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.
Friday, September 11, 2009
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?
Monday, August 31, 2009
Locked Up
The carpet cleaners came at ten this morning. Actually, they came just a little early, meaning that I wasn't yet dressed when they arrived and wanted into the building. The guy had a very crazy eye. To be honest, I couldn't have told you which eye was working correctly. He did a nice job on the carpet though. As far as I can tell, all of the stains came out.
While he was doing the carpets, I went to George's apartment to check on his disposal. He had mentioned to me this weekend that something wasn't working. I had no idea what he was saying, but I could tell it wasn't an emergency so I had said I'd check on it Monday. So, true to my word, I asked him what was wrong and he demonstrated that the garbage disposal was not working. Nothing happened when I threw the switch, so I crawled under his sink to have a look. This was the first one I've had to mess with, so I quickly crawled back out and decided to call Karen and see what she recommended before I made anything worse. It turns out there is a reset switch at the bottom of the disposal. I crawled back under, pressed it, and almost peed my pants. The switch had been left in the on position and that thing came roaring to life right over my head, sounding like it was trying to grind up a human corpse. After I got it shut back off, I went and found a flashlight and some pliers and had a look down the drain. I ended up pulling a four inch long piece of clear plastic from who knows what and tried again. It made the same awful noise. I looked again. Finally, I found a little inch long piece of crystal (quartz maybe) and removed that. Who knows how that got in there. But it's all fixed now.
When Daulton showed up he told me that his teacher/prison guard or whatever that guy is had said he would come by today to check on him. Since the carpet guy was here, Daulton couldn't vacuum, so I just had him sit and watch out the window for the guy and should he see him, I would have had him start cleaning the windows. The guy never came.
Taz boxers of Taz boxers.
Daisy had her first trip to the vet today. She did fine. We got her some flea medicine and heart-worm preventative. She was also microchipped. Anna asked the vet how old he though she was and he guessed three, not quite four months. That's bad. If that's really the case than she is going to get much bigger than we want. Let's all hope he's wrong.
Ever lay in bed and contemplate death and absolute non-existence? Ever thought about what it would really mean if all the atheists are right? I did last night and freaked myself out a good one. I'm still kind of messed up.
I took a shower last night, but I didn't shave. I suppose that really means I should shave tonight.
I would like to get my hair cut soon. It's in the in between stage of long and short, and I don't like it like this. I like it short, and I like it really long. In between, I just look like a goober.
Anna craves Fazoli's like I crave Chinese.
Or Chick-Fil-A.
I was discussing Chick-Fil-A with my brother today. I was lamenting that even with his transition from ASU, which had a restaurant on campus, back to Colorado Springs, he was not without easy access to that glorious goodness. I, on the other hand, traded in a state without a single Chick-Fil-A for one that had it but an hour away. Which is like having none at all if your wife prefers Fazoli's.
Howie just pooped, and it was really stinky. It was so stinky that I was afraid he hadn't used the litter box. But after checking the whole room with a flashlight, I have determined that he did indeed use the litter box. He just has really stinky poop.
Fernie is just cruising right along.
Daisy still hasn't had any accidents here.
Anna was trying to teach Daisy some tricks, but it seems she may already know "sit" and "beg." I guess next we'll have to teach her to "go fix dinner."
I think I'm going to go attempt a BLT with those tomatoes I stole yesterday. And no Sara, I am not going to try it with peanut butter, but I am going to make my own special kicked up mayo for it (chipotle and ancho chile powders, cajun seasoning, and the like).
I only just discovered the wonders of chipotle chile powder this year. Thank you, Foodnetwork.
p.s. Once again, I have forgotten something. In this case, I completely forgot the reason for my title. When got got back from the vet, we discovered that Howie had spent the whole time locked up in our bedroom. We had been keeping the door shut so that Anna could have a sanctuary from pet dander, but apparently, he surmounted our defences. Though somehow, he failed to consider a line of retreat once he did.
