing buzzer buttons, hoping for someone to let her in. I gladly opened the door for her and then let her into her own apartment as well. I'm the perfect manager. I instinctively know when my tenants are locked out and need my assistance.
In between his cleaning duties, I let Daulton work on a crossword with me. I figured it would be a learning experience for him. I was surprised though, at just how often, when we would get the first letter of a word, he would start throwing out random words, regardless of length, that started with that letter. There were several times when the answers should have been right in front of his eyes, and he seemingly found every way possible to not say them.
I'm currently rocking "Son of the Morning" a la Oh, Sleeper.
I love listening to good music on good headphones.
Anna's father's return to Browns Corner coincides nicely with their need to redo the bathrooms. Tonight he was over there, putting his 30+ years of construction experience to work. Anna's mother had called and told us what was going on, so we said we'd pick up pizza for all of us and come over too. Well when we arrived at the church, we discovered that Anna's mother was not there, and in fact, she was at home with a bad back. So we fed Anna's father and then went to their house and chilled with Anna's mom for a bit. (This would sound so much less clumsy if I could just call Anna's father "Mark" and Anna's mother "Karen." But that just seems so gosh darn disrespectful to me. So you'll have to just keep pardoning the clumsiness.)
And yes, I mean "bring out the dead" not "bring out your dead." I'm not quoting Monty Python here.
Anna loves Daisy.
My right butt cheek itches. I keep scratching it, but it just won't stop. Now that I'm thinking about it, the sensation is crawling up my butt, and I am starting to feel it on my right cheek, my left ear, and my left butt cheek. This is worse than water-boarding.
I'm getting excited for the various hunting seasons coming my way. I need to get out my bow and make sure its still spitting broadheads where I want them. I need to figure out where I'm going to focus my deer hunting efforts, so that I can do some scouting and pick a tree.
I'm having issues with my spelling tonight. You can't tell because I pay attention to that sort of thing, but my fingers aren't exactly at one with the keyboard at the moment.
I don't know that I have much else to say this evening. I grow boring in my old age.
Apartment 112: George
You've heard about George. He is an exceedingly frail old man with a greasy old man comb-over and a cane. He's in his mid-eighties and smokes like a California forest fire. He has had multiple strokes, and they have resulted in a couple unpleasant consequences: he is impossible to understand, and he drools everywhere. He receives all of his meals via "Mom's Meals." They bring him fourteen meals a week, that he gets to choose himself off of a menu. He just has to place his order once a week. Obviously, if I can't understand him in person, no one is going to understand him on the phone. Thus, I place the orders for him. I realize this is terrible of me, but I hate doing this because it requires George to come into the office, lean over the menu and point to each meal he would like to order. As a result, I have a desk covered in drool and a soggy order form. And he reeks of smoke. George has several nurses that visit him each week. One of the nurses comes twice a week or more to help him keep his apartment clean. I've heard horror stories about how it was before she started helping, and it must have been awful because I can't stand to be in there now. My eyes actually burn in the atmosphere of his unit. His nurse that helps him clean is probably 6'2" and has hands bigger than any man's. I'm not exaggerating. Her hands look like they could crush my skull. His other nurses come to make sure he is cleaning himself and taking his medication. Neither of these things is he wont to do. He likes to sneak out of his apartment when he knows they are coming. Only one other resident likes George, and that is only because they spend all day smoking together. Apparently George moved into Booth Manor with his wife. I'm not sure how long they both lived here, but eventually she passed away. As I understand it, it wasn't long after her death that George's "floozies" (this is not my term but is the term the other residents use) started showing up. They seem to come in droves around the first of the month (social security time) and peter out after that. It would seem that one of them for sure has stolen a great deal of money from him, and yet he keeps letting her come back. Other residents have reported these floozies leaving George's apartment with handfuls of electronics and such. Some of them have also been involved in threatening other residents, and I even heard one report that one was walking around outside half naked. I've had to tell the other tenants that they are welcome to call the police on George's ladies. I have no idea where he gets them either.
So yeah, that's George, and I feel like an awful person saying all of this. But it's all true, and I'd be failing you, my readers, if I did not report to you the facts of my employment here.
The Rockies are seriously depressing me at the moment. I don't know if life could get any worse.
Anna had to go pick up a job application for this Aging and Community Services position. She had agreed to be there at nine. I'm a loving husband and got up two hours earlier than usual so that I could take her. You girls can all be jealous of Anna for a bit.
As we were walking out the door to leave, Bobbie was randomly pressing buzzer buttons, hoping for someone to let her in. I gladly opened the door for her and then let her into her own apartment as well. I'm the perfect manager. I instinctively know when my tenants are locked out and need my assistance.
