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.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
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.
Anna.
I was outside in the grass playing with Daisy today, and we met Bonnie and her sister. Bonnie has been here before, from what I understand, but she moved away and then returned just this week. They're both sooooo sweet, and Bonnie and Daisy love each other. Bonnie said, "If you ever need a babysitter, don't hesitate to come down and get me!" I thought that was sweet. And I also thought it was funny that she said "babysitter" instead of "dogsitter."
I love Daisy. And 90s music. Anna, over and out.
I was outside in the grass playing with Daisy today, and we met Bonnie and her sister. Bonnie has been here before, from what I understand, but she moved away and then returned just this week. They're both sooooo sweet, and Bonnie and Daisy love each other. Bonnie said, "If you ever need a babysitter, don't hesitate to come down and get me!" I thought that was sweet. And I also thought it was funny that she said "babysitter" instead of "dogsitter."
I love Daisy. And 90s music. Anna, over and out.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Yo Yo Yo G-String Funk Dogs
I beez ghetto y'all.
I also beez sorry for not updating yesterday. You may punch me.
As such, here is an update on the last couple days. To make up for my delinquency, I'll also share with you a second tenant description.
Yesterday, I spent 45 minutes arguing with Daulton over whether or not it was safe to use the vacuum. Almost immediately after he started the vacuum yesterday, it proceeded to make a rather loud shaking/rattling noise. When I examined it, I discovered that one side of the base was getting extremely hot. I took the thing apart and found that one end of the brush was rubbing badly. I lubricated the thing and reassembled the vacuum. It still vibrated, but it didn't produce the heat it had before. But Daulton refused to use it. He actually ended up crying, telling me it wasn't worth it, and asking me to go ahead and call the police. I could recall allowing myself to get similarly carried away at that age, so even though I didn't give in to his request to not use the vacuum and do something else, I did give him time to calm down. Eventually though, I did have to demonstrate to him through my own use of the vacuum that it wasn't going to eat him.
I do feel bad for Daulton sometimes though. The old people terrify him, and they say some rather odd things to the poor kid. Katie thinks his haircut makes his "head look funny" and Bobbie says he "sure is pretty."
The exterminator came yesterday. While he was spraying the apartments, Daulton followed us around. He kept asking the poor guy questions about how old he was and whether or not he had kids and if he beat his kids (yeah, he asked him that). He also kept asking him if he'd seen certain movies. Apparently one of the movies Daulton had seen involved a bug spraying serial killer. The exterminator simply responded, "that's not me."
The Rockies won on a walk off two run single last night. I yelled a lot.
Apartment 106: Sara
Sara is probably in her early seventies, though it's hard to tell. She has long whitish silver hair but relatively youngish skin. She has a dog named Sassy, a miniature doberman, who very much lives up to her name. Sara scared me at first. She's very feisty and uses relatively rough language (there's just something about old ladies cussing that disturbs me). She likes to wear dresses that I'd almost guess she made herself. I know for a fact that she likes to knit little cosies for her pop cans. Sara's apartment is packed full of stuff. I don't know if she qualifies as a hoarder or not. The first time I saw it, she told me it was all the stuff that had belonged to her recently deceased mother. I haven't really seen it since. Sara's apartment is on the back corner of the complex, meaning she is in the most private of the residences. She's been here since the place opened, so she chose it herself. She likes to sit out back on her patio with Sassy. Whenever I take trash out to the dumpster, I expect to hear Sassy yapping at me as I come outside.
Now it's time for today.
Daulton did what I asked him today, though he got really really upset when I showed him all the smudges that he'd caused on the windows in his attempts to "wash" them.
I have trouble explaining to Anna and you, my faithful readers, just what it is Daulton does during the day that drives me so crazy, but today, one thing occurred to me. He can't accomplish a task without a) asking for help or b) telling me he has just finished some part, and if I don't respond to either of these things, he will keep asking even if it's obvious that I'm in the middle of something. He'll even do it while I'm in the middle of talking to someone. This means that, as much as he is "helping" me by doing the cleaning, I can't get anything else done while he's working.
Bobbie came by and talked some more nonsense. I am happy to announce that she told me she has finally finished up her "warshin'."
Alice came out and said that the laundry room smelled like the sewer was backed up. I went over there. I couldn't smell anything. I suspect she smelled Beulah's apartment. I hate walking down that hallway. It makes me want to puke.
Mike came by the office on the way out today. He told me he was on his way to Grand Rapids. So if any of you Grand Rapidians see a sixty some odd year old guy with a cane and a "Get-r-drunk" camouflage hat and matching camouflage pants trying to sell knives and watches up there, you know it's Mike.
Apartment 107: James
James is a proud war veteran. He probably in his mid to late seventies and looks pretty frail. He always wears a red baseball cap covered in military related pins and patches. He's a very nice guy. His daughters come and visit him pretty much every day. I only see one of them since she always comes while I'm in the office, but apparently another daughter comes during the evening. I like it when his daughter comes because, from the office, I can always hear her knock on his door and then hear a truly joyful "Hi, Daddy" and "Hey, there." Apparently, you can send "flowers" in the local paper as a form of public thanks. I guess James' daughters honored me in the paper for the pancake breakfast we did. Sadly, I don't get the newspaper, so I didn't see it myself. Those people make me smile though.
I also beez sorry for not updating yesterday. You may punch me.
As such, here is an update on the last couple days. To make up for my delinquency, I'll also share with you a second tenant description.
Yesterday, I spent 45 minutes arguing with Daulton over whether or not it was safe to use the vacuum. Almost immediately after he started the vacuum yesterday, it proceeded to make a rather loud shaking/rattling noise. When I examined it, I discovered that one side of the base was getting extremely hot. I took the thing apart and found that one end of the brush was rubbing badly. I lubricated the thing and reassembled the vacuum. It still vibrated, but it didn't produce the heat it had before. But Daulton refused to use it. He actually ended up crying, telling me it wasn't worth it, and asking me to go ahead and call the police. I could recall allowing myself to get similarly carried away at that age, so even though I didn't give in to his request to not use the vacuum and do something else, I did give him time to calm down. Eventually though, I did have to demonstrate to him through my own use of the vacuum that it wasn't going to eat him.
I do feel bad for Daulton sometimes though. The old people terrify him, and they say some rather odd things to the poor kid. Katie thinks his haircut makes his "head look funny" and Bobbie says he "sure is pretty."
The exterminator came yesterday. While he was spraying the apartments, Daulton followed us around. He kept asking the poor guy questions about how old he was and whether or not he had kids and if he beat his kids (yeah, he asked him that). He also kept asking him if he'd seen certain movies. Apparently one of the movies Daulton had seen involved a bug spraying serial killer. The exterminator simply responded, "that's not me."
The Rockies won on a walk off two run single last night. I yelled a lot.
