The Friday Five
1. What's your favorite piece of clothing that you currently own?
My swimsuit. I know, it's weird. I just like how near naked I feel when I swim and I like how comfortable my speedo is, i.e., it keeps my boobs from knocking around. Other than that, I've got a really comfortable pair of Clark sandals. They aren't pretty, but they're really super comfortable. I'm going to be sad when the first frost hits and I can't wear them til next May. Seasons are a bitch I'd like to slap.
2. What piece of clothing do you most want to acquire?
Beautiful batik dresses.
3. What piece of clothing can you not bring yourself to get rid of? Why?
Size 10 Turquoise silk dress from Saks Fifth Avenue. I bought it when I was in San Francisco at the Saks on Union Square. It was the first dress I'd ever spent over $30 on. It was $100 at the time and that was 18 years ago, when $100 meant more. It's still perfect. I think it represents a terrible time in my life and if I can't burn the pictures, then I can't get rid of that dress. We have a large fireplace though and I'm thinking it'll be a long winter with those pictures and my husband would gladly hold my hand while I torched every single one of them.
4. What piece of clothing do you look your best in?
I look fantastic in my $200 navy suit from Macy's. I look so corporate, it'd scare most anyone. I look slim, trim and efficient. I'll have to get it back on and show you one of these days, but I think I'm too fat. (I can't apply for another job, I can't fit into my suit!) I also look great in dresses that have a bodice of some kind and a flared skirt on the bottom. The dress I get the most comments on is one I made, but it's in a heap in the closet. (I hate ironing!)
5. What has been your biggest fashion accident?
About the time I wore a babydoll dress that I didn't realize had shrunk (thanks, honey!) that was way too short and bent over. I had an officemate say something about seeing way too much. I immediately left the office and went and bought a skirt and shirt at the mall at that EXACT moment, due to excessive mortification. You have to understand that that was back when my only mirror was one of those up on the wall over the medicine cupboard over the sink jobs where you can see your boobs and that's it. I've also had the old "dress stuck in the pantyhose show the world my underwear experience." I had thought that only fat chicks had that, but then I had to stop some poor skinny soul at UCD and walk behind her into the bathroom because she'd done the same thing.
Friday, August 30, 2002
This morning, I had stranger sex.
We didn't use condoms or anything as we probably should have. I'm rather daring that way sometimes, well, and allergic to rubber.
He's tall, dark, and handsome. I've had people tell me wonderful things about him, so I rather expected great things. I didn't realize he was such a perv, though!
He started kissing on me and rubbing my back the way I love and I asked him,"Who are you?" He said,"Just some poor horny bastard."
I said,"What will my husband say?" He said,"Who's he?"
As I drowsed awake after our sex-induced slumber, I looked down at his left hand and saw my wedding ring. For a minute, I was nervous he was a thief and then I saw the glint of my matching ring in our intertwined fingers. Then I smiled.
We didn't use condoms or anything as we probably should have. I'm rather daring that way sometimes, well, and allergic to rubber.
He's tall, dark, and handsome. I've had people tell me wonderful things about him, so I rather expected great things. I didn't realize he was such a perv, though!
He started kissing on me and rubbing my back the way I love and I asked him,"Who are you?" He said,"Just some poor horny bastard."
I said,"What will my husband say?" He said,"Who's he?"
As I drowsed awake after our sex-induced slumber, I looked down at his left hand and saw my wedding ring. For a minute, I was nervous he was a thief and then I saw the glint of my matching ring in our intertwined fingers. Then I smiled.
Wednesday, August 28, 2002
I told my husband this and it still holds true, if I am duking it out with the bank, I can be assured a refund if I work with a guy every single time. If I get a chick, I'm going to pay like hell!
I made a cash deposit on Monday night 10 minutes after 6 because well, I've been working long horrible hours. That deposit was to cover a check I'd written to for stuff for Mike's grandmother. Not only did they charge me, but even though they could see the deposit there...they bounced it!
Not only did I miss their apparently well-publicized cutoff time, I got this bitch the bank riding my ass for "floating a check" and how that was against bank policy, etc., and did I need a copy of their policy? This after I talked to someone Monday, right after the deposit who told me I was fine. They said that they would front me up to $300 on an atm withdrawal, but they wouldn't pay the fucking check, even though they could clearly see the deposit I'd made! I'd have been mad, but ok, if they'd cleared the check and dinged me, but they not only dinged me, but then BOUNCED the check! The problem with that is that the store will also charge me now. Isn't it loverly?
I am sooo changing banks. I told Mike I'm getting an account at some obscure bank in the next state that has a branch locally.
I made a cash deposit on Monday night 10 minutes after 6 because well, I've been working long horrible hours. That deposit was to cover a check I'd written to for stuff for Mike's grandmother. Not only did they charge me, but even though they could see the deposit there...they bounced it!
Not only did I miss their apparently well-publicized cutoff time, I got this bitch the bank riding my ass for "floating a check" and how that was against bank policy, etc., and did I need a copy of their policy? This after I talked to someone Monday, right after the deposit who told me I was fine. They said that they would front me up to $300 on an atm withdrawal, but they wouldn't pay the fucking check, even though they could clearly see the deposit I'd made! I'd have been mad, but ok, if they'd cleared the check and dinged me, but they not only dinged me, but then BOUNCED the check! The problem with that is that the store will also charge me now. Isn't it loverly?
I am sooo changing banks. I told Mike I'm getting an account at some obscure bank in the next state that has a branch locally.
Tuesday, August 27, 2002
I'm pretty sick right now. My sugars have suddenly shot up. I feel like trash and it sucks.
I ate next to nothing last night -- just a slice of leftover pizza -- and my sugars this morning were a fasting of 135. My ankles look akin to bowling balls because they're swollen from my bad sugars.
I called the doctor. I know I've put some weight back on with the horrible hours, but this is just weird. Next week, I'll be able to exercise by swimming mornings at the pool and that should help, but in the interim, I feel perpetually hung over. Bleah.
After a 3 carb lunch today, my sugars should have been okay, but I was feeling pretty spacy, so I took a walk and they were 119, so I did good there, but I think the lack of sleep and the couple days of high sugars are fucking me up no end.
I just keep telling myself, "one more week." It's my mantra any more. I just have to get through the weekend and I get big bucks. I just have to get there first.
I start a VB class tonight. What's odd is that the last time I tried to take a VB class, I had to drop it because felt lousy. A month later, I got diagnosed with diabetes. God can be such an ironic little shit, huh?
I ate next to nothing last night -- just a slice of leftover pizza -- and my sugars this morning were a fasting of 135. My ankles look akin to bowling balls because they're swollen from my bad sugars.
I called the doctor. I know I've put some weight back on with the horrible hours, but this is just weird. Next week, I'll be able to exercise by swimming mornings at the pool and that should help, but in the interim, I feel perpetually hung over. Bleah.
After a 3 carb lunch today, my sugars should have been okay, but I was feeling pretty spacy, so I took a walk and they were 119, so I did good there, but I think the lack of sleep and the couple days of high sugars are fucking me up no end.
I just keep telling myself, "one more week." It's my mantra any more. I just have to get through the weekend and I get big bucks. I just have to get there first.
I start a VB class tonight. What's odd is that the last time I tried to take a VB class, I had to drop it because felt lousy. A month later, I got diagnosed with diabetes. God can be such an ironic little shit, huh?
Friday, August 23, 2002
Yesterday was a special trip to Work Hell and what was really odd is that I was totally digging it. Yes, I felt like a whirling dervish on crack, but it was exhilirating as hell.
And today, my boss said,"You're doing a great job, Wendy." *preen*
When he told me that he wanted me to monitor people's hours, I got nervous. I simply said that while I can work 50 hour weeks for a few more weeks that my daycare couldn't support that indefinitely. He agreed and said that after a couple weeks that it was cool to go to 40-45. Of course, I will probably do stuff from home, too.
Also next week, I start classes. I'm taking a VB class which would be very useful for my job and I'm taking some quilting, volleyball, and grant writing classes. It amounts to 6 units over the semester which means I can stave off the slobbering student loan hounds. I am not sure why I am taking the grant class, other than it amounts to putting my writing skills to use in some way. Who knows, I may be able to go ahead and start writing grants for folks as a side business.