In between his cleaning duties, I let Daulton work on a crossword with me. I figured it would be a learning experience for him. I was surprised though, at just how often, when we would get the first letter of a word, he would start throwing out random words, regardless of length, that started with that letter. There were several times when the answers should have been right in front of his eyes, and he seemingly found every way possible to not say them.
I'm currently rocking "Son of the Morning" a la Oh, Sleeper.
I love listening to good music on good headphones.
Anna's father's return to Browns Corner coincides nicely with their need to redo the bathrooms. Tonight he was over there, putting his 30+ years of construction experience to work. Anna's mother had called and told us what was going on, so we said we'd pick up pizza for all of us and come over too. Well when we arrived at the church, we discovered that Anna's mother was not there, and in fact, she was at home with a bad back. So we fed Anna's father and then went to their house and chilled with Anna's mom for a bit. (This would sound so much less clumsy if I could just call Anna's father "Mark" and Anna's mother "Karen." But that just seems so gosh darn disrespectful to me. So you'll have to just keep pardoning the clumsiness.)
And yes, I mean "bring out the dead" not "bring out your dead." I'm not quoting Monty Python here.
Anna loves Daisy.
My right butt cheek itches. I keep scratching it, but it just won't stop. Now that I'm thinking about it, the sensation is crawling up my butt, and I am starting to feel it on my right cheek, my left ear, and my left butt cheek. This is worse than water-boarding.
I'm getting excited for the various hunting seasons coming my way. I need to get out my bow and make sure its still spitting broadheads where I want them. I need to figure out where I'm going to focus my deer hunting efforts, so that I can do some scouting and pick a tree.
I'm having issues with my spelling tonight. You can't tell because I pay attention to that sort of thing, but my fingers aren't exactly at one with the keyboard at the moment.
I don't know that I have much else to say this evening. I grow boring in my old age.
Apartment 112: George
You've heard about George. He is an exceedingly frail old man with a greasy old man comb-over and a cane. He's in his mid-eighties and smokes like a California forest fire. He has had multiple strokes, and they have resulted in a couple unpleasant consequences: he is impossible to understand, and he drools everywhere. He receives all of his meals via "Mom's Meals." They bring him fourteen meals a week, that he gets to choose himself off of a menu. He just has to place his order once a week. Obviously, if I can't understand him in person, no one is going to understand him on the phone. Thus, I place the orders for him. I realize this is terrible of me, but I hate doing this because it requires George to come into the office, lean over the menu and point to each meal he would like to order. As a result, I have a desk covered in drool and a soggy order form. And he reeks of smoke. George has several nurses that visit him each week. One of the nurses comes twice a week or more to help him keep his apartment clean. I've heard horror stories about how it was before she started helping, and it must have been awful because I can't stand to be in there now. My eyes actually burn in the atmosphere of his unit. His nurse that helps him clean is probably 6'2" and has hands bigger than any man's. I'm not exaggerating. Her hands look like they could crush my skull. His other nurses come to make sure he is cleaning himself and taking his medication. Neither of these things is he wont to do. He likes to sneak out of his apartment when he knows they are coming. Only one other resident likes George, and that is only because they spend all day smoking together. Apparently George moved into Booth Manor with his wife. I'm not sure how long they both lived here, but eventually she passed away. As I understand it, it wasn't long after her death that George's "floozies" (this is not my term but is the term the other residents use) started showing up. They seem to come in droves around the first of the month (social security time) and peter out after that. It would seem that one of them for sure has stolen a great deal of money from him, and yet he keeps letting her come back. Other residents have reported these floozies leaving George's apartment with handfuls of electronics and such. Some of them have also been involved in threatening other residents, and I even heard one report that one was walking around outside half naked. I've had to tell the other tenants that they are welcome to call the police on George's ladies. I have no idea where he gets them either.
So yeah, that's George, and I feel like an awful person saying all of this. But it's all true, and I'd be failing you, my readers, if I did not report to you the facts of my employment here.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Clickity Clack is the Sound My Keyboard Makes as I Reveal My Wisdom to You My Minions
Bobbie came by the office today and announced to me that she didn't like Bonnie (who has just moved in to the apartment next door). She told me she wasn't friendly at all. I find this interesting since she already knew Bonnie, seeing had lived here before and that Bobbie had just come to me last week and thanked me for giving her such a nice neighboor.
Bobbie gave me a nice example of how she is losing her mind today. She started telling me about people who had died in the apartment. According to Karen, only one person has died here. Bobbie told me it was three. She also started describing to me how she found one of them. But right in the middle of this, she switched to talking about staying at Mildred's apartment. 180 degree twist. Just like that. So I got to hear all about how Mildred lost her eye by crashing through a glass table. I don't know if this is true or not. It might be. Who knows?