Apartment 106: Sara
Sara is probably in her early seventies, though it's hard to tell. She has long whitish silver hair but relatively youngish skin. She has a dog named Sassy, a miniature doberman, who very much lives up to her name. Sara scared me at first. She's very feisty and uses relatively rough language (there's just something about old ladies cussing that disturbs me). She likes to wear dresses that I'd almost guess she made herself. I know for a fact that she likes to knit little cosies for her pop cans. Sara's apartment is packed full of stuff. I don't know if she qualifies as a hoarder or not. The first time I saw it, she told me it was all the stuff that had belonged to her recently deceased mother. I haven't really seen it since. Sara's apartment is on the back corner of the complex, meaning she is in the most private of the residences. She's been here since the place opened, so she chose it herself. She likes to sit out back on her patio with Sassy. Whenever I take trash out to the dumpster, I expect to hear Sassy yapping at me as I come outside.
Now it's time for today.
Daulton did what I asked him today, though he got really really upset when I showed him all the smudges that he'd caused on the windows in his attempts to "wash" them.
I have trouble explaining to Anna and you, my faithful readers, just what it is Daulton does during the day that drives me so crazy, but today, one thing occurred to me. He can't accomplish a task without a) asking for help or b) telling me he has just finished some part, and if I don't respond to either of these things, he will keep asking even if it's obvious that I'm in the middle of something. He'll even do it while I'm in the middle of talking to someone. This means that, as much as he is "helping" me by doing the cleaning, I can't get anything else done while he's working.
Bobbie came by and talked some more nonsense. I am happy to announce that she told me she has finally finished up her "warshin'."
Alice came out and said that the laundry room smelled like the sewer was backed up. I went over there. I couldn't smell anything. I suspect she smelled Beulah's apartment. I hate walking down that hallway. It makes me want to puke.
Mike came by the office on the way out today. He told me he was on his way to Grand Rapids. So if any of you Grand Rapidians see a sixty some odd year old guy with a cane and a "Get-r-drunk" camouflage hat and matching camouflage pants trying to sell knives and watches up there, you know it's Mike.
Apartment 107: James
James is a proud war veteran. He probably in his mid to late seventies and looks pretty frail. He always wears a red baseball cap covered in military related pins and patches. He's a very nice guy. His daughters come and visit him pretty much every day. I only see one of them since she always comes while I'm in the office, but apparently another daughter comes during the evening. I like it when his daughter comes because, from the office, I can always hear her knock on his door and then hear a truly joyful "Hi, Daddy" and "Hey, there." Apparently, you can send "flowers" in the local paper as a form of public thanks. I guess James' daughters honored me in the paper for the pancake breakfast we did. Sadly, I don't get the newspaper, so I didn't see it myself. Those people make me smile though.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Yet another nightly dose of wisdom
I'm following the Rockies game on ESPN gamecast right now. I'm really grateful for this feature, but there are definitely things that bug me about it. The most notable at the moment involves statistics for the on-deck batters. The gamecast is supposed to display the on-deck hitter, and what they have done so far in the game (i.e. Todd Helton 1 for 3). The problem is that when gamecast runs slow, sometimes the batters statistics will be updated before they show the process of him going through an at bat, and I will know before I see the succession of pitches and stuff whether or not he makes an out. This takes away from the illusion that I'm following the game as it progresses. My life is ruined.
Mostly I'm just angry that MLB and the NFL have forbidden local radio stations from streaming games. I used to be able to at least listen to football and baseball games live online. Eh, I guess I'll stick with what I can get.
Daisy hasn't had an accident for awhile, but we're still having a hard time trusting her again.
Anna's computer is causing her fits. I think the biggest problem is a worn cord on her power adapter. I'm going to call Dell tonight. Her computer should still be under warranty.
I'm hungry.
Camouflage Taz boxers.
Apparently everyone's technology is going nuts. I guess my mom's computer fried too.
Bobbie came by the office today asking for a replacement lightbulb that she said she would replace herself. I went with her because I needed to see which kind of bulb she needed. It's a good thing I did, because none of her lights were working. Her bedroom, livingroom, and kitchen lights were all non-functioning. I tried flipping the breakers, but I called the electrician after that didn't work. He came and the first thing he did was try the breakers again. It worked that time. I felt stupid. But then we flipped on one of the switches again and heard this horrible crackling in the wall. It turns out Bobbie had a bad switch that was throwing her breaker. So even though I had tripped the breaker, it just blew it again. The electrician shocked himself pretty good replacing the switch. You'd think they would be more careful.
Daulton drove my absolutely insane today. Apparently, he didn't take his ritalin, and you could tell. He fought me over everything I told him to do. He kept trying to come up with an excuse to come to our apartment and see Anna (thirsty, had to use the bathroom, had to tell Anna something...). I wanted to strangle the kid.
Apartment 105: Mike
Mike, I would guess, is in his early sixties. He has had a couple strokes and requires at least a cane to walk. Sometimes he goes all out and uses one of those fancy roller walkers with a seat in it. The strokes also mean that he talks very slowly and a little slurred, but he's relatively easy to understand if you pay attention. He's got white hair. When I first met him, he just had a mustache, but now he has added a goatee. He's got a tattoo on his arm that almost makes me wonder if he were a prisoner of war or something. The first time I met Mike, he told me that I wouldn't see much of him because "I like living here, but I don't like staying here." He spends all day either visiting his mother or selling pocket knives at flea markets and the like. It's true that I don't see him much, but when he does come by the office he always stops in to chat about something. A couple times he has shown me a few of his pocket knives as well. He usually has half a dozen or so lining his pockets.
Mostly I'm just angry that MLB and the NFL have forbidden local radio stations from streaming games. I used to be able to at least listen to football and baseball games live online. Eh, I guess I'll stick with what I can get.
Daisy hasn't had an accident for awhile, but we're still having a hard time trusting her again.
Anna's computer is causing her fits. I think the biggest problem is a worn cord on her power adapter. I'm going to call Dell tonight. Her computer should still be under warranty.
I'm hungry.
Camouflage Taz boxers.
Apparently everyone's technology is going nuts. I guess my mom's computer fried too.
Bobbie came by the office today asking for a replacement lightbulb that she said she would replace herself. I went with her because I needed to see which kind of bulb she needed. It's a good thing I did, because none of her lights were working. Her bedroom, livingroom, and kitchen lights were all non-functioning. I tried flipping the breakers, but I called the electrician after that didn't work. He came and the first thing he did was try the breakers again. It worked that time. I felt stupid. But then we flipped on one of the switches again and heard this horrible crackling in the wall. It turns out Bobbie had a bad switch that was throwing her breaker. So even though I had tripped the breaker, it just blew it again. The electrician shocked himself pretty good replacing the switch. You'd think they would be more careful.
Daulton drove my absolutely insane today. Apparently, he didn't take his ritalin, and you could tell. He fought me over everything I told him to do. He kept trying to come up with an excuse to come to our apartment and see Anna (thirsty, had to use the bathroom, had to tell Anna something...). I wanted to strangle the kid.
Apartment 105: Mike
Mike, I would guess, is in his early sixties. He has had a couple strokes and requires at least a cane to walk. Sometimes he goes all out and uses one of those fancy roller walkers with a seat in it. The strokes also mean that he talks very slowly and a little slurred, but he's relatively easy to understand if you pay attention. He's got white hair. When I first met him, he just had a mustache, but now he has added a goatee. He's got a tattoo on his arm that almost makes me wonder if he were a prisoner of war or something. The first time I met Mike, he told me that I wouldn't see much of him because "I like living here, but I don't like staying here." He spends all day either visiting his mother or selling pocket knives at flea markets and the like. It's true that I don't see him much, but when he does come by the office he always stops in to chat about something. A couple times he has shown me a few of his pocket knives as well. He usually has half a dozen or so lining his pockets.