I know I am kind of disjointed here, but I am a decent writer. I have a writer friend, who says I'm cool because I actually take the time to write a letter when I send him email. He and I have a history of sending each other all kinds of mail, but he always marvels at that aspect of me.
I do write single liners to my husband, but we're usually trying to take care of house stuff between busy work schedules.
I've only got one more week of these long horrible hours and then things should settle down to a reasonable scream of pace.
And I don't know what to think of myself. I'm itchy for my own home space. I sewed up matching pillow covers to go with my curtains. And since the scorpions, dude, I LOVE walking into my clean room. I'll admit that the bottom of the closet needs help and that the cedar chest needs to be cleared, but I think I am just going to take everything and start listing it on ebay in small lots and sell it. If it doesn't go, I put it in a pile for Salvation Army or something.
Oh, more non sequitur. Every time I think Salvation Army, I remember falling asleep through "Major Barbara" at the Ashland Shakespeare Festival and then just feeling bad about it. It was a really awesome set -- a rotating set in three sections that turned for whatever set was needed. Part of the falling asleep part was being up half the night watching "Julius Caesar" (my GOD it's about the suckiest Willy play) and then getting up at the buttcrack of dawn to get tickets at the ticket office. Oh, to be a new college graduate again. I only wish I'd been able to get to see "Taming of the Shrew" because it's one of my favorite plays. We could only get one ticket and not two and we didn't want to go without the other because that's half the fun of seeing a play -- seeing it with a friend and then bitching/marveling about it afterwards. I went with my friend, Leno, who had endured Shakespeare with the same horrible professor I had endured. This was the professor who specialized in the cross-dressing aspects of several of Shakespeare's plays. We were all pretty sure he was a crossdresser himself and if there was a professor who could KILL Shakespeare's comedies, it was certainly Professor Schleiner.
It must be a Friday afternoon, because all I want to do is listen to music, drink diet code red, and fantasize about kissing my husband for hours and hours.
And today, my boss said,"You're doing a great job, Wendy." *preen*
When he told me that he wanted me to monitor people's hours, I got nervous. I simply said that while I can work 50 hour weeks for a few more weeks that my daycare couldn't support that indefinitely. He agreed and said that after a couple weeks that it was cool to go to 40-45. Of course, I will probably do stuff from home, too.
Also next week, I start classes. I'm taking a VB class which would be very useful for my job and I'm taking some quilting, volleyball, and grant writing classes. It amounts to 6 units over the semester which means I can stave off the slobbering student loan hounds. I am not sure why I am taking the grant class, other than it amounts to putting my writing skills to use in some way. Who knows, I may be able to go ahead and start writing grants for folks as a side business.
I know I am kind of disjointed here, but I am a decent writer. I have a writer friend, who says I'm cool because I actually take the time to write a letter when I send him email. He and I have a history of sending each other all kinds of mail, but he always marvels at that aspect of me.
I do write single liners to my husband, but we're usually trying to take care of house stuff between busy work schedules.
I've only got one more week of these long horrible hours and then things should settle down to a reasonable scream of pace.
And I don't know what to think of myself. I'm itchy for my own home space. I sewed up matching pillow covers to go with my curtains. And since the scorpions, dude, I LOVE walking into my clean room. I'll admit that the bottom of the closet needs help and that the cedar chest needs to be cleared, but I think I am just going to take everything and start listing it on ebay in small lots and sell it. If it doesn't go, I put it in a pile for Salvation Army or something.
Oh, more non sequitur. Every time I think Salvation Army, I remember falling asleep through "Major Barbara" at the Ashland Shakespeare Festival and then just feeling bad about it. It was a really awesome set -- a rotating set in three sections that turned for whatever set was needed. Part of the falling asleep part was being up half the night watching "Julius Caesar" (my GOD it's about the suckiest Willy play) and then getting up at the buttcrack of dawn to get tickets at the ticket office. Oh, to be a new college graduate again. I only wish I'd been able to get to see "Taming of the Shrew" because it's one of my favorite plays. We could only get one ticket and not two and we didn't want to go without the other because that's half the fun of seeing a play -- seeing it with a friend and then bitching/marveling about it afterwards. I went with my friend, Leno, who had endured Shakespeare with the same horrible professor I had endured. This was the professor who specialized in the cross-dressing aspects of several of Shakespeare's plays. We were all pretty sure he was a crossdresser himself and if there was a professor who could KILL Shakespeare's comedies, it was certainly Professor Schleiner.
It must be a Friday afternoon, because all I want to do is listen to music, drink diet code red, and fantasize about kissing my husband for hours and hours.
Wednesday, August 21, 2002
Today I walked into 18 emails, all of which required an action on my part at work. While I was trying to answer the requested actions in those, I got about 18 more...and that's how my day has been all day.
I've been scurrying like a hellbunny all day. I finally realized I needed a break. I sat and ate a sliver of razzleberry pie in the lobby. It seems like a small thing, but when you've sent different version of the same email to 5 people and you're addressing the wrong Jeff in it, you figure you need a break. You know?
The good news, is that if I am this busy, I'm doing my job well.
Tonight, I have to remember to be well mannered for a dinner with one of my husband's company's clients. It's supposed to be something rather nice and ritzy, so we have to dress up. We both had to pack up our suits in the car. I was going to wear a dress, but it's cooled down considerably in the past few days and I can't realistically justify wearing a sleeveless dress if I am going to be freezing my ass off. I did paint my nails -- all 20 of them and I have cute shoes both open toed and closed, depending on if I have time to shine the darned things.
Mike and I are picking the kids up for an hour to take them out for hamburgers and we'll return them to the babysitter after that. It's not much time, but it's SOME time. Mom and Dad need their kiddy cuddles just like the kids need theirs.
I've been scurrying like a hellbunny all day. I finally realized I needed a break. I sat and ate a sliver of razzleberry pie in the lobby. It seems like a small thing, but when you've sent different version of the same email to 5 people and you're addressing the wrong Jeff in it, you figure you need a break. You know?
The good news, is that if I am this busy, I'm doing my job well.
Tonight, I have to remember to be well mannered for a dinner with one of my husband's company's clients. It's supposed to be something rather nice and ritzy, so we have to dress up. We both had to pack up our suits in the car. I was going to wear a dress, but it's cooled down considerably in the past few days and I can't realistically justify wearing a sleeveless dress if I am going to be freezing my ass off. I did paint my nails -- all 20 of them and I have cute shoes both open toed and closed, depending on if I have time to shine the darned things.
Mike and I are picking the kids up for an hour to take them out for hamburgers and we'll return them to the babysitter after that. It's not much time, but it's SOME time. Mom and Dad need their kiddy cuddles just like the kids need theirs.
Tuesday, August 20, 2002
Stolen off of Stasi's site and she stole it elsewhere, too...
- age I am - 38 years 11 months 22 days
- people i have slept with - more than you -- When I was 20, I had figured it out to be about 300+ Since then, I've slowed down to a glacier level
- age when i lost my virginity - I lost it before I knew what it was -- I had actual sex when I was 17
- times i have been in love - too many
- time i have had my heart broken - many times
- hearts i have broken - many
- months i have been single - I went through a time before I had Russell where I had a lot of sex, but I was still single for about 18 months
- continents i have visited - two
- age when i first flew all alone - 17 Because my dad is a retired Airline pilot...there was no reason to fly without family
- number of boys i have kissed - more than you
- number of girls i have kissed - 10
- number of grades i got at school that were less than A - many
- suicide attempts that actually weren't - 1 -- I went to the hospital for a week
- types of drugs taken illegally - cocaine, shrooms, pot, crystal meth, hashish
- drugs i am addicted to right now - caffeine and internet
- number of people i would classify as true- 3 (husband and Robin and Ken)
- number of people from [high school] that i will stay in contact with - One (Her name is An and we exchange xmas cards is all)
- number of people from my [class] at [high school] that i have snogged - One...a guy that I had the biggest crush on Paul Schofield...I was all over him like Saran Wrap several years after we'd graduated high school
- number of piercings - 4 (2 in each ear), but I let 2 close
- number of tattoos - diabetics don't do dat
- number of times my name has appeared on film credits - zero
- number of times i have feared for my safety whilst walking around London at night - zero
- number of times a girl/boyfriend has made me scared of what s/he could do to me physically - more than I can count...hell I've endured a LOT of therapy for that
- number of things in my past that I regret - 0 -- God gives me lessons to learn...I'm a good student is all
I love me some Orkinman. There is nothing like a insecticide-toting guy killing scorpions and other vermin to grind my gears. Oh, baby.