I don't know if I've ever rooted for the Raiders before, but against the Chargers, I might just have to pretend I'm not a Raider Hater. Honestly, the Raiders have been terrible for awhile. Donkey fans have much more reason to despise the Chargers.
Anna just found out that one of her bridesmaids is now pregnant. Anyone remember Chelsey? That's kind of weird but not terribly weird. Anna and I have discussed before which of our friends we thought would get pregnant first. Chelsey may or may not have been discussed, but she wasn't our first guess. I won't tell you who was though. You can wonder yourselves.
I'm thirsty. I accidently left my bottle of AriZona Pomegranate Green Tea out of the refrigerator all day so that it's not cold. I'm sad.
Anna likes taking pictures and videos of her animals. She likes her animals. She doesn't like to take pictures or videos of me. She doesn't like me.
Daulton was alright today. He asked if I had ear plugs he could use while he vacuumed. I didn't.
Dark blue.
I've discovered Hulu. I am impressed with how well it works. I'm just sad that they only carry five episodes of any one show.
The Rockies are depressing me right now.
My wife is really cute. It's sad that she doesn't like me.
The two weirdest things to me about having pets are these: you let animals run around inside your dwelling, and you willingly pick up their poop. Weird.
And yet Anna still likes animals more than me, even though I know how to use a toilet.
I'll take a shower tonight, eventually.
I hate Tim Lincecum.
I feel kind of funny.
This thirst is getting the best of me. I'm going to go find something to drink after I reveal another resident to you. And as I noted in my last post, I got a little over eager with Mildred and skipped apartment 110.
Apartment 110: Phyllis
I don't see Phyllis much. I'm not sure what she spends her days doing, but whatever it is, it isn't here. She looks to be in her late sixties. She's relatively tall, with that lusterless hair that old people get even when it hasn't turned gray. She likes country music. I've heard her blasting it through the building. I get the sense that she's not very bright. I don't really have anything specific to point to, but she just comes off as being pretty dull. I did discover from Karen some enteresting things about Phyllis. Phyllis has a hyphenated last name, at least according to HUD. When Karen was showing me how to take care of rent and some of the paperwork things, she explained to me that Phyllis had moved into the building as a married woman. She and her husband shared the apartment. Well, her husband was arrested for molesting their great-grandson on premises. He is currently in jail. And she has since divorced him and taken back her maiden name. Apparently, HUD doesn't like name changes. So everytime I have Phyllis sign anything, I have to make sure she uses both last names. (and yes, if you were paying attention: I said Phyllis is in her late sixties, and she has great-grand kids. That just seems weird to me.) Phyllis' kids are white trash. One daughter looks disturbingly like Phyllis. I mean, she is Phyllis twenty years ago. The other daughter actually applied for the position I hold now. I heard about the application when I first came here, but low and behold, I found the application in one of my desk drawers, so I have seen it myself. The thing is completely hand written. She listed four previous work experiences. Three of them concluded with some version of "I was fired because they falsely accused me of stealing money." Three times. I'm not kidding. I've seen her too. She's got a bleeding heart tattoo that looks like it was done in prison, only worse. I'm grateful I haven't seen Phyllis' children more often than I have. They scare me. I'm afraid they'll bust into the office looking for money to feed their drug habits.
Bobbie gave me a nice example of how she is losing her mind today. She started telling me about people who had died in the apartment. According to Karen, only one person has died here. Bobbie told me it was three. She also started describing to me how she found one of them. But right in the middle of this, she switched to talking about staying at Mildred's apartment. 180 degree twist. Just like that. So I got to hear all about how Mildred lost her eye by crashing through a glass table. I don't know if this is true or not. It might be. Who knows?
I don't know if I've ever rooted for the Raiders before, but against the Chargers, I might just have to pretend I'm not a Raider Hater. Honestly, the Raiders have been terrible for awhile. Donkey fans have much more reason to despise the Chargers.
Anna just found out that one of her bridesmaids is now pregnant. Anyone remember Chelsey? That's kind of weird but not terribly weird. Anna and I have discussed before which of our friends we thought would get pregnant first. Chelsey may or may not have been discussed, but she wasn't our first guess. I won't tell you who was though. You can wonder yourselves.
I'm thirsty. I accidently left my bottle of AriZona Pomegranate Green Tea out of the refrigerator all day so that it's not cold. I'm sad.
Anna likes taking pictures and videos of her animals. She likes her animals. She doesn't like to take pictures or videos of me. She doesn't like me.