While he was doing the carpets, I went to George's apartment to check on his disposal. He had mentioned to me this weekend that something wasn't working. I had no idea what he was saying, but I could tell it wasn't an emergency so I had said I'd check on it Monday. So, true to my word, I asked him what was wrong and he demonstrated that the garbage disposal was not working. Nothing happened when I threw the switch, so I crawled under his sink to have a look. This was the first one I've had to mess with, so I quickly crawled back out and decided to call Karen and see what she recommended before I made anything worse. It turns out there is a reset switch at the bottom of the disposal. I crawled back under, pressed it, and almost peed my pants. The switch had been left in the on position and that thing came roaring to life right over my head, sounding like it was trying to grind up a human corpse. After I got it shut back off, I went and found a flashlight and some pliers and had a look down the drain. I ended up pulling a four inch long piece of clear plastic from who knows what and tried again. It made the same awful noise. I looked again. Finally, I found a little inch long piece of crystal (quartz maybe) and removed that. Who knows how that got in there. But it's all fixed now.
When Daulton showed up he told me that his teacher/prison guard or whatever that guy is had said he would come by today to check on him. Since the carpet guy was here, Daulton couldn't vacuum, so I just had him sit and watch out the window for the guy and should he see him, I would have had him start cleaning the windows. The guy never came.
Taz boxers of Taz boxers.
Daisy had her first trip to the vet today. She did fine. We got her some flea medicine and heart-worm preventative. She was also microchipped. Anna asked the vet how old he though she was and he guessed three, not quite four months. That's bad. If that's really the case than she is going to get much bigger than we want. Let's all hope he's wrong.
Ever lay in bed and contemplate death and absolute non-existence? Ever thought about what it would really mean if all the atheists are right? I did last night and freaked myself out a good one. I'm still kind of messed up.
I took a shower last night, but I didn't shave. I suppose that really means I should shave tonight.
I would like to get my hair cut soon. It's in the in between stage of long and short, and I don't like it like this. I like it short, and I like it really long. In between, I just look like a goober.
Anna craves Fazoli's like I crave Chinese.
Or Chick-Fil-A.
I was discussing Chick-Fil-A with my brother today. I was lamenting that even with his transition from ASU, which had a restaurant on campus, back to Colorado Springs, he was not without easy access to that glorious goodness. I, on the other hand, traded in a state without a single Chick-Fil-A for one that had it but an hour away. Which is like having none at all if your wife prefers Fazoli's.
Howie just pooped, and it was really stinky. It was so stinky that I was afraid he hadn't used the litter box. But after checking the whole room with a flashlight, I have determined that he did indeed use the litter box. He just has really stinky poop.
Fernie is just cruising right along.
Daisy still hasn't had any accidents here.
Anna was trying to teach Daisy some tricks, but it seems she may already know "sit" and "beg." I guess next we'll have to teach her to "go fix dinner."
I think I'm going to go attempt a BLT with those tomatoes I stole yesterday. And no Sara, I am not going to try it with peanut butter, but I am going to make my own special kicked up mayo for it (chipotle and ancho chile powders, cajun seasoning, and the like).
I only just discovered the wonders of chipotle chile powder this year. Thank you, Foodnetwork.
p.s. Once again, I have forgotten something. In this case, I completely forgot the reason for my title. When got got back from the vet, we discovered that Howie had spent the whole time locked up in our bedroom. We had been keeping the door shut so that Anna could have a sanctuary from pet dander, but apparently, he surmounted our defences. Though somehow, he failed to consider a line of retreat once he did.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Crazy Daisy Doozy Floozy
So, uh, we have a dog. We got her Friday night. Anna finally decided today that her name is Daisy. She had been calling her Josie, but her name is now officially Daisy because that's what we had engraved on her tag.
Because of this adventure of getting a dog on Friday afternoon, I was up really late Friday night trying to get ready for the pancake breakfast I had promised the residents. I think I finally went to bed sometime around three and then got up early to start cooking and such. I think the breakfast went well. I made pancakes (duh), bacon, and a mixed fruit thingy. I think roughly two-thirds of the residents stopped in and ate. They seemed appreciative.