My husband and I see so little of each other lately. Last night, he came home and mowed the lawn, while I weedwhacked, checked on eating kids and bathed a spaghetti-splattered baby girl. Mike shut off the mower when it was shooting sparks periodically into the very dry vegetation he was trying to mow down.
And things are getting crazy. My husband's grandparents are trying to sell their store. After his grandmother had a heart attack, that was that. Family politics kicked in and Mike's mom and uncle told the grandparents that they were too old to continue on at this Mom and Pop store thing. Uncle got a realtor and put the place on the market and they are currently mid-dicker on an offer. We are all talking about what would happen if they do sell and what the timeline will be and how to make it all work.
Mostly, it involves that I will be going up there on a near weekly basis for the next month or two on weekends to help Grammy clean things out. For the next two weeks, I will probably take the kids up, while Mike works his overtime and get things organized. For example, she's got a dresser up there that she's been trying to get rid of that I could really use. She's also got a china cupboard she's told me I can have, which I'm totally ecstatic for. The only problem I see with said china cabinet is that it is low to the ground. It looks like it's supposed to go on top of a hutch, but, of course, Grammy doesn't have a hutch. Of course, I could be convinced, easily that I require a hutch. I think I could get a plain wood one and stain it and seal it to match.
I think more than anything, I love Mike's grandparents and when they are gone there are these things that would be memories of them. What disturbs me about this giving away of stuff is that Grammy has been touched with her own mortality and that giving away things like this amounts to her acknowledgement of that and her own attempt to prepare for her own death. My grandmother was doing that, too.
She was giving away her house to her grandson and his wife. Cousin Frances asked for a picture and Grams gave it to her. Her house was positively sparse as if she'd already given everything away. And there was what she told me at Grandpa's grave,"I didn't have them engrave it with his death because I hope to be here soon and I didn't want anyone to waste the money."
I still miss my grandfather terribly. I remain heartbroken that I had to leave my grandmother.
My husband and I see so little of each other lately. Last night, he came home and mowed the lawn, while I weedwhacked, checked on eating kids and bathed a spaghetti-splattered baby girl. Mike shut off the mower when it was shooting sparks periodically into the very dry vegetation he was trying to mow down.
And things are getting crazy. My husband's grandparents are trying to sell their store. After his grandmother had a heart attack, that was that. Family politics kicked in and Mike's mom and uncle told the grandparents that they were too old to continue on at this Mom and Pop store thing. Uncle got a realtor and put the place on the market and they are currently mid-dicker on an offer. We are all talking about what would happen if they do sell and what the timeline will be and how to make it all work.
Mostly, it involves that I will be going up there on a near weekly basis for the next month or two on weekends to help Grammy clean things out. For the next two weeks, I will probably take the kids up, while Mike works his overtime and get things organized. For example, she's got a dresser up there that she's been trying to get rid of that I could really use. She's also got a china cupboard she's told me I can have, which I'm totally ecstatic for. The only problem I see with said china cabinet is that it is low to the ground. It looks like it's supposed to go on top of a hutch, but, of course, Grammy doesn't have a hutch. Of course, I could be convinced, easily that I require a hutch. I think I could get a plain wood one and stain it and seal it to match.
I think more than anything, I love Mike's grandparents and when they are gone there are these things that would be memories of them. What disturbs me about this giving away of stuff is that Grammy has been touched with her own mortality and that giving away things like this amounts to her acknowledgement of that and her own attempt to prepare for her own death. My grandmother was doing that, too.
She was giving away her house to her grandson and his wife. Cousin Frances asked for a picture and Grams gave it to her. Her house was positively sparse as if she'd already given everything away. And there was what she told me at Grandpa's grave,"I didn't have them engrave it with his death because I hope to be here soon and I didn't want anyone to waste the money."
I still miss my grandfather terribly. I remain heartbroken that I had to leave my grandmother.
Monday, August 19, 2002
Scorpions are creepy little nasty creatures that make me go mad with horror even if they are behind 6 inches of glass, in a locked cage within a locked trapdoor for educational purposes at the zoo. They're simply the ickiest creatures known to humanity in my opinion and if they were easy to squish without making that crackly crunchy noise that big cockroaches do and having to worry about that stupid curly stinger thingy-mabob, I'd stomp them all to DEATH with big laced up the front steel-toed shitkickers.
When the Orkinman, God Bless Him, came to kill all the black widows, he left a note on the invoice that said he'd found a *shudder* scorpion under our house. Said scorpion was probably eating the fucking black widows, but EWWWWW.
Apparently, the scorpions are having a hard time with all the heat. It's been hovering around 100 degrees here for a week or so and over the weekend, I saw two of them. We have Northern Scorpions whose sting has been equated to a bad bee sting, but I am allergic to bees and I get bad reactions to bug bites. I am scared shitless I'd go into anaphalactic shock if I got stung by one. Mike says I'd probably just have a heart attack. (Shaddup!)
The first one was crawling up the screen on the front window. It was night and we had the porch light on, so Mike thinks he was attracted to the light. I was not attracted to him, however, and I sent my big strong husband to find bug killing chemicals in the garage so we could kill him. We knocked him off the screen, and sprayed the hell out of him with the pyrethrin spray and then covered him with a glass jar, so he'd have to sit on the front porch and die.
My husband in a fit of overzealous scorpio-cide went out the next morning and took the shovel to it, cutting it into tiny pieces which he then tossed into the sagebrush before the Genny-meister got up, got curious, and got hurt. Why he didn't just scrape the thing up and drop it in the trash, I don't know. He's a man. You ask him.
The second one was one of those Kodak moments. I was sitting on the porcelain throne and noticed the bath mat was crooked, so I decided to straighten it out with my toes. As I did so, this little scorpion zipped out and looked at me all pissed off. Mind you the little fuckers can't really see well, but I am SURE it was looking at me and worrying about the size of my feet. My feet of course were now suspended 6 inches in the air and my sudden scream had alerted my husband. "MIIIIKE! COME HERE NOW! SCORPION!"
He came and I instructed him to get a glass to put over it until we could find the pyrethrin stuff. Of course, he doesn't get one of the expendible spaghetti jars with lids. No, dammit, he gets one of the $5 beer steins.
Did my husband put the beer stein over the top of the 1.5 inch scorpion immediately while I sat with my feet in the air, terrified for my life? No, my big wuss of a husband sat on the bed putting his shoes on, as I sat nearly falling into the toilet (except for the fact that I have a big fat ass and that's not possible). Of course, by this time, I'd convinced myself that there was an entire family of scorpions circling under the toilet seat ready to sting my big fat butt, but I was also heavily concerned about the one I *could* see.
Finally, my husband put the beer stein over it and I put my feet down and ran to the bed. Of course, I had shaken the sheets to check for another nest of scorpions and I asked my husband to hand me a pair of socks and to get me a pair of shoes. When he brought me my shoes, I knocked them both to make sure the scorpions they harbored hit the floor where I could squish them!
Then I went to Walmart with every intention of buying the industrial strength scorpion killing stuff of which dreams are made. I studiously read each label to determine which thing would actually kill scorpions and found a stronger version of pyrethrin to use and brought that home along with the stuff you can hook up to your hose.