Daulton was alright today. He asked if I had ear plugs he could use while he vacuumed. I didn't.
Dark blue.
I've discovered Hulu. I am impressed with how well it works. I'm just sad that they only carry five episodes of any one show.
The Rockies are depressing me right now.
My wife is really cute. It's sad that she doesn't like me.
The two weirdest things to me about having pets are these: you let animals run around inside your dwelling, and you willingly pick up their poop. Weird.
And yet Anna still likes animals more than me, even though I know how to use a toilet.
I'll take a shower tonight, eventually.
I hate Tim Lincecum.
I feel kind of funny.
This thirst is getting the best of me. I'm going to go find something to drink after I reveal another resident to you. And as I noted in my last post, I got a little over eager with Mildred and skipped apartment 110.
Apartment 110: Phyllis
I don't see Phyllis much. I'm not sure what she spends her days doing, but whatever it is, it isn't here. She looks to be in her late sixties. She's relatively tall, with that lusterless hair that old people get even when it hasn't turned gray. She likes country music. I've heard her blasting it through the building. I get the sense that she's not very bright. I don't really have anything specific to point to, but she just comes off as being pretty dull. I did discover from Karen some enteresting things about Phyllis. Phyllis has a hyphenated last name, at least according to HUD. When Karen was showing me how to take care of rent and some of the paperwork things, she explained to me that Phyllis had moved into the building as a married woman. She and her husband shared the apartment. Well, her husband was arrested for molesting their great-grandson on premises. He is currently in jail. And she has since divorced him and taken back her maiden name. Apparently, HUD doesn't like name changes. So everytime I have Phyllis sign anything, I have to make sure she uses both last names. (and yes, if you were paying attention: I said Phyllis is in her late sixties, and she has great-grand kids. That just seems weird to me.) Phyllis' kids are white trash. One daughter looks disturbingly like Phyllis. I mean, she is Phyllis twenty years ago. The other daughter actually applied for the position I hold now. I heard about the application when I first came here, but low and behold, I found the application in one of my desk drawers, so I have seen it myself. The thing is completely hand written. She listed four previous work experiences. Three of them concluded with some version of "I was fired because they falsely accused me of stealing money." Three times. I'm not kidding. I've seen her too. She's got a bleeding heart tattoo that looks like it was done in prison, only worse. I'm grateful I haven't seen Phyllis' children more often than I have. They scare me. I'm afraid they'll bust into the office looking for money to feed their drug habits.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
...And then the Trampolinist was Carried Away on a Stretcher
I forgot to mention this yesterday. I had woken up and was walking through the apartment when I stepped on something sort of cold and slimy. It was actually a piece of lettuce. I though to myself, "Self, why is Chief dragging pieces of lettuce around the apartment, and where did he get them?" But I failed to pursue the mystery any further. Later though, I stepped into the kitchen to discover a head of lettuce sitting in Daisy's food bowl. I asked Anna what on earth it was doing there. She had no idea. I don't even know why the lettuce wasn't in the refrigerator, but regardless, Chief took the whole thing and set it in Daisy's bowl. I guess he thinks she needs to eat her vegetables.
This morning we went to Browns Corner for church.
This evening we went to Browns Corner for church.
I don't have much to report about the morning service, but this evening led to some laughs. While Anna's father was preaching this evening, he stumbled upon a brilliant new idea. He was discussing the difference between a Catholic crucifix and the symbolism of the empty cross, when he took this tangent: "You know if someone wanted to make a million dollars, they should make an 'empty grave' necklace. Then someone can walk up to you and ask, 'what's with the rock with a hole in it?' 'it's an empty grave.' 'what'd you have in there? a cricket?'" Anna about died.
While we were singing hymns, I noticed some doodling in an extremely old hymnal. I discovered that someone had made a couple of flip-book stories. I flipped the pages and watched in wonder as a trampolinist bounded across the page and bounces over three trampolines only to fall flat on his back and two more characters appeared and then the trampolinist was carried away on a stretcher. The second story was a little more simple. A man goes running across the page and then leaps off of a diving board into some water and then floats away in a giant bubble.
I asked two of the little kids there if they had drawn it, and they said maybe their father had. It's funny too because it is very possible that it is their father's twenty-five year old doodling.
After the morning service, Anna and I went over to the in-laws for a quick lunch. It was quick because after that I went over to BW3s to watch the Broncos/Bengals game. I have no comment on the game itself. You'll see what happened if you watch Sportscenter.
Blue Taz boxers of Taz boxers.