Monday, September 7, 2009
$600 minimum
That's what the Geek Squad said it would cost to recover that data on Anna's harddrive. I definitely have some searching to do.
Did you get your free Chick-fil-a today? I did. I represented the Colorado Rockies here in Indiana. I was a lone island of purple and black in a sea of blue and white. The free sandwich made my day.
I need a shower.
Since I already had to go to Greenwood for Anna's harddrive, I tried to get some other stuff accomplished too. I got a couple more bags of the special cat food that Howie requires (speaking of Howie. He pooped on the rug in the spare bedroom today.) I stopped at Half Priced Books and got another book, and finally, I stopped at Gander Mountain and picked up another 500 rounds of ammo. Wal-mart hardly ever has what I need in stock, and when they do, they put a limit on how much I can buy and record my drivers licence number. That bothers me. So now I get all my ammo at Gander Mountain.
Since I had to go to Bestbuy for the harddrive, I also picked up the new Oh, Sleeper album, "Son of the Morning." I'm rocking it as we speak. It's pretty good. I'm not disappointed, though I'm not absolutely impressed either. They do put on a pretty impressive display of technical metalcore without straying too far down the path of screamo. And who can go wrong with an album with a deformed pentagram as the cover art? Don't worry Jana, I don't suggest you try out Oh, Sleeper, but I'm telling you, you're missing something if you can't find any enjoyment in Maylene & the Sons of Disaster.
You don't understand how excited I am that Project 86 is coming to Franklin. Why am I so excited? Not only are they going to be headlining (i.e. they play a full set), but they have promised a show unlike anything they have ever done, with never before heard live songs pulled from their entire catalogue. Could it get any better than that?
The Rockies won today. They continue to hold a two game wild card lead. I hope they can hold onto it. I'd love to see them in the playoffs again.
I'm going to make my prediction now. The Broncos go 7-9 this year. The problem is, I doubt this is bad enough to get McDaniels canned.
Daisy has again spent all day in her cage for her refusal to poop when we take her outside.
If I take a shower now, I'll stop feeling so gross. If I take a shower right before bed I can get my pillow soaking wet from my hair. I think I'll take a shower right before bed.
Apartment 104: Marilyn
Marilyn is another one of those typical little old ladies except she's got a little twinkle of humor in her eye. She's small, with short silver hair, probably in her early seventies. She's been very nice to me so far. She likes to sit on her porch and play cards with the other residents. (I should have mentioned this with apartments 101-103) She also has a very nice garden around her patio. Velma, Donna, Mary, and Marilyn all have flowers and bird feeders and vegetables growing in front of their apartments. She's pretty vocal about her needs though. If she needs something done she'll tell me. Most of the time, when she looks at me I get the sense she is sizing me up, and whatever she is concluding is bringing her to the brink of laughter.
Did you get your free Chick-fil-a today? I did. I represented the Colorado Rockies here in Indiana. I was a lone island of purple and black in a sea of blue and white. The free sandwich made my day.
I need a shower.
Since I already had to go to Greenwood for Anna's harddrive, I tried to get some other stuff accomplished too. I got a couple more bags of the special cat food that Howie requires (speaking of Howie. He pooped on the rug in the spare bedroom today.) I stopped at Half Priced Books and got another book, and finally, I stopped at Gander Mountain and picked up another 500 rounds of ammo. Wal-mart hardly ever has what I need in stock, and when they do, they put a limit on how much I can buy and record my drivers licence number. That bothers me. So now I get all my ammo at Gander Mountain.
Since I had to go to Bestbuy for the harddrive, I also picked up the new Oh, Sleeper album, "Son of the Morning." I'm rocking it as we speak. It's pretty good. I'm not disappointed, though I'm not absolutely impressed either. They do put on a pretty impressive display of technical metalcore without straying too far down the path of screamo. And who can go wrong with an album with a deformed pentagram as the cover art? Don't worry Jana, I don't suggest you try out Oh, Sleeper, but I'm telling you, you're missing something if you can't find any enjoyment in Maylene & the Sons of Disaster.
You don't understand how excited I am that Project 86 is coming to Franklin. Why am I so excited? Not only are they going to be headlining (i.e. they play a full set), but they have promised a show unlike anything they have ever done, with never before heard live songs pulled from their entire catalogue. Could it get any better than that?
The Rockies won today. They continue to hold a two game wild card lead. I hope they can hold onto it. I'd love to see them in the playoffs again.
I'm going to make my prediction now. The Broncos go 7-9 this year. The problem is, I doubt this is bad enough to get McDaniels canned.
Daisy has again spent all day in her cage for her refusal to poop when we take her outside.
If I take a shower now, I'll stop feeling so gross. If I take a shower right before bed I can get my pillow soaking wet from my hair. I think I'll take a shower right before bed.
Apartment 104: Marilyn
Marilyn is another one of those typical little old ladies except she's got a little twinkle of humor in her eye. She's small, with short silver hair, probably in her early seventies. She's been very nice to me so far. She likes to sit on her porch and play cards with the other residents. (I should have mentioned this with apartments 101-103) She also has a very nice garden around her patio. Velma, Donna, Mary, and Marilyn all have flowers and bird feeders and vegetables growing in front of their apartments. She's pretty vocal about her needs though. If she needs something done she'll tell me. Most of the time, when she looks at me I get the sense she is sizing me up, and whatever she is concluding is bringing her to the brink of laughter.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Today is the day that...
We kept Daisy locked up in her cage, except for when we took her outside every couple hours. She didn't pee or poop at all until late this afternoon. Once she finally did, we let her hang out in the living room with us. Hopefully, we can quickly cure her little pooping habit.
I went to Wal-mart and got groceries. After I got groceries, I called my mom. I ended up sitting in the parking lot for 45 minutes talking to dear mommy. She loves me more when I call her.
We were going to go to church this morning to hear Anna's father's first sermon as head pastor, but things conspired against us. We could have gotten to Sunday school a little late, but that didn't sound appealing. And apparently if you don't go to Sunday school at this church, it's like saying you love Satan or something. So we'll just make sure we are on time next week.
I vacuumed the apartment. It's astounding how many cats I can pull out of the vacuum canister when I am done.
I don't have much else to say for today.
I'm wearing dark blue boxers.
I'm eating bread pudding and ice cream.
Apartment 103: Mary
Mary scares the living daylights out of me. She's the first lady I really met in the complex. She told Anna's mother that her side of the building was the good side. Mary is probably in her mid 60's. She's got shirt salt and pepper hair and a wrinkled smokers face. She likes to sit on her porch and smoke. Why does she scare me? I guess it's hard to explain without you actually meeting her, but she's a rather gruff and forward lady. She would describe herself in much harsher terms that I'm not allowed to use on here considering some of the readership I have. Mary seems to have taken it upon herself to watch out for the other ladies in the place and will bully her way to get what she wants. She's the one who made me aware of some of the problems with George's ladies. If there's something going on in the apartment that I don't know about, she'll be the one to tell me. Mary's son lives with her. I haven't made an issue of this with her because he hasn't caused any problems and actually proves helpful to many of the ladies around the place. I did tell Mary that if he could possibly find a place elsewhere, I would appreciate it because I can't force the issue of other ladies' children staying there if I let Mary's son stay.