While I was gone, Mike picked up every bit of clothing on the floor, shook it out, and then hung everything up. Our room has never looked so clean, I tell ya. We both discussed the possible ways the little varmit got into our room and freaked out and shuddered at the possibilities. We shut all the heater ducts, ya know, just in case. We couldn't shut the windows because it was hotter than Hades in our room, so we just left the bathroom window open, which is probably the one the sneaky little thing came in through, though, I can't see how. The only other thing we could figure is that I brought one of Genny's dolls out of a box in the garage and we wondered if it had been stuck in the doll's clothing or something and then scurried and hid in the bathroom. That thought totally sent me over the edge.
To kill Scorpion #2, I took a piece of construction paper and put it under the beer stein and its captive. Then I sprayed a big bunch of spray on one half of the paper and just used the beer stein to move the critter onto the affected paper, where it twitched and took its sweet time dying. After it stopped responding the the stein moving, we dropped it into a bottle and sprayed it again and capped the bottle and tossed it in the trash.
I called the Orkinman at 8AM and told them I needed them yesterday. They made me pay my bill (early dammit) and will be coming out tomorrow.
Today, I will be going home, mowing my lawn and then spraying a perimeter defense to keep those little curly tailed vermin out of my house until the Orkinman can kill the little mofos dead dead DEAD!
When the Orkinman, God Bless Him, came to kill all the black widows, he left a note on the invoice that said he'd found a *shudder* scorpion under our house. Said scorpion was probably eating the fucking black widows, but EWWWWW.
Apparently, the scorpions are having a hard time with all the heat. It's been hovering around 100 degrees here for a week or so and over the weekend, I saw two of them. We have Northern Scorpions whose sting has been equated to a bad bee sting, but I am allergic to bees and I get bad reactions to bug bites. I am scared shitless I'd go into anaphalactic shock if I got stung by one. Mike says I'd probably just have a heart attack. (Shaddup!)
The first one was crawling up the screen on the front window. It was night and we had the porch light on, so Mike thinks he was attracted to the light. I was not attracted to him, however, and I sent my big strong husband to find bug killing chemicals in the garage so we could kill him. We knocked him off the screen, and sprayed the hell out of him with the pyrethrin spray and then covered him with a glass jar, so he'd have to sit on the front porch and die.
My husband in a fit of overzealous scorpio-cide went out the next morning and took the shovel to it, cutting it into tiny pieces which he then tossed into the sagebrush before the Genny-meister got up, got curious, and got hurt. Why he didn't just scrape the thing up and drop it in the trash, I don't know. He's a man. You ask him.
The second one was one of those Kodak moments. I was sitting on the porcelain throne and noticed the bath mat was crooked, so I decided to straighten it out with my toes. As I did so, this little scorpion zipped out and looked at me all pissed off. Mind you the little fuckers can't really see well, but I am SURE it was looking at me and worrying about the size of my feet. My feet of course were now suspended 6 inches in the air and my sudden scream had alerted my husband. "MIIIIKE! COME HERE NOW! SCORPION!"
He came and I instructed him to get a glass to put over it until we could find the pyrethrin stuff. Of course, he doesn't get one of the expendible spaghetti jars with lids. No, dammit, he gets one of the $5 beer steins.
Did my husband put the beer stein over the top of the 1.5 inch scorpion immediately while I sat with my feet in the air, terrified for my life? No, my big wuss of a husband sat on the bed putting his shoes on, as I sat nearly falling into the toilet (except for the fact that I have a big fat ass and that's not possible). Of course, by this time, I'd convinced myself that there was an entire family of scorpions circling under the toilet seat ready to sting my big fat butt, but I was also heavily concerned about the one I *could* see.
Finally, my husband put the beer stein over it and I put my feet down and ran to the bed. Of course, I had shaken the sheets to check for another nest of scorpions and I asked my husband to hand me a pair of socks and to get me a pair of shoes. When he brought me my shoes, I knocked them both to make sure the scorpions they harbored hit the floor where I could squish them!
Then I went to Walmart with every intention of buying the industrial strength scorpion killing stuff of which dreams are made. I studiously read each label to determine which thing would actually kill scorpions and found a stronger version of pyrethrin to use and brought that home along with the stuff you can hook up to your hose.
While I was gone, Mike picked up every bit of clothing on the floor, shook it out, and then hung everything up. Our room has never looked so clean, I tell ya. We both discussed the possible ways the little varmit got into our room and freaked out and shuddered at the possibilities. We shut all the heater ducts, ya know, just in case. We couldn't shut the windows because it was hotter than Hades in our room, so we just left the bathroom window open, which is probably the one the sneaky little thing came in through, though, I can't see how. The only other thing we could figure is that I brought one of Genny's dolls out of a box in the garage and we wondered if it had been stuck in the doll's clothing or something and then scurried and hid in the bathroom. That thought totally sent me over the edge.
To kill Scorpion #2, I took a piece of construction paper and put it under the beer stein and its captive. Then I sprayed a big bunch of spray on one half of the paper and just used the beer stein to move the critter onto the affected paper, where it twitched and took its sweet time dying. After it stopped responding the the stein moving, we dropped it into a bottle and sprayed it again and capped the bottle and tossed it in the trash.
I called the Orkinman at 8AM and told them I needed them yesterday. They made me pay my bill (early dammit) and will be coming out tomorrow.
Today, I will be going home, mowing my lawn and then spraying a perimeter defense to keep those little curly tailed vermin out of my house until the Orkinman can kill the little mofos dead dead DEAD!
Friday, August 16, 2002
And here are my "get out of my way, I'm driving" bitches
To Whom It May Concern:
Dammit, Granny. I'd just like to say that while yes, that's a rare shade of green worthy of admiration, it's also a green light, grandma. Please start driving 15 mph, so I have a chance of getting my errands done before I get as old as you are.
And Mr. Didn'tBotherToEvenFucking Look? Please feel free to at least GLANCE before you cross three lanes of traffic to nearly crash into the side of my brand new car. Yes, and wipe that suprised look off your face because I flipped you off. You damned well deserved it! With six lanes of traffic, I don't see any need to share one lane with you. That's not what the "merge" sign meant! Jimmy Cliff didn't mean *that* in "We all are one."
Dear Asshole who wants to drive five miles below the speed limit in the fast lane, Please note that on a 4 lane highway, that the two lanes on our side of the road are referred to as the fast lane and the slow lane. Thus, when you are driving 5-10 miles below the speed limit, it is considered the act of a courteous driver to signal, look for other drivers and move your big ass Winnebago over. Additionally, speeding up when people try to pass you on the right because they've given up on you being courteous enough to move to the slow lane is also rude. Please don't be surprised when I involuntarily thrust my middle finger in the air as I pass your gas hog vehicle of death.
Dear Maggot in a souped-up 80's vehicle, I have a truck and that much mass takes a half second for its get up and go to get up and go. Please be patient and try not to run me off the road. I have two small children that I'd like to see grow up. Honestly, I'd like to see you grow up, too. And get a new car...that look is well...so 80's!
Dear Little Kid on a Bike at the bottom of a curved blind hill, Please ask your parents to watch you better. I wasn't driving too fast, so I was able to stop and move so that other car that didn't see you til the last gasp got by. I know a lot of people around here do drive fast, and next time you might not be so lucky. Please be careful, honey.
Dear Oregon Driver, Please go back to Oregon. You can't drive there either, but at least we can avoid visiting your state and having to deal with you.
Dear Crazy Boston Limo Driver, Thanks for not killing us or hitting any other vehicle. My husband should have been wearing depends for all those near misses, but he changed his underwear at the airport, so it's all good.
Sincerely,
Ruby
To Whom It May Concern:
Dammit, Granny. I'd just like to say that while yes, that's a rare shade of green worthy of admiration, it's also a green light, grandma. Please start driving 15 mph, so I have a chance of getting my errands done before I get as old as you are.
And Mr. Didn'tBotherToEvenFucking Look? Please feel free to at least GLANCE before you cross three lanes of traffic to nearly crash into the side of my brand new car. Yes, and wipe that suprised look off your face because I flipped you off. You damned well deserved it! With six lanes of traffic, I don't see any need to share one lane with you. That's not what the "merge" sign meant! Jimmy Cliff didn't mean *that* in "We all are one."