Anna took some amazing videos of Daisy and Chief while I was watching the game. I think she posted a few on facebook. Joel, you may be awesome, but you aren't awesome enough to have facebook to be able to see these videos. That goes for you too, Aimee. Anyone else read this that doesn't have facebook? Yeah, you aren't awesome either.
Since the Broncos did manage to win, I feel it is my obligation to continue to eat the same thing each time I watch them play. My menu: twelve Asian Zing wings, six Caribbean Jerk wins, and six Spicy Garlic wings. I will continue to order that until they lose. I will also wear the same clothes and underwear. My good voodoo will counteract the evil presence that is Josh McDaniels.
And I realize I bash McDaniels alot, so I feel like I need to clarify something. However much I think the Broncos would be better off without him, I will continue to root passionately for them to win. I will also give McDaniels every chance to redeem himself in my eyes. Though, I believe full redemption will only come with a Superbowl victory.
The Rockies lost again. My life continues to be ruined.
If you were to ask me which I prefer: Broncos or Rockies? I'm going to have to be honest and say that it depends on the time of the year.
I have a headache. I feel funny. I think I need to go to sleep.
I have three fantasty football teams. All of them were chosen by automatic draft. My teams suck. One of my teams got stuck with Chad Pennington as QB, with no other QBs on the roster. That didn't go over well today.
Anna's cousin sent me a paper to edit. I just finished working on it before I started writing this. I enjoy editing papers sometimes. I just worry that I won't be much help to people when I do.
Wow, I almost forgot to talk about a resident.
Apartment 111: Mildred (Edit: I guess I got a little excited. I said Mildred was 110, but she is 111. I'll take care of 110 tomorrow.)
Mildred is a very frail looking old lady. I'd bet she is pushing eighty. She likes to wear solid colored baseball caps, and she's hardly ever apart from her walker. She is also blind in one eye. I'm not sure if she has a glass eye or if she just can't see out of it, but if you look at her you can tell one eye is pointing in the wrong direction. Mildred mutters to herself a lot. She also mutters when she talks to you. Unfortunately, (maybe because she only sees out of one eye and thus has no depth perception) she starts her muttering to you from fifty feet away. You can never tell if she is talking to you or just muttering until you finally get up next to her, and by then, she'll be halfway through whatever it is she is saying to you. When she isn't actually telling you anything of importance, she's usually muttering about how "everyone around here smokes." She likes to sit out front of the building in the evenings, but I think she gets really offended with other residents smoke out there. Mildred told me tonight that her air conditioner didn't seem to be working. I'll check it out tomorrow. She's never around during the day. I have no idea where she goes. Apparently, she is scared to sleep alone at night so she asks Bobbie to sleep over. I'm not sure it helps her fear that she has a police scanner that she listens to all the time.
This morning we went to Browns Corner for church.
This evening we went to Browns Corner for church.
I don't have much to report about the morning service, but this evening led to some laughs. While Anna's father was preaching this evening, he stumbled upon a brilliant new idea. He was discussing the difference between a Catholic crucifix and the symbolism of the empty cross, when he took this tangent: "You know if someone wanted to make a million dollars, they should make an 'empty grave' necklace. Then someone can walk up to you and ask, 'what's with the rock with a hole in it?' 'it's an empty grave.' 'what'd you have in there? a cricket?'" Anna about died.
While we were singing hymns, I noticed some doodling in an extremely old hymnal. I discovered that someone had made a couple of flip-book stories. I flipped the pages and watched in wonder as a trampolinist bounded across the page and bounces over three trampolines only to fall flat on his back and two more characters appeared and then the trampolinist was carried away on a stretcher. The second story was a little more simple. A man goes running across the page and then leaps off of a diving board into some water and then floats away in a giant bubble.
I asked two of the little kids there if they had drawn it, and they said maybe their father had. It's funny too because it is very possible that it is their father's twenty-five year old doodling.
After the morning service, Anna and I went over to the in-laws for a quick lunch. It was quick because after that I went over to BW3s to watch the Broncos/Bengals game. I have no comment on the game itself. You'll see what happened if you watch Sportscenter.
Blue Taz boxers of Taz boxers.
Anna took some amazing videos of Daisy and Chief while I was watching the game. I think she posted a few on facebook. Joel, you may be awesome, but you aren't awesome enough to have facebook to be able to see these videos. That goes for you too, Aimee. Anyone else read this that doesn't have facebook? Yeah, you aren't awesome either.
Since the Broncos did manage to win, I feel it is my obligation to continue to eat the same thing each time I watch them play. My menu: twelve Asian Zing wings, six Caribbean Jerk wins, and six Spicy Garlic wings. I will continue to order that until they lose. I will also wear the same clothes and underwear. My good voodoo will counteract the evil presence that is Josh McDaniels.