I went to Wal-mart and got groceries. After I got groceries, I called my mom. I ended up sitting in the parking lot for 45 minutes talking to dear mommy. She loves me more when I call her.
We were going to go to church this morning to hear Anna's father's first sermon as head pastor, but things conspired against us. We could have gotten to Sunday school a little late, but that didn't sound appealing. And apparently if you don't go to Sunday school at this church, it's like saying you love Satan or something. So we'll just make sure we are on time next week.
I vacuumed the apartment. It's astounding how many cats I can pull out of the vacuum canister when I am done.
I don't have much else to say for today.
I'm wearing dark blue boxers.
I'm eating bread pudding and ice cream.
Apartment 103: Mary
Mary scares the living daylights out of me. She's the first lady I really met in the complex. She told Anna's mother that her side of the building was the good side. Mary is probably in her mid 60's. She's got shirt salt and pepper hair and a wrinkled smokers face. She likes to sit on her porch and smoke. Why does she scare me? I guess it's hard to explain without you actually meeting her, but she's a rather gruff and forward lady. She would describe herself in much harsher terms that I'm not allowed to use on here considering some of the readership I have. Mary seems to have taken it upon herself to watch out for the other ladies in the place and will bully her way to get what she wants. She's the one who made me aware of some of the problems with George's ladies. If there's something going on in the apartment that I don't know about, she'll be the one to tell me. Mary's son lives with her. I haven't made an issue of this with her because he hasn't caused any problems and actually proves helpful to many of the ladies around the place. I did tell Mary that if he could possibly find a place elsewhere, I would appreciate it because I can't force the issue of other ladies' children staying there if I let Mary's son stay.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Regression
Daisy has regressed severely. Last night, she decided she wanted to poop on our carpet. Today, she decided she wanted to pee on our carpet. Unfortunately, we didn't catch her in the act for either of these misadventures. The first time, we had admittedly grown a little lax in watching her since she had been so good so far, and the second one, I had my back to her while I was doing the dishes. Well, these two accidents led to me catching her in the act of trying to poop on the carpet again tonight. Let's just say she doesn't like me anymore, and hides in her cage whenever I come near.
I made a bread pudding today. I don't know why, but I just decided I wanted to make one. It tastes alright. Anna says it's good. I've honestly never really had bread pudding. I hope this tastes like it should.
I would have made monkey bread, but we didn't have any refrigerated biscuit dough or a bundt pan. (For some reason, I always spell refrigerator "refridgerator")
I don't really have much else to say about today.
Tomorrow will be Anna's father's first day returning to the pulpit as a head pastor. I guess that determines where we are going to church in the morning.
Apartment 102: Donna
I don't know much about Donna. I do know that my first impression of her was that she looks like she should be living in a fancy retirement community and not in subsidized housing. She's a taller, slender lady with short silver hair. I'd say she's in her early 70s and still pretty spry. She likes to sit on her porch and smoke and play cards with other residents. She waves to me if I see her sitting on her porch, but she never says much.
I made a bread pudding today. I don't know why, but I just decided I wanted to make one. It tastes alright. Anna says it's good. I've honestly never really had bread pudding. I hope this tastes like it should.
I would have made monkey bread, but we didn't have any refrigerated biscuit dough or a bundt pan. (For some reason, I always spell refrigerator "refridgerator")
I don't really have much else to say about today.
Tomorrow will be Anna's father's first day returning to the pulpit as a head pastor. I guess that determines where we are going to church in the morning.
Apartment 102: Donna
I don't know much about Donna. I do know that my first impression of her was that she looks like she should be living in a fancy retirement community and not in subsidized housing. She's a taller, slender lady with short silver hair. I'd say she's in her early 70s and still pretty spry. She likes to sit on her porch and smoke and play cards with other residents. She waves to me if I see her sitting on her porch, but she never says much.
Friday, September 4, 2009
Anna.
Oh, life. You have an interesting way of turning out so... interesting.
Things on the job front are driving me absolutely insane. Crazy. I just want to be in the schools doing something. Anything. Although I guess the time here has been pretty good, because dear Daisy (who is absolutely amazing, by the way) is almost completely house broken. I say almost because we've only had her a week as of today. She hasn't had an accident. Love her. Love, love, love her.
I'm trying not to get too frustrated about the hard drive. But my resume is on there. Which doesn't sound like a huge deal, but I had it looked at at Calvin so... Right. And all my pictures are on there. That's what makes me the most frustrated. Even the ones from school are on there. Saaaaaad.
Speaking of Calvin, I have my diploma and certification for the state of Michigan, and I need to get in contact with them to have them mail the Indiana DOE my transcripts and stuff. I didn't think it would be so hard to get certified in Indiana. I got my PRAXIS II scores back, and I passed. The highest score was a 175. I got a 172. Indiana's passing score was a 130. I'm pretty happy about that. So I still have to take my PRAXIS I which is just reading, writing, and math. Not too worried about that one. I just don't want to go do it.
Dad's a pastor again. I think Geoffrey mentioned that at some point. It's weird. I mean, he's always had some position in the church. When I was little, he was the pastor. Then he was the assistant pastor at a different church. Then he did orchestral music or something at another church. Then he did the music at our last church. So... It's not like he hasn't been involved. I didn't think he would be a pastor again until he retired, if ever. And truthfully, I'm just terrified I'm going to get so sucked into doing stuff at this church that I'll get burnt out and never want to go again. The people there are great. I already know quite a few of them (neighbors, old friends, etc.), so that makes it a lot easier... But. I don't know. I have to admit, in Grand Rapids, it was sometimes nice to walk into a church where you didn't know anyone and just kind of disappear and not have anything expected of you. Sometimes I wonder how/if I would be different if dad was never a pastor. Sarah and I have talked about that before. I think I wouldn't feel so much pressure to be so good. Eh. Anyway. New topic.
Almost played through the Nazarene hymnal. I'm on number 607. It's been good for my sight reading.
This post is freakishly boring. I know I'm ranting. I guess I'm just making up for lost time.
So I'm officially not a Calvin student. That's painfully obvious now that we're not moving anywhere. And I love it here, but I miss Grand Rapids and I miss school and friends and music. Mostly I miss you guys. I have no life here. Basically Melissa is the only one left from high school that I've seen. Love her.
Jeremy-I saw the stuff you posted about Calvin's position on profs and sharing their views about homosexuality. I suppose I find it mildly interesting that they had to send out a memo with that written on it. I go back and forth about how I feel about it. I'm glad you posted it. I'm interested to see what happens. Did you see the facebook group about it? You might like to see some of the discussions happening there.
Dad may or may not be getting another horse. For me. :) She's really pretty, but she's probably too feisty for me. So I'll have to bond with Hank and Molly some more before I start riding her. If/when he gets her... Which he might not. But then again, he may.