Dear Asshole who wants to drive five miles below the speed limit in the fast lane, Please note that on a 4 lane highway, that the two lanes on our side of the road are referred to as the fast lane and the slow lane. Thus, when you are driving 5-10 miles below the speed limit, it is considered the act of a courteous driver to signal, look for other drivers and move your big ass Winnebago over. Additionally, speeding up when people try to pass you on the right because they've given up on you being courteous enough to move to the slow lane is also rude. Please don't be surprised when I involuntarily thrust my middle finger in the air as I pass your gas hog vehicle of death.
Dear Maggot in a souped-up 80's vehicle, I have a truck and that much mass takes a half second for its get up and go to get up and go. Please be patient and try not to run me off the road. I have two small children that I'd like to see grow up. Honestly, I'd like to see you grow up, too. And get a new car...that look is well...so 80's!
Dear Little Kid on a Bike at the bottom of a curved blind hill, Please ask your parents to watch you better. I wasn't driving too fast, so I was able to stop and move so that other car that didn't see you til the last gasp got by. I know a lot of people around here do drive fast, and next time you might not be so lucky. Please be careful, honey.
Dear Oregon Driver, Please go back to Oregon. You can't drive there either, but at least we can avoid visiting your state and having to deal with you.
Dear Crazy Boston Limo Driver, Thanks for not killing us or hitting any other vehicle. My husband should have been wearing depends for all those near misses, but he changed his underwear at the airport, so it's all good.
Sincerely,
Ruby
I am so fucking tired that "walking dead" barely covers how I feel. I'm tired to my soul. I slept in this morning until 7AM because the prospect of seeing my kids was so enticing that I simply couldn't help it. I usually am at work by 7 and this morning I strolled in at 815.
I couldn't sleep because I was worrying about the proposals Mike and I put in for a contract job of upkeep on a website that we created over a year ago. I hope it's enough information for them. I hope we get the jobs; Lord knows we need the money. And I'm worrying about this stupid job.
Of course, today everything's blown up...several times. It's bloody depressing.
I feel like what I want is a big shiny icy alcoholic drink with fruit in it in my hand at the end of the day -- daiquiri would be fine. Extra rum, please. Fucking sober company picnics...whose brilliant idea was that? Hrrmph.
If my kids weren't here I'd be drinking. Thank goodness for children.
I couldn't sleep because I was worrying about the proposals Mike and I put in for a contract job of upkeep on a website that we created over a year ago. I hope it's enough information for them. I hope we get the jobs; Lord knows we need the money. And I'm worrying about this stupid job.
Of course, today everything's blown up...several times. It's bloody depressing.
I feel like what I want is a big shiny icy alcoholic drink with fruit in it in my hand at the end of the day -- daiquiri would be fine. Extra rum, please. Fucking sober company picnics...whose brilliant idea was that? Hrrmph.
If my kids weren't here I'd be drinking. Thank goodness for children.
Thursday, August 15, 2002
My boss went home today and he not only has to close on his house, and then set it up to rent out, but he also has to break up with his girlfriend. He's got an action packed and unenviable weekend. After three and a half months though, I'm finally getting some kind of guidance as to what is expected from me. For me, I feel like a junkie driving to the corner to buy a fix. I'm giddy with expectation that this might work out and scared it might not. They've reorganized things again...in a good way and I'm hoping that it means that I'll actually get to learn stuff and be useful and make a difference.
I sound like Werner Erhard. So, like talk about things you did in the 80's...I took est and I took several seminars associated with it and even personally corresponded with Erhard a few times. It's odd that it's so looked down on, now. I realized at the time that people looked at you cockeyed if you admitted you took est and even more so, if you were so foolhardy to admit you liked it. Honestly, though, I loved it.
After years of being completely suicidal, I felt like I had located a sense of self-recognition, which I never had had before. I find that in my day-to-day life, that I solve problems remembering some of the things I learned in est. I find that if I am pissed off about something, I go find who I'm pissed off with and talk to them about it. And I'm not perfect about that, either, but it gave me a place to start. I'd never had a place to start and that was pretty cool. I think that my work with est made me realize that I can start with me, which seems kind of basic and generic, but when you get involved in your busy life, it's hard to remember to function in that capacity.
Anyway, work still sucks, but things are looking up.
I sound like Werner Erhard. So, like talk about things you did in the 80's...I took est and I took several seminars associated with it and even personally corresponded with Erhard a few times. It's odd that it's so looked down on, now. I realized at the time that people looked at you cockeyed if you admitted you took est and even more so, if you were so foolhardy to admit you liked it. Honestly, though, I loved it.
After years of being completely suicidal, I felt like I had located a sense of self-recognition, which I never had had before. I find that in my day-to-day life, that I solve problems remembering some of the things I learned in est. I find that if I am pissed off about something, I go find who I'm pissed off with and talk to them about it. And I'm not perfect about that, either, but it gave me a place to start. I'd never had a place to start and that was pretty cool. I think that my work with est made me realize that I can start with me, which seems kind of basic and generic, but when you get involved in your busy life, it's hard to remember to function in that capacity.
Anyway, work still sucks, but things are looking up.
Wednesday, August 14, 2002
I think there's something really naughty feeling -- you know sexy-naughty about finding really nice clothes on a sale rack. If I were a guy, markdowns would give me wood. I tell ya. I'm wearing this beautiful dress I found at Sears last night for $12.49. It's one of those kinds of dresses that really look good on me, but would probably not be so hot on anyone else, thus the reason it was on the markdown rack.
It's got a rust brown background with a tropical print and the colors are all mine...greens, golds and browns. I'm dressing up today because the big boss from Atlanta will be here. We've got one of those,"Everything is going to change" meetings. Everyone is completely freaked. I'm afraid that they're just going to offer us all jobs in Atlanta, so they don't have to pay us unemployment. *sigh*
I didn't sleep much last night as a result. This morning, I'm eating balance bars, diet pepsi twist, and that's it. I want to be alert and not all sugared up for everything.
Ready to get squicky? Last night, I was moving the hose sprinkler all over the front lawn and I got near this weird block edging fence that one of the previous tenants left. It's just wood blocks and they always fall down...and one of the damned things was down. It was dark and I couldn't see and I caught part of this 4X4 block against the top inside of my ankle. Where it hit, I now have a big ugly bruise and two cuts where the skin kind of rolled up and stayed there. Hurt like hell. Still does.
I just hope I have time to actually find a reasonable job before I get offered something hideous in Atlanta.
It's got a rust brown background with a tropical print and the colors are all mine...greens, golds and browns. I'm dressing up today because the big boss from Atlanta will be here. We've got one of those,"Everything is going to change" meetings. Everyone is completely freaked. I'm afraid that they're just going to offer us all jobs in Atlanta, so they don't have to pay us unemployment. *sigh*
I didn't sleep much last night as a result. This morning, I'm eating balance bars, diet pepsi twist, and that's it. I want to be alert and not all sugared up for everything.
Ready to get squicky? Last night, I was moving the hose sprinkler all over the front lawn and I got near this weird block edging fence that one of the previous tenants left. It's just wood blocks and they always fall down...and one of the damned things was down. It was dark and I couldn't see and I caught part of this 4X4 block against the top inside of my ankle. Where it hit, I now have a big ugly bruise and two cuts where the skin kind of rolled up and stayed there. Hurt like hell. Still does.
I just hope I have time to actually find a reasonable job before I get offered something hideous in Atlanta.
Tuesday, August 13, 2002
Last night, my husband said,"Hey, wanna watch a meteor shower?" We shut off all the house lights and sat out front for a while craning our necks and decided that the neighbor across the street with the big bright spotlight was a nuisance and headed out back. We'd only seen one each out front, but going out back with the reduced light and better view, we saw probably close to 15-20 in an hour.
As we were sitting out there holding hands and pointing to the sky, Mike said,"Well, now we know why TV was invented. This is slow." I felt impatient, too. I moved my chair out a little bit from the house to expand my sky and got a huge one streaking across the sky right directly over our heads. I tried to point it out to Mike and as I pointed this enormous streak that seemed to start at the horizon and poof out of site overhead blazed on past.