And I realize I bash McDaniels alot, so I feel like I need to clarify something. However much I think the Broncos would be better off without him, I will continue to root passionately for them to win. I will also give McDaniels every chance to redeem himself in my eyes. Though, I believe full redemption will only come with a Superbowl victory.
The Rockies lost again. My life continues to be ruined.
If you were to ask me which I prefer: Broncos or Rockies? I'm going to have to be honest and say that it depends on the time of the year.
I have a headache. I feel funny. I think I need to go to sleep.
I have three fantasty football teams. All of them were chosen by automatic draft. My teams suck. One of my teams got stuck with Chad Pennington as QB, with no other QBs on the roster. That didn't go over well today.
Anna's cousin sent me a paper to edit. I just finished working on it before I started writing this. I enjoy editing papers sometimes. I just worry that I won't be much help to people when I do.
Wow, I almost forgot to talk about a resident.
Apartment 111: Mildred (Edit: I guess I got a little excited. I said Mildred was 110, but she is 111. I'll take care of 110 tomorrow.)
Mildred is a very frail looking old lady. I'd bet she is pushing eighty. She likes to wear solid colored baseball caps, and she's hardly ever apart from her walker. She is also blind in one eye. I'm not sure if she has a glass eye or if she just can't see out of it, but if you look at her you can tell one eye is pointing in the wrong direction. Mildred mutters to herself a lot. She also mutters when she talks to you. Unfortunately, (maybe because she only sees out of one eye and thus has no depth perception) she starts her muttering to you from fifty feet away. You can never tell if she is talking to you or just muttering until you finally get up next to her, and by then, she'll be halfway through whatever it is she is saying to you. When she isn't actually telling you anything of importance, she's usually muttering about how "everyone around here smokes." She likes to sit out front of the building in the evenings, but I think she gets really offended with other residents smoke out there. Mildred told me tonight that her air conditioner didn't seem to be working. I'll check it out tomorrow. She's never around during the day. I have no idea where she goes. Apparently, she is scared to sleep alone at night so she asks Bobbie to sleep over. I'm not sure it helps her fear that she has a police scanner that she listens to all the time.
Chaosity
Anna and I were up really late last night. I got up and 10:30 to let Daisy out, but then I went back to bed until two or so. Somehow though, I'm pretty tired. I think I'll go to bed early tonight.
I made chocolate chip cookies for Anna. The texture of the batter seemed rather odd in the mixing bowl, but the cookies turned out well.
I had to go to Wal-mart to get eggs to make those cookies. While there I also went ahead and picked up some milk and kitty litter and such. I figured that I should "kill two birds with one stone," so to speak.
After I made cookies, we went to the in-laws with Daisy. I threw the frisbee for Hank for awhile.
Oddly, it's my right pectoral muscle that is the most sore from throwing the frisbee. It must have been from the violent stretching of a throw.
The Rockies lost in extra innings. My life is ruined.
I talked to my dad for awhile about his elk hunt. It just made me wish I could be in Colorado elk hunting too.
After we came back from the in-laws, Anna's computer decided to go to hell. This is the same computer that just had a factory image restore performed. It should have been working like new. Anna had to perform another restore. I think it's back to a semi-functioning state at the moment.
I ironed our clothes for church tomorrow. That way I won't have to get up to do it in the morning. I plan on waking up ten minutes before we have to leave.
I discovered that Oh, Sleeper and The Chariot will be back in Indianapolis next month. I think I'll go. They aren't exactly my favorite bands, but The Chariot puts on such an insane show that it would be a shame to miss it.
I did a couple loads of laundry tonight. I still hadn't folded the clothes from the last time I did laundry, so I folded those clothes while the others were in the washer.
I tried to make Anna feel better about her computer by making her a quesadilla. I forgot I was making it...twice. It burned on both sides. I pulled the chicken out of it and started over with a new tortilla.
This feels like it might be my most borning post ever.
I'm not wearing underwear.
There, now it's a little more exciting.