Daisy is roughly six months old.
Chief scratched my foot really badly today. I have this bloody streak running from mid-foot all the way onto my pinkie toe. It's the worst thing that has ever happened to me.
Daisy has yet to have an accident at our place, but she did poop on the floor at the in-laws'.
The Broncos just lost to the Bears. This doesn't really matter since it is still preseason, but I have a strong feeling that the regular season isn't going to look much different than tonight's game.
The last few games the Rockies' offense disappeared, and then tonight, they couldn't hold a strong lead. Sometimes it's worse to have a team in the mix because it sure makes it harder on you when they lose.
When we first got Daisy, I said she looked like a Saint Bernard. Anna thought I was stupid. Then when her parents saw Daisy, they said she looked like a Saint Bernard. Anna is now terrified that she has Saint Bernard in her and will grow too big for this apartment.
I just finished doing some laundry.
I've decided I really like having a DVR for watching sports. I used it several times during the Broncos' game. Though to be honest, I used it more to re-watch commercials than anything related to the game.
Did anyone else watch the Broncos' game? Did you pay attention to the plays that McDaniels chose to challenge? Is he not the stupidest man ever?
Also during the game, the Bears were called for a late hit on the Broncos' QB. It was an awful call. The Bears' player had already leapt (On a side note, Blogger's spell check doesn't recognize "leapt" as a correctly spelled word. Weird) at the QB when he threw the ball, and yet it was called a late hit. This is absurd. Let QBs get hit for goodness sake. They wear pads. They are football players, right?
Anna fed Daisy some rib bones leftover from her father's lunch. Daisy devoured those suckers like they were nothing.
After the pancake breakfast, Anna's parents helped us repaint the vacant apartment. It took us roughly five hours of the four of us working to get the whole thing painted. I am so glad they offered to help. I would have spent forever doing that on my own.
After we finished painting, I took a quick shower, and then Anna and I drove up to Anderson to meet up with Anna's friend Angela and her boyfriend. We decided to get dinner at BW3s. I ate hot wings. Anna ate a wrap. My food was manly. Hers was girly. It's a good thing I'm the guy, huh? I had Asian Zing, Caribbean Jerk, and Spicy Garlic wings. Those are my three favorites. I think it's just a coincidence that those are all right next to each other on the BW3s scale of hotness. I've had hotter ones, and I was fine. I've had both the Hot and the Mango Habenero, which are way up the scale. I just really enjoy the flavor of those three in the middle. I do think though that they have the Asian Zing and the Spicy Garlic in the wrong order on their chart. They have the Zing charted as hotter, but I swear the Spicy Garlic is hotter.
After we finished eating, we all played euchre for a little bit. We were tied at four each when we looked at the time and realized we'd been there over two hours and that we needed to go. So we decided to stop the game at six. Though honestly, I think our cutting the game short may have had more to do with the table of guys that were smoking this awful cigars than the time. Angela and I prevailed in a closely contested battle that came down to the last card.
Howie and Chief don't seem to know what to think about Daisy.
The church that was interested in Anna's father as pastor took a vote on him today. He got 100% approval. This is a very small church, but that's still a rather unusual thing. I guess he and Anna's mother went there tonight to talk to the congregation and answer questions. Apparently several of the questions had to do with whether or not Anna and I would be around much. I think they want Anna to sing and lead music. We'll see.
We took Lucy's old crate and have given it to Daisy. She hasn't had any problems adapting to it. As far as I know, she's willingly sleeping in it as I write this.
I really should take a shower tonight and shave. I really don't want to do either of those things.
Dark blue.
Anna thinks Daisy is some sort of terrier mix.
I stole some tomatoes from the in-laws today. I'm looking forward to a good BLT.
I'm currently making use of the shiatsu massager I got from Anna's mother a couple years ago. My back is a little stiff and sore from painting. I'm an old man.