I went swimming this morning and between shooting stars and exercise, I feel so much better today. Yesterday, a co-worker looked at me and said, "I don't know what's wrong, but anyone can see that you are very upset." I don't think I could begin to fully articulate all the "wrong" I was feeling, but she was right. I miss my kids. A lot. Genny's getting so big, and so is Russell and they're both such awesome kids. Genny's such an armful...she's so TWO. I looked at Russell yesterday and I swear I saw him grow. I told him he looked different to me, like he'd grown. He's been working so hard in the past week to eat, he glowed when I told him and got so excited. I told him I'd been afraid to buy him school clothes because he didn't really need them right now and had been buying decent jeans online for him. I said that I really hoped that I get to buy him some new jeans soon. I already bought him a few new shirts, but shirts can hang off them a little.
Russell and I were talking about him going out for football. He said he didn't think he'd like to get tackled. I told him that you have to wear a lot of pads and that that makes it easier. I also said as small and fast as he is, that he'd make a good quarterback, who is someone who doesn't get tackled much, but that he'd had to learn to throw the ball. We talked some more and we're going to find a football or buy one and I promised to start playing catch with him. My dad did that with me and I have fond memories of that. My mom swears up and down that my dad wasn't there much, but I have a lot of memories of when he was there. I hope Russell has the same.
Genny was really sweet last night. She really likes to help. It's kind of a bitch that she does that sometimes because she'll try to help you with something and foul it mercilessly, but if you can channel her, it's a wonderful thing. Last night, she found a sponge outside left from cleaning the car and she was wiping down tables and chairs outside. At first, Russell was scolding her against it, but I told him she's not hurting anything, let her wipe. Then they wiped down the kitchen table together and Russell was showing her "his" technique. It was really cute as all get out.
Last night, because I was getting home so late, I just made dinner...at Taco bell. 5 tacos, a bean buritto and ain't we got fun! Russell always freaks about his food being just so. He loathes sauce of any kind on his tacos, so when they asked, "Hot or Mild?" Russell was losing it in the back seat because he thought they were going to put sauce on his taco. I was trying to order over him losing it in the back seat. I told him that it's just packets of sauce and that I knew he didn't like sauce. (Trust me, after just one "losing it" episode in the backseat, you'd never forget.) Russell got stuck in this thing about his latest food hatred: blueberry pancakes. I don't know what kind of lunatic hates blueberry pancakes, yet loves blueberry muffins, but he used to scarf them down and now, he'd just rather eat cereal. I told him he'd have to eat them and just be quiet about it, if they got made because everyone else loves them and he's just one person. He got miffed that we wouldn't change our culinary habits for him, but as a diabetic, berries I can eat LOTS of, so I do.
I told him that I thought he was feeding me a lot of Hooey, but he assured me that he's always hated blueberry pancakes. Oddly enough, he's not only eaten them before, but he's had seconds. I finally said that I was in no condition to give a rat's pitooty about his newly announced hatred of blueberry pancakes and that we were eating tacos for dinner anyhow. Then we got to talking about the things I appreciate most about him, which I told him was how much he'd been helping his Dad and I out with housework. We went home and he cleared the table and watered the plants, while I did 3 days of dishes, my husband had been ignoring.
My husband rectified that with starwatching though.
As we were sitting out there holding hands and pointing to the sky, Mike said,"Well, now we know why TV was invented. This is slow." I felt impatient, too. I moved my chair out a little bit from the house to expand my sky and got a huge one streaking across the sky right directly over our heads. I tried to point it out to Mike and as I pointed this enormous streak that seemed to start at the horizon and poof out of site overhead blazed on past.
I went swimming this morning and between shooting stars and exercise, I feel so much better today. Yesterday, a co-worker looked at me and said, "I don't know what's wrong, but anyone can see that you are very upset." I don't think I could begin to fully articulate all the "wrong" I was feeling, but she was right. I miss my kids. A lot. Genny's getting so big, and so is Russell and they're both such awesome kids. Genny's such an armful...she's so TWO. I looked at Russell yesterday and I swear I saw him grow. I told him he looked different to me, like he'd grown. He's been working so hard in the past week to eat, he glowed when I told him and got so excited. I told him I'd been afraid to buy him school clothes because he didn't really need them right now and had been buying decent jeans online for him. I said that I really hoped that I get to buy him some new jeans soon. I already bought him a few new shirts, but shirts can hang off them a little.
Russell and I were talking about him going out for football. He said he didn't think he'd like to get tackled. I told him that you have to wear a lot of pads and that that makes it easier. I also said as small and fast as he is, that he'd make a good quarterback, who is someone who doesn't get tackled much, but that he'd had to learn to throw the ball. We talked some more and we're going to find a football or buy one and I promised to start playing catch with him. My dad did that with me and I have fond memories of that. My mom swears up and down that my dad wasn't there much, but I have a lot of memories of when he was there. I hope Russell has the same.
Genny was really sweet last night. She really likes to help. It's kind of a bitch that she does that sometimes because she'll try to help you with something and foul it mercilessly, but if you can channel her, it's a wonderful thing. Last night, she found a sponge outside left from cleaning the car and she was wiping down tables and chairs outside. At first, Russell was scolding her against it, but I told him she's not hurting anything, let her wipe. Then they wiped down the kitchen table together and Russell was showing her "his" technique. It was really cute as all get out.
Last night, because I was getting home so late, I just made dinner...at Taco bell. 5 tacos, a bean buritto and ain't we got fun! Russell always freaks about his food being just so. He loathes sauce of any kind on his tacos, so when they asked, "Hot or Mild?" Russell was losing it in the back seat because he thought they were going to put sauce on his taco. I was trying to order over him losing it in the back seat. I told him that it's just packets of sauce and that I knew he didn't like sauce. (Trust me, after just one "losing it" episode in the backseat, you'd never forget.) Russell got stuck in this thing about his latest food hatred: blueberry pancakes. I don't know what kind of lunatic hates blueberry pancakes, yet loves blueberry muffins, but he used to scarf them down and now, he'd just rather eat cereal. I told him he'd have to eat them and just be quiet about it, if they got made because everyone else loves them and he's just one person. He got miffed that we wouldn't change our culinary habits for him, but as a diabetic, berries I can eat LOTS of, so I do.
I told him that I thought he was feeding me a lot of Hooey, but he assured me that he's always hated blueberry pancakes. Oddly enough, he's not only eaten them before, but he's had seconds. I finally said that I was in no condition to give a rat's pitooty about his newly announced hatred of blueberry pancakes and that we were eating tacos for dinner anyhow. Then we got to talking about the things I appreciate most about him, which I told him was how much he'd been helping his Dad and I out with housework. We went home and he cleared the table and watered the plants, while I did 3 days of dishes, my husband had been ignoring.
My husband rectified that with starwatching though.
Monday, August 12, 2002
Well, this weekend I had all kinds of hopes of getting all kinds of things done, but it didn't happen due to the infamous "lost afternoon" syndrome.
On Saturday, we had a garage sale. It was supposed to go from 8-12, but we'd promised the Russell and the neighbor boy we'd let them sell lemonade to make a few dollars. The neighbor boy was already there selling his toys, so it wasn't a big deal, we thought. We sent our neighbor out to get said lemonade at about 930. At about 230 or so she returned. *sigh* At which point, the boys went out of their skins with joy at the prospect of selling prolific glasses of lemonade. (They made $2.50 a piece -- pay dirt for boys!)
Unfortunately, we only have the one picture window and that meant we had to keep an eye on the kids and the garage sale stuff all day. It was upwards of 100 degrees, so it was hotter than Hades (not that I personally know this, mind you...) and I wasn't about to slave over the hot stove nor deal with the dryer going. And there was that thing of being up at 630AM to get everything ready.