Well, I'm gonna go snuggle with Dais. Maybe take her outside. Even though it's midnight. We'll just lay there and try to find the stars even though the security lights are on. :)
Oh! And Sara, I wanna come see you in January. Get ready. And Jana and Jeremy! Wanna come see you next summer. And go to LA. And pretend I'm not such a hick/country girl. Are there teaching jobs there? I'll come live there with you and send money home. hahaha. Kiiddddding.
Oh, and Jana. The litter box hums a Bb. I discovered this when I was playing a song in the key of Bb and I heard a slightly flat Bb humming the entire time. Remember when we found the pitches of all the appliances in the apartment? We're so dorky. Somehow I think Fuentes would appreciate that.
Oooook, that was exceedingly long. Bye, friends. Love love love you.
Oh, life. You have an interesting way of turning out so... interesting.
Things on the job front are driving me absolutely insane. Crazy. I just want to be in the schools doing something. Anything. Although I guess the time here has been pretty good, because dear Daisy (who is absolutely amazing, by the way) is almost completely house broken. I say almost because we've only had her a week as of today. She hasn't had an accident. Love her. Love, love, love her.
I'm trying not to get too frustrated about the hard drive. But my resume is on there. Which doesn't sound like a huge deal, but I had it looked at at Calvin so... Right. And all my pictures are on there. That's what makes me the most frustrated. Even the ones from school are on there. Saaaaaad.
Speaking of Calvin, I have my diploma and certification for the state of Michigan, and I need to get in contact with them to have them mail the Indiana DOE my transcripts and stuff. I didn't think it would be so hard to get certified in Indiana. I got my PRAXIS II scores back, and I passed. The highest score was a 175. I got a 172. Indiana's passing score was a 130. I'm pretty happy about that. So I still have to take my PRAXIS I which is just reading, writing, and math. Not too worried about that one. I just don't want to go do it.
Dad's a pastor again. I think Geoffrey mentioned that at some point. It's weird. I mean, he's always had some position in the church. When I was little, he was the pastor. Then he was the assistant pastor at a different church. Then he did orchestral music or something at another church. Then he did the music at our last church. So... It's not like he hasn't been involved. I didn't think he would be a pastor again until he retired, if ever. And truthfully, I'm just terrified I'm going to get so sucked into doing stuff at this church that I'll get burnt out and never want to go again. The people there are great. I already know quite a few of them (neighbors, old friends, etc.), so that makes it a lot easier... But. I don't know. I have to admit, in Grand Rapids, it was sometimes nice to walk into a church where you didn't know anyone and just kind of disappear and not have anything expected of you. Sometimes I wonder how/if I would be different if dad was never a pastor. Sarah and I have talked about that before. I think I wouldn't feel so much pressure to be so good. Eh. Anyway. New topic.
Almost played through the Nazarene hymnal. I'm on number 607. It's been good for my sight reading.
This post is freakishly boring. I know I'm ranting. I guess I'm just making up for lost time.
So I'm officially not a Calvin student. That's painfully obvious now that we're not moving anywhere. And I love it here, but I miss Grand Rapids and I miss school and friends and music. Mostly I miss you guys. I have no life here. Basically Melissa is the only one left from high school that I've seen. Love her.
Jeremy-I saw the stuff you posted about Calvin's position on profs and sharing their views about homosexuality. I suppose I find it mildly interesting that they had to send out a memo with that written on it. I go back and forth about how I feel about it. I'm glad you posted it. I'm interested to see what happens. Did you see the facebook group about it? You might like to see some of the discussions happening there.
Dad may or may not be getting another horse. For me. :) She's really pretty, but she's probably too feisty for me. So I'll have to bond with Hank and Molly some more before I start riding her. If/when he gets her... Which he might not. But then again, he may.
Well, I'm gonna go snuggle with Dais. Maybe take her outside. Even though it's midnight. We'll just lay there and try to find the stars even though the security lights are on. :)
Oh! And Sara, I wanna come see you in January. Get ready. And Jana and Jeremy! Wanna come see you next summer. And go to LA. And pretend I'm not such a hick/country girl. Are there teaching jobs there? I'll come live there with you and send money home. hahaha. Kiiddddding.
Oh, and Jana. The litter box hums a Bb. I discovered this when I was playing a song in the key of Bb and I heard a slightly flat Bb humming the entire time. Remember when we found the pitches of all the appliances in the apartment? We're so dorky. Somehow I think Fuentes would appreciate that.
Oooook, that was exceedingly long. Bye, friends. Love love love you.
Bad Day
Today started out fine. In fact, things were actually awesome pretty much immediately following my last post.
Last night (after I had updated this), I made an amazing discovery as I was traversing the world wide web. I was checking out the upcoming events at all the area music venues with which I am familiar. And low and behold, before it was even announced by the band, I discovered that Project 86 is scheduled to play in Franklin on October 16th. I nearly pooped myself. Not only will they be back in the area, but it's only a 25 or 30 minute drive.
This morning was fine as well. It wasn't the greatest, but it wasn't bad.
The worst thing about the morning was having to deal with Daulton asking if and when we were going fishing again every two seconds. He also made an extra effort to not really work today, so I had to ride him more than usual.
After work, I grilled some chicken and made Anna a quesadilla. That was all fine.
After that, we watched some tv. That was fine.
After that, I got a phone call from Karen telling me that Phyllis had locked herself out and didn't have my number to call. Let me just say this, it's not my fault Phyllis doesn't have my number. I've sent it out on several memos, and other residents have it too. Well anyway, I went and found Phyllis and let her into her apartment. That was fine.
Things became very not fine when, very soon after my door unlocking adventure, Anna tried to access the information on her external hard drive. Nothing happened. The hard drive doesn't show up as connected to her computer. Her computer has been having issues, so I tried to plug the drive into mine. Nothing. A big fat nothing. This is bad because all, and I mean all, of Anna's pictures and videos are on this hard drive. They had been on both the computer and the drive, but Anna's computer was screwing up so much that she did a factory image restore and hadn't yet had the chance to deal with the information on the hard drive.
Why would the drive have to go and fail so close to when Anna has had to redo her computer? That ruined our day a good one.
After I had a good cry, I decided to make myself some chicken fried steak and feed my feelings. I do have to say that it was by far my best attempt at chicken fried steak yet. I could work at making it crispier, but I don't know if I'll succeed in this apartment. I would need the pan to be much hotter, and I've already discovered that our smoke detectors are overly sensitive. I can't think of a sound much worse than a smoke alarm sounding.
Sara, you mentioned a desire to meet these people I talk about. Well, unless you get your butt up here to hang out, describing them will just have to do. So for all of you, my dear and faithful readers, I will start telling you what I know about the people I discuss, one person at a time. And I think it would be logical to just start with the residents, going apartment by apartment.
Apartment 101: Velma
First of all, her name is Velma. Secondly, I have a sneaking suspicion that it was one of her daughters that made that nasty phone call to me a few weeks ago.