Apartment 109: Janet
Janet moved in to 109 at the beginning of July. Her sister-in-law took care of everything on her behalf. Janet seems to have a little problem with alcohol. I guess her brother and his wife handle all of her money to prevent her from spending it all on liquor. Janet seems nice. Mostly she keeps to herself. Her sister-in-law, on the other hand, is exceedingly overwhelming. She stopped by nearly every day during the process of getting Janet's paperwork complete, asking when it would all be ready. She's a Avon lady, and she sure looks like it. Janet, by comparison, does not look like an Avon lady. She's rather unfortunate of features. She's very small in stature and has some of the worst teeth I have ever seen. She badly needed braces and frequent dental exams. (Man, I feel mean for saying all of this, but I'm trying to be honest in my descriptions) Janet likes wolves. On the few occasions I've seen her apartment, I've noted that nearly all of her decorations involve wolves in some form or another. It wouldn't surprise me in the least to see her wearing one of those incredibly awesome wolf t-shirts that are so popular amongst all the cool kids. Behold the awesomeness. http://www.amazon.com/Three-Wolf-Moon-T-Shirt-Medium/dp/B000NZW3J8/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=apparel&qid=1252821169&sr=8-1 (And read the reviews. That's the best part)
I made chocolate chip cookies for Anna. The texture of the batter seemed rather odd in the mixing bowl, but the cookies turned out well.
I had to go to Wal-mart to get eggs to make those cookies. While there I also went ahead and picked up some milk and kitty litter and such. I figured that I should "kill two birds with one stone," so to speak.
After I made cookies, we went to the in-laws with Daisy. I threw the frisbee for Hank for awhile.
Oddly, it's my right pectoral muscle that is the most sore from throwing the frisbee. It must have been from the violent stretching of a throw.
The Rockies lost in extra innings. My life is ruined.
I talked to my dad for awhile about his elk hunt. It just made me wish I could be in Colorado elk hunting too.
After we came back from the in-laws, Anna's computer decided to go to hell. This is the same computer that just had a factory image restore performed. It should have been working like new. Anna had to perform another restore. I think it's back to a semi-functioning state at the moment.
I ironed our clothes for church tomorrow. That way I won't have to get up to do it in the morning. I plan on waking up ten minutes before we have to leave.
I discovered that Oh, Sleeper and The Chariot will be back in Indianapolis next month. I think I'll go. They aren't exactly my favorite bands, but The Chariot puts on such an insane show that it would be a shame to miss it.
I did a couple loads of laundry tonight. I still hadn't folded the clothes from the last time I did laundry, so I folded those clothes while the others were in the washer.
I tried to make Anna feel better about her computer by making her a quesadilla. I forgot I was making it...twice. It burned on both sides. I pulled the chicken out of it and started over with a new tortilla.
This feels like it might be my most borning post ever.
I'm not wearing underwear.
There, now it's a little more exciting.
Apartment 109: Janet
Janet moved in to 109 at the beginning of July. Her sister-in-law took care of everything on her behalf. Janet seems to have a little problem with alcohol. I guess her brother and his wife handle all of her money to prevent her from spending it all on liquor. Janet seems nice. Mostly she keeps to herself. Her sister-in-law, on the other hand, is exceedingly overwhelming. She stopped by nearly every day during the process of getting Janet's paperwork complete, asking when it would all be ready. She's a Avon lady, and she sure looks like it. Janet, by comparison, does not look like an Avon lady. She's rather unfortunate of features. She's very small in stature and has some of the worst teeth I have ever seen. She badly needed braces and frequent dental exams. (Man, I feel mean for saying all of this, but I'm trying to be honest in my descriptions) Janet likes wolves. On the few occasions I've seen her apartment, I've noted that nearly all of her decorations involve wolves in some form or another. It wouldn't surprise me in the least to see her wearing one of those incredibly awesome wolf t-shirts that are so popular amongst all the cool kids. Behold the awesomeness. http://www.amazon.com/Three-Wolf-Moon-T-Shirt-Medium/dp/B000NZW3J8/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=apparel&qid=1252821169&sr=8-1 (And read the reviews. That's the best part)
Friday, September 11, 2009
A Day Unlike Any Other Because No Other Day is Today
Daulton didn't take his ritalin again. He kept asking me to come help him while he was vacuuming. One time he just wanted to know if he'd unraveled enough extension cord.
James' daughter came by today, and Daulton told her that she smelled like his grandmother. "I'm just an old woman," she replied.
The same lady that told us about the job opening at this apartment called and said there is a job opening within her company (Aging and Community Services). It would just be a part-time job that she thinks would be perfect for Anna. Anna seems kind of excited. I guess the company doesn't even know yet what all it would involve, but maybe that will work out well.
I made bread pudding again. We brought it over to the in-laws. They enjoyed it.
Daisy came too. She had fun playing with Hank and Lucy.
I about threw my arm off tossing the frisbee for Hank.
I'm trying to convince Anna to come to the Project 86 show in October. It's not that I think she'd enjoy it. Mostly I just want her to suffer. Anyone want to come and join in her suffering?
I'm joking. This lineup won't be as heavy as the Scream the Prayer tour, and I have a feeling Project will be including some of their mellower tunes.
Random quote of the day, for which I will provide no context, "It's so soft." "No, it's not! It's rock hard."