In order to watch the kids and sale, we watched the Ninth Gate on TV from netflix, but it was hard to stay interested. For one thing, the movie dragged like an improperly fit artificial limb. And honestly, it seemed like any minute we'd get to figure out what was so damned important about the freaking engravings and how the apparent mimicry was important but that never was revealed. At 5PM, I took the kids off the lemonade stand and made my husband take me out to dinner on our $95 in sales. We may still yet sell that stupid electronic piano, but we didn't actually expect to sell it at the garage sale. I think we're looking at putting an ad in the paper everyone refers to as "The Nickel." You know you've sunk to white trash-hood when you're putting ads in something called,"The Nickel." I tell ya.
Sunday I cleaned the kitchen, did the dishes that had piled up and did about 6 loads of laundry. I am unsure of what my husband did, but I know it wasn't much. He did the floor in the kitchen once. Doing anything to clean our kitchen floor is pretty much a losing proposition because if the kids play in the back yard, they track mud like hell. I am at the point, to where I'd consider putting in a deck in the back to keep the mud to a dull scream. Doing that however, would be kind of like sending an engraved invitation to a variety of crawly critters like scorpions, black widows, and small mammals. I am getting desperate though. So much sand and dirt, so little time.
Russell starts school on August 26. I can't wait. He's bitching about being bored. I'm about ready to throttle him. I've spent so much money and time working to get him fun stuff to do. I play games with him, we work together, play together. It *must* be time for school to start. I remember if I started whining about being bored, I got more yardwork to do than I could stand. I've been refraining from doing that, but have said, I wouldn't mind if he spent the time pulling some weeds up for me and have thanked him blind for yanking one or two.
He needs his friends, his schoolwork, and other things to do. He was ecstatic about getting clam and snail shells from the lake the other day, but now he's bored. *sigh* We went out yesterday for lunch to have a change of scene. I'm looking forward to next weekend when we'll have a birthday party, a visit to Grammy's and the swimming at the "Pond" and picnics. Lots and lots of picnics -- company picnic on Friday and a town picnic to fund the firefighters on Saturday. It'll be non-stop kid action. At which point, the parents will slide the kids into bed and fall asleep in a chair. Between the long hours at work and the long "boring" weekends, I'm sooo very tired.
On Saturday, we had a garage sale. It was supposed to go from 8-12, but we'd promised the Russell and the neighbor boy we'd let them sell lemonade to make a few dollars. The neighbor boy was already there selling his toys, so it wasn't a big deal, we thought. We sent our neighbor out to get said lemonade at about 930. At about 230 or so she returned. *sigh* At which point, the boys went out of their skins with joy at the prospect of selling prolific glasses of lemonade. (They made $2.50 a piece -- pay dirt for boys!)
Unfortunately, we only have the one picture window and that meant we had to keep an eye on the kids and the garage sale stuff all day. It was upwards of 100 degrees, so it was hotter than Hades (not that I personally know this, mind you...) and I wasn't about to slave over the hot stove nor deal with the dryer going. And there was that thing of being up at 630AM to get everything ready.
In order to watch the kids and sale, we watched the Ninth Gate on TV from netflix, but it was hard to stay interested. For one thing, the movie dragged like an improperly fit artificial limb. And honestly, it seemed like any minute we'd get to figure out what was so damned important about the freaking engravings and how the apparent mimicry was important but that never was revealed. At 5PM, I took the kids off the lemonade stand and made my husband take me out to dinner on our $95 in sales. We may still yet sell that stupid electronic piano, but we didn't actually expect to sell it at the garage sale. I think we're looking at putting an ad in the paper everyone refers to as "The Nickel." You know you've sunk to white trash-hood when you're putting ads in something called,"The Nickel." I tell ya.
Sunday I cleaned the kitchen, did the dishes that had piled up and did about 6 loads of laundry. I am unsure of what my husband did, but I know it wasn't much. He did the floor in the kitchen once. Doing anything to clean our kitchen floor is pretty much a losing proposition because if the kids play in the back yard, they track mud like hell. I am at the point, to where I'd consider putting in a deck in the back to keep the mud to a dull scream. Doing that however, would be kind of like sending an engraved invitation to a variety of crawly critters like scorpions, black widows, and small mammals. I am getting desperate though. So much sand and dirt, so little time.
Russell starts school on August 26. I can't wait. He's bitching about being bored. I'm about ready to throttle him. I've spent so much money and time working to get him fun stuff to do. I play games with him, we work together, play together. It *must* be time for school to start. I remember if I started whining about being bored, I got more yardwork to do than I could stand. I've been refraining from doing that, but have said, I wouldn't mind if he spent the time pulling some weeds up for me and have thanked him blind for yanking one or two.
He needs his friends, his schoolwork, and other things to do. He was ecstatic about getting clam and snail shells from the lake the other day, but now he's bored. *sigh* We went out yesterday for lunch to have a change of scene. I'm looking forward to next weekend when we'll have a birthday party, a visit to Grammy's and the swimming at the "Pond" and picnics. Lots and lots of picnics -- company picnic on Friday and a town picnic to fund the firefighters on Saturday. It'll be non-stop kid action. At which point, the parents will slide the kids into bed and fall asleep in a chair. Between the long hours at work and the long "boring" weekends, I'm sooo very tired.
Friday, August 09, 2002
Dear Michael,
You are about the sweetest husband in the whole wide world. I can't believe you were willing to drive across town and bring me my work computer that I forgot all for a slice of pizza, some salad, and a brief smooch. You really do love me a lot, don't you?
Thank you for making me believe.
Love,
Wendy
You are about the sweetest husband in the whole wide world. I can't believe you were willing to drive across town and bring me my work computer that I forgot all for a slice of pizza, some salad, and a brief smooch. You really do love me a lot, don't you?
Thank you for making me believe.
Love,
Wendy
I've had challenges with my daycare person from the get-go, mostly through her mother. Her mother tried to have her tell me that she was going to charge $5/hour at the beginning of the summer. I said that that would equate to nearly all my paycheck and that I could take Russell to a Christian daycare in town, if she needed to make money because they were only charging about $90/week and they were licensed. She said it was because she was coming into my home and stuff, but I had also said that I'd expected that she could have fun and I"d do my best to pay for it, including water park tickets, etc. I said if she didn't want to do the job, that I would take him to the Christian daycare place in town and call it good.
She assured me that no, she wanted the job.
Well, yesterday at 6pm, she informed me that today was to be her last day. Mind you, she only has two more weeks and both Mike and I are working horrible long hours and need the help. And then she told me it was for "personal" reasons. I said,"With only one day's notice, I'd hope you'd give me more information." Somewhere it came out that her mom was making her do this. I asked if her mom understood that I was getting one day's notice to find alternative care for my children? She said she didn't know and cried.
I tried to negotiate with her and she said she couldn't negotiate due to her mom. Mysterious Mom. Backtracking though, she told me on Monday that she'd expected more money and I tried to find out an exact amount and she didn't give me one. I asked her how much more and she kept avoiding it. I finally asked if $20 more was enough or if she needed more or what and she said that that was fine and I said okay and moved on. Apparently, Mysterious Mom didn't think I was paying her enough. I can't get out of anyone how much was expected. I'd have worked with her if she'd given me an amount, but she didn't. The only amount we'd ever heard from mom was $5/hour, which I'd already said I can't afford -- MONTHS ago.
I feel furious.
However, I talked to my neighbor and she's taking Russell and will pick up Genny for me for the next two weeks. I can meet her at a park M-Th that's only a few blocks from my job because she takes her son to football league. I can pick up the kids any time, so it'll work out timewise. The really cool thing is that I know there won't be any hassle associated with this. Russell will be able to play with a friend. Genny will play at the park with her brother. Mike and I can work as long as I need to, during this crunch time at both of our jobs. Essentially, this works out better. Sylvia will be glad for the money and we'll make our bosses happy.
Speaking of bosses, my boss came in here looking terrific and then last night, we were talking and he looked beat down. This is however, the same guy who hasn't bought himself groceries yet. I keep thinking,"You can't take care of others if you don't take care of yourself." I'm glad I exercised yesterday. I'm glad I'm taking a vitamin. I wish he would. He was giving me some hope there for a while.
I sent my resume out last night to a couple of jobs I found on the web.
Friday Five
She assured me that no, she wanted the job.