I'm sorry I haven't updated this thing in a couple days. Daisy, painting, and cooking have been occupying too much of my time.
Check back tomorrow for another installment in the amazing adventures of the Hoffs.
p.s. I forgot all about this in all the excitement of the last couple days. Fernie seems to have made a complete recovery. He went from being 99% dead and dried out on the floor to being just fine. Honest to goodness, when I picked him up off the floor, I was sure he was dead. I really can't explain why I even dropped him back into the tank. He was stiff. He was dry. He made no movement whatsoever. I should have just thrown him away. I guess I just wanted to do something with him until Anna woke up and could say goodbye, and I didn't want to just leave him on the floor until then. And voila, he is alive. Though roughly half of all of his fins have fallen off. I guess they dried up too much and died.
Because of this adventure of getting a dog on Friday afternoon, I was up really late Friday night trying to get ready for the pancake breakfast I had promised the residents. I think I finally went to bed sometime around three and then got up early to start cooking and such. I think the breakfast went well. I made pancakes (duh), bacon, and a mixed fruit thingy. I think roughly two-thirds of the residents stopped in and ate. They seemed appreciative.
Daisy is roughly six months old.
Chief scratched my foot really badly today. I have this bloody streak running from mid-foot all the way onto my pinkie toe. It's the worst thing that has ever happened to me.
Daisy has yet to have an accident at our place, but she did poop on the floor at the in-laws'.
The Broncos just lost to the Bears. This doesn't really matter since it is still preseason, but I have a strong feeling that the regular season isn't going to look much different than tonight's game.
The last few games the Rockies' offense disappeared, and then tonight, they couldn't hold a strong lead. Sometimes it's worse to have a team in the mix because it sure makes it harder on you when they lose.
When we first got Daisy, I said she looked like a Saint Bernard. Anna thought I was stupid. Then when her parents saw Daisy, they said she looked like a Saint Bernard. Anna is now terrified that she has Saint Bernard in her and will grow too big for this apartment.
I just finished doing some laundry.
I've decided I really like having a DVR for watching sports. I used it several times during the Broncos' game. Though to be honest, I used it more to re-watch commercials than anything related to the game.
Did anyone else watch the Broncos' game? Did you pay attention to the plays that McDaniels chose to challenge? Is he not the stupidest man ever?
Also during the game, the Bears were called for a late hit on the Broncos' QB. It was an awful call. The Bears' player had already leapt (On a side note, Blogger's spell check doesn't recognize "leapt" as a correctly spelled word. Weird) at the QB when he threw the ball, and yet it was called a late hit. This is absurd. Let QBs get hit for goodness sake. They wear pads. They are football players, right?
Anna fed Daisy some rib bones leftover from her father's lunch. Daisy devoured those suckers like they were nothing.
After the pancake breakfast, Anna's parents helped us repaint the vacant apartment. It took us roughly five hours of the four of us working to get the whole thing painted. I am so glad they offered to help. I would have spent forever doing that on my own.
After we finished painting, I took a quick shower, and then Anna and I drove up to Anderson to meet up with Anna's friend Angela and her boyfriend. We decided to get dinner at BW3s. I ate hot wings. Anna ate a wrap. My food was manly. Hers was girly. It's a good thing I'm the guy, huh? I had Asian Zing, Caribbean Jerk, and Spicy Garlic wings. Those are my three favorites. I think it's just a coincidence that those are all right next to each other on the BW3s scale of hotness. I've had hotter ones, and I was fine. I've had both the Hot and the Mango Habenero, which are way up the scale. I just really enjoy the flavor of those three in the middle. I do think though that they have the Asian Zing and the Spicy Garlic in the wrong order on their chart. They have the Zing charted as hotter, but I swear the Spicy Garlic is hotter.
After we finished eating, we all played euchre for a little bit. We were tied at four each when we looked at the time and realized we'd been there over two hours and that we needed to go. So we decided to stop the game at six. Though honestly, I think our cutting the game short may have had more to do with the table of guys that were smoking this awful cigars than the time. Angela and I prevailed in a closely contested battle that came down to the last card.