So apparently, the Rockies lead the National League in runs. This surprises me. Lately, it seems as though their offense keeps on squeaking by with just enough to win.
The Dodgers/Giants series this weekend poses a quandry for me. Pretty much, I'm rooting for the Giants, as long as the Rockies win against the Padres, and I'm rooting for the Dodgers, should the Rockies lose to the Padres.
I went to this website, Snagajob, to try to find a job while we were still in Grand Rapids. They still send me emails when jobs come open in the area. I should probably remove myself from their system, or I'll forever continue to be told every time McDonalds of Grand Rapids is hiring.
I should trim my toe-nails. How do I know this? I just gouged my left foot with my right big toe.
I have hairy toe-knuckles.
I don't understand all this frenzy of this Rockband: The Beatles stuff. That sounds like the worst selection of music ever. The great thing about the Guitar Hero games was that they were all full of a variety of artists. Even Guitar Hero: Metallica has other bands on it. And you can't escape hearing about this stupid game. Well great, let's just choose the most annoying band in history, and absolutely assault the American public with them to promote our video game.
I'm wearing my extra sexy "Euro-Style" dark turquoisey boxer briefs.
Anna tried to make a Hawaiian sweet bread in our bread machine today. Sadly, it didn't rise. It came from a box mix, and I have to imagine the yeast was just bad. It's sad because, when it turns out correctly, I really enjoy that bread.
Apartment 108: Judy
Judy is Bonnie's sister. They both moved in to the complex last year. Judy is very sweet. She's got dark, short curly hair. It's that faded brunette that hasn't gone gray yet but looks to be on the brink. She's probably in her sixties. I feel bad about this, but she kind of reminds me of some alien off Star Wars or something with this extra hangy neck/chin skin she has. I can always tell when she's coming to the office because her little house slippers make this flip-flop-esque shuffling sound.
James' daughter came by today, and Daulton told her that she smelled like his grandmother. "I'm just an old woman," she replied.
The same lady that told us about the job opening at this apartment called and said there is a job opening within her company (Aging and Community Services). It would just be a part-time job that she thinks would be perfect for Anna. Anna seems kind of excited. I guess the company doesn't even know yet what all it would involve, but maybe that will work out well.
I made bread pudding again. We brought it over to the in-laws. They enjoyed it.
Daisy came too. She had fun playing with Hank and Lucy.
I about threw my arm off tossing the frisbee for Hank.
I'm trying to convince Anna to come to the Project 86 show in October. It's not that I think she'd enjoy it. Mostly I just want her to suffer. Anyone want to come and join in her suffering?
I'm joking. This lineup won't be as heavy as the Scream the Prayer tour, and I have a feeling Project will be including some of their mellower tunes.
Random quote of the day, for which I will provide no context, "It's so soft." "No, it's not! It's rock hard."
So apparently, the Rockies lead the National League in runs. This surprises me. Lately, it seems as though their offense keeps on squeaking by with just enough to win.
The Dodgers/Giants series this weekend poses a quandry for me. Pretty much, I'm rooting for the Giants, as long as the Rockies win against the Padres, and I'm rooting for the Dodgers, should the Rockies lose to the Padres.
I went to this website, Snagajob, to try to find a job while we were still in Grand Rapids. They still send me emails when jobs come open in the area. I should probably remove myself from their system, or I'll forever continue to be told every time McDonalds of Grand Rapids is hiring.
I should trim my toe-nails. How do I know this? I just gouged my left foot with my right big toe.
I have hairy toe-knuckles.
I don't understand all this frenzy of this Rockband: The Beatles stuff. That sounds like the worst selection of music ever. The great thing about the Guitar Hero games was that they were all full of a variety of artists. Even Guitar Hero: Metallica has other bands on it. And you can't escape hearing about this stupid game. Well great, let's just choose the most annoying band in history, and absolutely assault the American public with them to promote our video game.
I'm wearing my extra sexy "Euro-Style" dark turquoisey boxer briefs.
Anna tried to make a Hawaiian sweet bread in our bread machine today. Sadly, it didn't rise. It came from a box mix, and I have to imagine the yeast was just bad. It's sad because, when it turns out correctly, I really enjoy that bread.
Apartment 108: Judy
Judy is Bonnie's sister. They both moved in to the complex last year. Judy is very sweet. She's got dark, short curly hair. It's that faded brunette that hasn't gone gray yet but looks to be on the brink. She's probably in her sixties. I feel bad about this, but she kind of reminds me of some alien off Star Wars or something with this extra hangy neck/chin skin she has. I can always tell when she's coming to the office because her little house slippers make this flip-flop-esque shuffling sound.
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