Velma is a little old lady in the very stereotypical little old lady sense. For the longest time, I didn't think she existed. I saw her name on the rent-roll, but I never saw her face. Each time she has paid rent, she has shoved it under the door in my office. As a result, I didn't know who she was until well into July. As far as I can tell, she keeps pretty much to herself. I think she spends most of her time listening to her police scanner. She is visited relatively often by what I assume are her children. And by children, I of course mean women-who-would-just-as-soon-punch-you-as-look-at-you. This isn't to say that Velma isn't nice. So far, she has been decent to me on the few occasions we've spoken, but I get a strong sense that she doesn't like me. I don't really know what to do about it.
Last night (after I had updated this), I made an amazing discovery as I was traversing the world wide web. I was checking out the upcoming events at all the area music venues with which I am familiar. And low and behold, before it was even announced by the band, I discovered that Project 86 is scheduled to play in Franklin on October 16th. I nearly pooped myself. Not only will they be back in the area, but it's only a 25 or 30 minute drive.
This morning was fine as well. It wasn't the greatest, but it wasn't bad.
The worst thing about the morning was having to deal with Daulton asking if and when we were going fishing again every two seconds. He also made an extra effort to not really work today, so I had to ride him more than usual.
After work, I grilled some chicken and made Anna a quesadilla. That was all fine.
After that, we watched some tv. That was fine.
After that, I got a phone call from Karen telling me that Phyllis had locked herself out and didn't have my number to call. Let me just say this, it's not my fault Phyllis doesn't have my number. I've sent it out on several memos, and other residents have it too. Well anyway, I went and found Phyllis and let her into her apartment. That was fine.
Things became very not fine when, very soon after my door unlocking adventure, Anna tried to access the information on her external hard drive. Nothing happened. The hard drive doesn't show up as connected to her computer. Her computer has been having issues, so I tried to plug the drive into mine. Nothing. A big fat nothing. This is bad because all, and I mean all, of Anna's pictures and videos are on this hard drive. They had been on both the computer and the drive, but Anna's computer was screwing up so much that she did a factory image restore and hadn't yet had the chance to deal with the information on the hard drive.
Why would the drive have to go and fail so close to when Anna has had to redo her computer? That ruined our day a good one.
After I had a good cry, I decided to make myself some chicken fried steak and feed my feelings. I do have to say that it was by far my best attempt at chicken fried steak yet. I could work at making it crispier, but I don't know if I'll succeed in this apartment. I would need the pan to be much hotter, and I've already discovered that our smoke detectors are overly sensitive. I can't think of a sound much worse than a smoke alarm sounding.
Sara, you mentioned a desire to meet these people I talk about. Well, unless you get your butt up here to hang out, describing them will just have to do. So for all of you, my dear and faithful readers, I will start telling you what I know about the people I discuss, one person at a time. And I think it would be logical to just start with the residents, going apartment by apartment.
Apartment 101: Velma
First of all, her name is Velma. Secondly, I have a sneaking suspicion that it was one of her daughters that made that nasty phone call to me a few weeks ago.
Velma is a little old lady in the very stereotypical little old lady sense. For the longest time, I didn't think she existed. I saw her name on the rent-roll, but I never saw her face. Each time she has paid rent, she has shoved it under the door in my office. As a result, I didn't know who she was until well into July. As far as I can tell, she keeps pretty much to herself. I think she spends most of her time listening to her police scanner. She is visited relatively often by what I assume are her children. And by children, I of course mean women-who-would-just-as-soon-punch-you-as-look-at-you. This isn't to say that Velma isn't nice. So far, she has been decent to me on the few occasions we've spoken, but I get a strong sense that she doesn't like me. I don't really know what to do about it.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Fafafafafishing
I smell like fish.
Chief knocked a drink all over Anna's bedside table. It got on one of her books. She's mad at him.
This commercial I'm watching says that I could train as a "culinary professional." Fun.
Bobbie came by today wanting four more dollars worth of quarters. Again, she told me that she hadn't yet gotten her "warshin'" done. I just want to ask her what happened to all those quarters if she hasn't gotten her laundry done.
George got a new tv today. I helped him carry it into his apartment.
Most everyone has paid their rent for the month, but Marilyn still hasn't. I can't go to the bank until she pays.
Light blue.
Chief is circling my chair as I write this. I think he is contemplating what part of me to eat first when I die.
My dad is going elk hunting tomorrow. He's taking off two weeks, apparently. I am so so so jealous.
The Rockies lost tonight. My life is ruined.
Anna, I must apologize. But I'm having a love affair with this shiatsu massage chair.
So today was the day we had agreed to take Daulton fishing. As a result, I just spent an evening fishing with a hyperactive, prepubescent, roughly 15 year old boy. (On a side note, I have an impossible time understanding him when he talks. I think it is a combination of several things. First of all, he mumbles terribly. Secondly, he is a speed talker. Third, his grammar poor enough that it throws me sometimes. Fourth, he still talks like a little kid, and I've never been able to understand little children talking.) So, it should go without saying that I'm worn out.
I felt bad for Daulton earlier today. It started raining a little bit, while he was at the apartment, and he actually looked like he was going to cry because he thought we wouldn't be able to go fishing. I had to assure him that even if it did rain, we would still try to go.
His dad brought Daulton back from his parole meeting at five, and after a quick stop at Wal-mart for some worms, we headed to the in-laws. Daulton couldn't wait to get out of the car and to the pond. That was until we pulled into the driveway, and the dogs came up to the car. It took a couple minutes of coaxing before we could convince Daulton that the dogs weren't going to bite him.
We fished for about two hours. I ended up catching a couple bass pretty quickly, and this made Daulton mad. So he decided he wanted to use my pole. We traded poles, and I proceeded to catch several blue gill. Daulton kept telling me he didn't like me anymore. It took a little convincing, but I got Daulton to use his pole again with some worms for bait. He managed to catch a few blue gill of his own, but he wasn't content with that. He switched back to trying to catch bass but kept getting mad at me as I caught more blue gill.
As it was getting dark, I hooked a blue gill, but it managed to get itself tangled in a dead tree that had fallen in the pond. Anna's father said he would get in the boat, row out, and untangle it. Daulton decided he wanted to tag along. "Tag along" turned into "paddle the boat awkwardly around the pond." Anna, I think, had a ball watching her dad deal with Daulton. They did manage to get the fish untangled, but after they were done, Daulton decided he wanted to row around the pond. I don't know how Anna's dad had the patience to deal with that little adventure. During this trip, we discovered Daulton is scared of spiders. Anna and I were talking on the shore when we heard Daulton let out a squeal. We turned to watch him stand up and wildly brush himself off, screaming about daddy longlegs.
Daulton just kept getting crazier as the evening progressed. As we were picking up our poles and stuff to go in, Daulton actually jumped onto Anna's father's unsuspecting back and demanded a piggy-back ride. I was astounded at how calmly Anna's dad said that Daulton should probably carry in his own equipment and not be carried.
Once inside, Daulton said he was starving and wanted a hamburger, but he wouldn't eat a pre-formed patty. So Anna's mother was kind enough to thaw out some hamburger and fix him one. He didn't eat it. He decided he was fully. But apparently he wasn't full enough to keep him from wanting ice cream. He begged and begged for ice cream. He whined and cried for ice cream. We said heck no.
I guess, as I describe this evening, I realize how badly I'm failing to capture how hyperactive and overwhelming Daulton was tonight. We did tell him that if he continues to behave we might take him fishing again, but we'll call his dad and make sure he is behaving before we do. I'm not looking forward to it if it ever does happen again.