Howie and Chief don't seem to know what to think about Daisy.
The church that was interested in Anna's father as pastor took a vote on him today. He got 100% approval. This is a very small church, but that's still a rather unusual thing. I guess he and Anna's mother went there tonight to talk to the congregation and answer questions. Apparently several of the questions had to do with whether or not Anna and I would be around much. I think they want Anna to sing and lead music. We'll see.
We took Lucy's old crate and have given it to Daisy. She hasn't had any problems adapting to it. As far as I know, she's willingly sleeping in it as I write this.
I really should take a shower tonight and shave. I really don't want to do either of those things.
Dark blue.
Anna thinks Daisy is some sort of terrier mix.
I stole some tomatoes from the in-laws today. I'm looking forward to a good BLT.
I'm currently making use of the shiatsu massager I got from Anna's mother a couple years ago. My back is a little stiff and sore from painting. I'm an old man.
I'm sorry I haven't updated this thing in a couple days. Daisy, painting, and cooking have been occupying too much of my time.
Check back tomorrow for another installment in the amazing adventures of the Hoffs.
p.s. I forgot all about this in all the excitement of the last couple days. Fernie seems to have made a complete recovery. He went from being 99% dead and dried out on the floor to being just fine. Honest to goodness, when I picked him up off the floor, I was sure he was dead. I really can't explain why I even dropped him back into the tank. He was stiff. He was dry. He made no movement whatsoever. I should have just thrown him away. I guess I just wanted to do something with him until Anna woke up and could say goodbye, and I didn't want to just leave him on the floor until then. And voila, he is alive. Though roughly half of all of his fins have fallen off. I guess they dried up too much and died.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Still Kickin'
Fernie's still kicking. And by that, I mean that his gills haven't stopped moving. Otherwise, he's pretty much the same. Though it kind of looks like the ends of all his fins are going to fall off. Maybe that's a good thing? Maybe it just means that the rest of him is healing?
Daulton and I cleaned and organized one of the storage closets today.
I've been trying to get in contact with a carpet cleaning service to have the complex cleaned. I called them yesterday, and they told me they'd call back with a quote. They did call back with a quote, but I tried three different times to get a hold of them today to schedule cleaning and didn't get an answer.
Light blue boxers with no modesty button (I don't know what to call this button, but that's pretty much the best description of it). I'm so unwholesome.
I went to Wally-world tonight. It was exciting, let me tell you what. I'm joyously celebrating the return of AriZona Pomegranate Green Tea to their shelves.
Anna wants a dog.
Daulton really likes to talk smack to me. As I said, he's fourteen (nearly fifteen) and looks like he's twelve. If he's hit puberty then it has only just happened. He likes to act tough. I guess it's a classic example of a Napoleon Complex. Though a quick bit of research tells me that psychologists have yet to declare this a real condition. But there's a flaw in their research. In their studies on the subject, they tried to see if short men were more aggressive. That isn't the issue at all. Short men in general having nothing to do with it. It's an issue of short men on an individual level, and I guarantee there are a lot of short men compensating for their height. Psychologists can be idiots.
I replaced the toilet seat on our toilet with one that has a lid. Anna likes there to be a lid on her toilet seat. I think the idea is that this now gives me something that I have to raise and lower each time I use the toilet.
While I was switching toilet seats, Chief was stealing the parts necessary to make the switch. At one point, I had to crawl under the futon to retrieve a piece he had carried off.
We have a ridiculously awesome and comfortable bed. And it wasn't even one of the expensive ones. It's so perfect.
I'm ridiculously awesome and comfortable and so perfect. You wish you were me.
Want in on a secret? One of the reasons I've been blogging so much is that it gives me an opportunity to sit at my computer and listen to my music. I love my music. You should love my music too. If you don't love my music then you are not awesome, attractive, or intelligent like me (though I suppose this doesn't preclude that you still may be awesome, attractive, and intelligent in your own way).
But if you are seriously looking into hearing some incredibly awesome music, check out Maylene & the Sons of Disaster. "III" is just so good. No, it's not the heaviest stuff out there. But it's some of the nastiest, dirtiest, grittiest, incredibliest rock music ever.
And don't think I'm forgetting Project 86 because if you don't pick up "Picket Fence Cartel" you are a failure at being alive.
It's time for my midnight snack. They say you shouldn't eat after eight or so at night, but that's for people who get up at weird times like 8 a.m. or something. I on the other hand am completely normal and won't go to bed until three or four.
So go listen to some Maylene while I got eat. I mean it too. Just give it a chance. It's just so much fun. Seriously. Even you Jana, you need to listen to it. And if you cry, then you are doing it wrong. If your ears bleed, you're probably doing it right. Just try to appreciate it. Please? For me? Please? Tell Jeremy to grow out his hair and bring back the beard, and he can join the band and pretend he's from the deep dirty south.
Daulton and I cleaned and organized one of the storage closets today.
I've been trying to get in contact with a carpet cleaning service to have the complex cleaned. I called them yesterday, and they told me they'd call back with a quote. They did call back with a quote, but I tried three different times to get a hold of them today to schedule cleaning and didn't get an answer.
Light blue boxers with no modesty button (I don't know what to call this button, but that's pretty much the best description of it). I'm so unwholesome.
I went to Wally-world tonight. It was exciting, let me tell you what. I'm joyously celebrating the return of AriZona Pomegranate Green Tea to their shelves.
Anna wants a dog.
Daulton really likes to talk smack to me. As I said, he's fourteen (nearly fifteen) and looks like he's twelve. If he's hit puberty then it has only just happened. He likes to act tough. I guess it's a classic example of a Napoleon Complex. Though a quick bit of research tells me that psychologists have yet to declare this a real condition. But there's a flaw in their research. In their studies on the subject, they tried to see if short men were more aggressive. That isn't the issue at all. Short men in general having nothing to do with it. It's an issue of short men on an individual level, and I guarantee there are a lot of short men compensating for their height. Psychologists can be idiots.
I replaced the toilet seat on our toilet with one that has a lid. Anna likes there to be a lid on her toilet seat. I think the idea is that this now gives me something that I have to raise and lower each time I use the toilet.
While I was switching toilet seats, Chief was stealing the parts necessary to make the switch. At one point, I had to crawl under the futon to retrieve a piece he had carried off.
We have a ridiculously awesome and comfortable bed. And it wasn't even one of the expensive ones. It's so perfect.
I'm ridiculously awesome and comfortable and so perfect. You wish you were me.
Want in on a secret? One of the reasons I've been blogging so much is that it gives me an opportunity to sit at my computer and listen to my music. I love my music. You should love my music too. If you don't love my music then you are not awesome, attractive, or intelligent like me (though I suppose this doesn't preclude that you still may be awesome, attractive, and intelligent in your own way).
But if you are seriously looking into hearing some incredibly awesome music, check out Maylene & the Sons of Disaster. "III" is just so good. No, it's not the heaviest stuff out there. But it's some of the nastiest, dirtiest, grittiest, incredibliest rock music ever.
And don't think I'm forgetting Project 86 because if you don't pick up "Picket Fence Cartel" you are a failure at being alive.
It's time for my midnight snack. They say you shouldn't eat after eight or so at night, but that's for people who get up at weird times like 8 a.m. or something. I on the other hand am completely normal and won't go to bed until three or four.
So go listen to some Maylene while I got eat. I mean it too. Just give it a chance. It's just so much fun. Seriously. Even you Jana, you need to listen to it. And if you cry, then you are doing it wrong. If your ears bleed, you're probably doing it right. Just try to appreciate it. Please? For me? Please? Tell Jeremy to grow out his hair and bring back the beard, and he can join the band and pretend he's from the deep dirty south.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)