Don't worry. I feel bad. I will continue to do my best for the kid. But he drives me up the wall.
I'm hungry. I'm going to go fix another BLT. I will continue to eat BLTs until I run out of tomatoes from the in-laws' garden.
Goodnight, dear, better looking and more intelligent than the average person, readers.
Chief knocked a drink all over Anna's bedside table. It got on one of her books. She's mad at him.
This commercial I'm watching says that I could train as a "culinary professional." Fun.
Bobbie came by today wanting four more dollars worth of quarters. Again, she told me that she hadn't yet gotten her "warshin'" done. I just want to ask her what happened to all those quarters if she hasn't gotten her laundry done.
George got a new tv today. I helped him carry it into his apartment.
Most everyone has paid their rent for the month, but Marilyn still hasn't. I can't go to the bank until she pays.
Light blue.
Chief is circling my chair as I write this. I think he is contemplating what part of me to eat first when I die.
My dad is going elk hunting tomorrow. He's taking off two weeks, apparently. I am so so so jealous.
The Rockies lost tonight. My life is ruined.
Anna, I must apologize. But I'm having a love affair with this shiatsu massage chair.
So today was the day we had agreed to take Daulton fishing. As a result, I just spent an evening fishing with a hyperactive, prepubescent, roughly 15 year old boy. (On a side note, I have an impossible time understanding him when he talks. I think it is a combination of several things. First of all, he mumbles terribly. Secondly, he is a speed talker. Third, his grammar poor enough that it throws me sometimes. Fourth, he still talks like a little kid, and I've never been able to understand little children talking.) So, it should go without saying that I'm worn out.
I felt bad for Daulton earlier today. It started raining a little bit, while he was at the apartment, and he actually looked like he was going to cry because he thought we wouldn't be able to go fishing. I had to assure him that even if it did rain, we would still try to go.
His dad brought Daulton back from his parole meeting at five, and after a quick stop at Wal-mart for some worms, we headed to the in-laws. Daulton couldn't wait to get out of the car and to the pond. That was until we pulled into the driveway, and the dogs came up to the car. It took a couple minutes of coaxing before we could convince Daulton that the dogs weren't going to bite him.
We fished for about two hours. I ended up catching a couple bass pretty quickly, and this made Daulton mad. So he decided he wanted to use my pole. We traded poles, and I proceeded to catch several blue gill. Daulton kept telling me he didn't like me anymore. It took a little convincing, but I got Daulton to use his pole again with some worms for bait. He managed to catch a few blue gill of his own, but he wasn't content with that. He switched back to trying to catch bass but kept getting mad at me as I caught more blue gill.
As it was getting dark, I hooked a blue gill, but it managed to get itself tangled in a dead tree that had fallen in the pond. Anna's father said he would get in the boat, row out, and untangle it. Daulton decided he wanted to tag along. "Tag along" turned into "paddle the boat awkwardly around the pond." Anna, I think, had a ball watching her dad deal with Daulton. They did manage to get the fish untangled, but after they were done, Daulton decided he wanted to row around the pond. I don't know how Anna's dad had the patience to deal with that little adventure. During this trip, we discovered Daulton is scared of spiders. Anna and I were talking on the shore when we heard Daulton let out a squeal. We turned to watch him stand up and wildly brush himself off, screaming about daddy longlegs.
Daulton just kept getting crazier as the evening progressed. As we were picking up our poles and stuff to go in, Daulton actually jumped onto Anna's father's unsuspecting back and demanded a piggy-back ride. I was astounded at how calmly Anna's dad said that Daulton should probably carry in his own equipment and not be carried.
Once inside, Daulton said he was starving and wanted a hamburger, but he wouldn't eat a pre-formed patty. So Anna's mother was kind enough to thaw out some hamburger and fix him one. He didn't eat it. He decided he was fully. But apparently he wasn't full enough to keep him from wanting ice cream. He begged and begged for ice cream. He whined and cried for ice cream. We said heck no.
I guess, as I describe this evening, I realize how badly I'm failing to capture how hyperactive and overwhelming Daulton was tonight. We did tell him that if he continues to behave we might take him fishing again, but we'll call his dad and make sure he is behaving before we do. I'm not looking forward to it if it ever does happen again.
Don't worry. I feel bad. I will continue to do my best for the kid. But he drives me up the wall.
I'm hungry. I'm going to go fix another BLT. I will continue to eat BLTs until I run out of tomatoes from the in-laws' garden.
Goodnight, dear, better looking and more intelligent than the average person, readers.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
It's a zoo
Anna tells me that she's done getting new animals. I hope so. I don't think her allegies can take anymore. They're already on overload.
I went to Wally-world just now to get Anna some allergy medicine. She had been taking Claritin every day, but she's still been feeling gross. So I got her some Zyrtec. I also got her some stuff to spread around her nostrils that's supposed to help as well. Anna says that God hates her because He made her allergic to the things she loves the most. Apparently she doesn't love me the most.
I got a call from T.J. (Daulton's dad) today. I had told Daulton I would take him fishing tomorrow after we got done in the office. T.J. informed me that Daulton had a parole meeting tomorrow, but we agreed that he could bring Daulton over after the meeting so I could still take him. I don't particularly want to take Daulton fishing. He's rather overwhelming, but I think it might do him some good to spend time around people who haven't spent their lives either in jail or doing drugs.
My dad got a brand spanking new truck. I'm jealous.
The Rockies won.
McDaniels keeps denying that he will trade Brandon Marshall, but all the reports indicate that they are actively in trade talks about him. Now, I think Marshall is an idiot. I don't want him playing for the Broncos, but I don't want to give him what he wants. I think the Broncos should just suspend him for the season and refuse to trade him. I don't care if it hurts the team. The team is already hurting by having McDaniels as coach. They aren't going to get any better until they fire McDaniels.
Sarah came over today and met Daisy. They got along swell.
My sister transfered to the University of Northern Colorado in Greeley. She has now decided she doesn't like Greeley. Everyone knows that it smells, but she seemes to think that it's also really ghetto. I wouldn't know. I guess she has a mile and a half walk to school from her apartment, and it's through a part of town she finds creepy. This worries me. I hope she's got pepper spray or something.
I find myself lacking much else to say. Goodnight you crazy people.
I went to Wally-world just now to get Anna some allergy medicine. She had been taking Claritin every day, but she's still been feeling gross. So I got her some Zyrtec. I also got her some stuff to spread around her nostrils that's supposed to help as well. Anna says that God hates her because He made her allergic to the things she loves the most. Apparently she doesn't love me the most.
I got a call from T.J. (Daulton's dad) today. I had told Daulton I would take him fishing tomorrow after we got done in the office. T.J. informed me that Daulton had a parole meeting tomorrow, but we agreed that he could bring Daulton over after the meeting so I could still take him. I don't particularly want to take Daulton fishing. He's rather overwhelming, but I think it might do him some good to spend time around people who haven't spent their lives either in jail or doing drugs.
My dad got a brand spanking new truck. I'm jealous.
The Rockies won.
McDaniels keeps denying that he will trade Brandon Marshall, but all the reports indicate that they are actively in trade talks about him. Now, I think Marshall is an idiot. I don't want him playing for the Broncos, but I don't want to give him what he wants. I think the Broncos should just suspend him for the season and refuse to trade him. I don't care if it hurts the team. The team is already hurting by having McDaniels as coach. They aren't going to get any better until they fire McDaniels.
Sarah came over today and met Daisy. They got along swell.
My sister transfered to the University of Northern Colorado in Greeley. She has now decided she doesn't like Greeley. Everyone knows that it smells, but she seemes to think that it's also really ghetto. I wouldn't know. I guess she has a mile and a half walk to school from her apartment, and it's through a part of town she finds creepy. This worries me. I hope she's got pepper spray or something.
I find myself lacking much else to say. Goodnight you crazy people.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
As Previously Not Stated In the Future of Yesterday's Tomorrow
I forgot to mention this yesterday, but Bobbie came by again asking for quarters. She wanted change for $20 more. That brought her total to at least $60 for August. That's nearly one load of laundry washed and dried for every day of the month. And once again, she's "goin' to finish up [her] warshin'." Anna and I wonder if she has a stash of quarters somewhere. Maybe she just has a wall lined with stacks of quarters. And I've never seen her doing a single load of laundry.
Daisy has started to bark a little bit. Anna is employing the squirt-bottle-filled-with-acid method.
The Broncos' first and second string quarterbacks are both injured. Remember, these are first and second string quarterbacks who should really be third string quarterbacks. The Broncos' third string QB is named Tom Brandstater. The name at least sounds like an NFL name.
I ordered Pizza Hut tonight for dinner. They were offering a special on their new stuffed crust pan pizza thingy. I got that. Well, that's what I ordered. When I opened the box, that's not what I had. What I had was a regular pan pizza. I called the store, and the manager implied that they had received several such calls of the pizza not looking like it was supposed to. Whether or not what I received was officially the "stuffed" version, it was exactly like a regular pan pizza. So either they screwed up, or they are lying when they say they have a new pizza. He did give me a credit towards my next order. But I'm certainly not risking a try of this stuffed crust pan pizza again.
George tried to pay his rent in cash again this month. There are two problems with this. He didn't have enough cash, and I need a check or money order.
I may or may not have mentioned this before, but I had to arrange for a new company to take care of our waste removal. I hired Best Way. They brought out there own dumpster and took away our old one. Unfortunately, when I went out to throw trash away, I discovered that the dumpster was as tall as I am. Imagine old ladies trying to toss their trash into that. Best Way corrected the issue by bringing a sweet, new, really short dumpster that actually has this cool sliding lid on the back, so that old short people doing have to lift up on a regular lid. I applaud Best Way for this.
My debit card hasn't worked two of the last three times I tried to use it. One time it actually came back as saying cancelled. I called National City last night to figure out what was going on. They assured me that my account was fine and were willing to bet that I just needed a replacement card. That makes me feel better.
Anna's cousin Rachel came by today to order her textbooks and set up her student loans. It didn't go too well. It would seem that Indiana Wesleyan doesn't do a good job of providing information on the books students need for class. In one instance, the book list just said "Introduction to Psychology." Yeah, there are thousands of those. I think IWU just wants to force all their students to buy books at the campus bookstore.
My armpit itches.
Light blue horizontally striped boxer-briefs.
Earlier, we though Chief had puked on the floor. It turns out it was just a bunch of food that had clumped together with dried egg (Anna's been putting eggs into the cat food to help out Howie's fur).
Anna wants Daisy to play tug-o-war, but Daisy doesn't seem to understand the concept of the game.
I may have to use the bathroom soon. I'm not sure.
Todd Helton just homered for the Rockies. San Fransisco lost today, so provided the Rockies don't blow this lead, they'll be back in front of the wild-card.
I just kicked Chief. He was lying between my feet, and I didn't know it. He hardly even moved though. That cat isn't phased by anything.
Once again, I'm using the shiatsu massager given to me by my amazing mother-in-law.
Anna had me get a baby gate to set off the second bedroom so the cats could have a refuge from Daisy. Howie never leaves this room. Anna also decided that we should come up with a name for this room like "Jason" or something. So I told her I was going to "go screw around in Jason." We're awesome, aren't we?
Daisy has started to bark a little bit. Anna is employing the squirt-bottle-filled-with-acid method.
The Broncos' first and second string quarterbacks are both injured. Remember, these are first and second string quarterbacks who should really be third string quarterbacks. The Broncos' third string QB is named Tom Brandstater. The name at least sounds like an NFL name.
I ordered Pizza Hut tonight for dinner. They were offering a special on their new stuffed crust pan pizza thingy. I got that. Well, that's what I ordered. When I opened the box, that's not what I had. What I had was a regular pan pizza. I called the store, and the manager implied that they had received several such calls of the pizza not looking like it was supposed to. Whether or not what I received was officially the "stuffed" version, it was exactly like a regular pan pizza. So either they screwed up, or they are lying when they say they have a new pizza. He did give me a credit towards my next order. But I'm certainly not risking a try of this stuffed crust pan pizza again.
George tried to pay his rent in cash again this month. There are two problems with this. He didn't have enough cash, and I need a check or money order.
I may or may not have mentioned this before, but I had to arrange for a new company to take care of our waste removal. I hired Best Way. They brought out there own dumpster and took away our old one. Unfortunately, when I went out to throw trash away, I discovered that the dumpster was as tall as I am. Imagine old ladies trying to toss their trash into that. Best Way corrected the issue by bringing a sweet, new, really short dumpster that actually has this cool sliding lid on the back, so that old short people doing have to lift up on a regular lid. I applaud Best Way for this.
My debit card hasn't worked two of the last three times I tried to use it. One time it actually came back as saying cancelled. I called National City last night to figure out what was going on. They assured me that my account was fine and were willing to bet that I just needed a replacement card. That makes me feel better.
Anna's cousin Rachel came by today to order her textbooks and set up her student loans. It didn't go too well. It would seem that Indiana Wesleyan doesn't do a good job of providing information on the books students need for class. In one instance, the book list just said "Introduction to Psychology." Yeah, there are thousands of those. I think IWU just wants to force all their students to buy books at the campus bookstore.
My armpit itches.
Light blue horizontally striped boxer-briefs.
Earlier, we though Chief had puked on the floor. It turns out it was just a bunch of food that had clumped together with dried egg (Anna's been putting eggs into the cat food to help out Howie's fur).
Anna wants Daisy to play tug-o-war, but Daisy doesn't seem to understand the concept of the game.
I may have to use the bathroom soon. I'm not sure.
Todd Helton just homered for the Rockies. San Fransisco lost today, so provided the Rockies don't blow this lead, they'll be back in front of the wild-card.
I just kicked Chief. He was lying between my feet, and I didn't know it. He hardly even moved though. That cat isn't phased by anything.
Once again, I'm using the shiatsu massager given to me by my amazing mother-in-law.
Anna had me get a baby gate to set off the second bedroom so the cats could have a refuge from Daisy. Howie never leaves this room. Anna also decided that we should come up with a name for this room like "Jason" or something. So I told her I was going to "go screw around in Jason." We're awesome, aren't we?
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