Well, yesterday at 6pm, she informed me that today was to be her last day. Mind you, she only has two more weeks and both Mike and I are working horrible long hours and need the help. And then she told me it was for "personal" reasons. I said,"With only one day's notice, I'd hope you'd give me more information." Somewhere it came out that her mom was making her do this. I asked if her mom understood that I was getting one day's notice to find alternative care for my children? She said she didn't know and cried.
I tried to negotiate with her and she said she couldn't negotiate due to her mom. Mysterious Mom. Backtracking though, she told me on Monday that she'd expected more money and I tried to find out an exact amount and she didn't give me one. I asked her how much more and she kept avoiding it. I finally asked if $20 more was enough or if she needed more or what and she said that that was fine and I said okay and moved on. Apparently, Mysterious Mom didn't think I was paying her enough. I can't get out of anyone how much was expected. I'd have worked with her if she'd given me an amount, but she didn't. The only amount we'd ever heard from mom was $5/hour, which I'd already said I can't afford -- MONTHS ago.
I feel furious.
However, I talked to my neighbor and she's taking Russell and will pick up Genny for me for the next two weeks. I can meet her at a park M-Th that's only a few blocks from my job because she takes her son to football league. I can pick up the kids any time, so it'll work out timewise. The really cool thing is that I know there won't be any hassle associated with this. Russell will be able to play with a friend. Genny will play at the park with her brother. Mike and I can work as long as I need to, during this crunch time at both of our jobs. Essentially, this works out better. Sylvia will be glad for the money and we'll make our bosses happy.
Speaking of bosses, my boss came in here looking terrific and then last night, we were talking and he looked beat down. This is however, the same guy who hasn't bought himself groceries yet. I keep thinking,"You can't take care of others if you don't take care of yourself." I'm glad I exercised yesterday. I'm glad I'm taking a vitamin. I wish he would. He was giving me some hope there for a while.
I sent my resume out last night to a couple of jobs I found on the web.
Friday Five
- Do you have a car? If so, what kind of car is it? We have a green '97 Saturn SL2 and a white '02 Chevy Tracker.
- Do you drive very often? All the time. I do the majority of the family driving because I am the better driver. My husband is afraid to drive in urban places. Hell, you'd be afraid of him driving, too.
- What's your dream car? If I could drive any car I wanted, I'd have one of those cute little MGB's from the 60's. *drool*
<.li>Have you ever received a ticket? Several.
- Have you ever been in an accident? Three serious ones. I had that woman hit and run us when I was pregnant with Genny. When I was about 21, I sideswiped a guy because the car in front of me stopped dead in the road for no apparent reason. I was in a rental, so I had to pay a small deductible and it wasn't my problem after that. And there was the deer that my husband bounced off Levy Hacker the Chevy Tracker on Memorial Day Weekend.
Thursday, August 08, 2002
Well, I've been gaining weight lately. I'll grant you I've managed to do something at least once or twice a week -- walking, swimming, but it's not enough. I have to go more. Working long horrible hours, makes my desire to exercise very very dim due to the fact that I have more of a desire to sleep. But last night, I not only got sleep, but I also walked. This morning, I got up before work and hit the pool.
Despite the muscle soreness, I feel like a Goddess. I am woman, hear me splash!
The cat ate another bird yesterday, too...it was still chirping when he brought it in. I mentioned it on a chat board and got lambasted for "inflicting" my predator upon the world. I feel otherwise. Some dipshit (an irresponsible guy who ditches his kid on the neighbors at will) inflicted his hutch bunnies on us because we have these feral bunnies bouncing all over the place. My cat kills birds, which he'd do that regardless of our neighborhood, but more specifically, he also kills bunnies. But he also marks his territory and I haven't seen one of those rabbits in my fenced-in backyard and garden since we moved in. I saw that something had nibbled on my evening primrose, but it is right by the gate, so I think some bunny stuck it's head it, got a couple nibbles and got out. I think it's a bummer that Cowboy kills birds, but he kills a lot less birds than he does bunnies and killing bunnies when they are so prolific is a good thing in this area of the world.
I have done a lot to discourage the bunnies. I put up fence, used bloodmeal in the soil preparation, planted with marigolds, and yes, I've put my kitty out. And I actually have a garden I can eat from. When it's between me and the birds and rabbits in my garden, I'd rather it be me. I freeze, can, and use all the food I produce in my yard, and I am composting everything else to be used again next year. Producing food for my family is important and while it is a small garden, it is a garden. I've got a lot of crops coming up that I'll be able to use later.
I guess despite all that, I am sad for the robin Cowboy killed yesterday, but being that he doesn't differentiate between birds and bunnies and I'm glad he's killing rabbits, I'll get over it. I do think though that the suggestion of a bell on him is a good idea. The rabbits have a good fear of the back yard now and that should get us through the growing season.
And despite my beliefs, apparently Cowboy did not kill the catbird on the ground in front of the garage. It had a broken neck, no blood, and had retained it's head, which means the wind gusts we were having the other day probably bounced it off the garage.
Criminy, between the wind and the cat...we'll bring down that songbird population. Yeesh!
Despite the muscle soreness, I feel like a Goddess. I am woman, hear me splash!
The cat ate another bird yesterday, too...it was still chirping when he brought it in. I mentioned it on a chat board and got lambasted for "inflicting" my predator upon the world. I feel otherwise. Some dipshit (an irresponsible guy who ditches his kid on the neighbors at will) inflicted his hutch bunnies on us because we have these feral bunnies bouncing all over the place. My cat kills birds, which he'd do that regardless of our neighborhood, but more specifically, he also kills bunnies. But he also marks his territory and I haven't seen one of those rabbits in my fenced-in backyard and garden since we moved in. I saw that something had nibbled on my evening primrose, but it is right by the gate, so I think some bunny stuck it's head it, got a couple nibbles and got out. I think it's a bummer that Cowboy kills birds, but he kills a lot less birds than he does bunnies and killing bunnies when they are so prolific is a good thing in this area of the world.
I have done a lot to discourage the bunnies. I put up fence, used bloodmeal in the soil preparation, planted with marigolds, and yes, I've put my kitty out. And I actually have a garden I can eat from. When it's between me and the birds and rabbits in my garden, I'd rather it be me. I freeze, can, and use all the food I produce in my yard, and I am composting everything else to be used again next year. Producing food for my family is important and while it is a small garden, it is a garden. I've got a lot of crops coming up that I'll be able to use later.
I guess despite all that, I am sad for the robin Cowboy killed yesterday, but being that he doesn't differentiate between birds and bunnies and I'm glad he's killing rabbits, I'll get over it. I do think though that the suggestion of a bell on him is a good idea. The rabbits have a good fear of the back yard now and that should get us through the growing season.
And despite my beliefs, apparently Cowboy did not kill the catbird on the ground in front of the garage. It had a broken neck, no blood, and had retained it's head, which means the wind gusts we were having the other day probably bounced it off the garage.
Criminy, between the wind and the cat...we'll bring down that songbird population. Yeesh!
Wednesday, August 07, 2002
Russell had a doctor's appointment yesterday. Russell has only gained a half inch of height since last August. In addition,he's lost 1.5 lbs since that time. In short, the meds and him aren't doing well. So we sat down and talked to him with the babysitter and we talked about a gameplan of him eating what was served even if he felt full. We said we'd make sure to serve him helpings he could eat, but that it was his job to eat it.
Then, I went out last night and took $300 out of the bank that we can't afford and went to the store and bought $180 worth of groceries. We got lots of protein-ish snacks like cheese sticks, and I bought easy to make lunch stuff like mac and cheese and Russell lobbied hard to eat more at dinner at least. I think though when school starts, we should be better on the meds front in the evening. If he has to get up early and take that pill early, then we can get breakfast into him before the pill kicks in and we can get dinner into him as the pill is wearing off.
I'm just feeling scared and worried for him.
We also talked to him about that he needs to exercise daily to build muscle. We don't want him to eat a bunch of crap and get fat, but if he exercises he gets to build muscle and mass that way. He seemed inspired to work at that and his babysitter now feels she has license to make him get off his pitooty and walk and swim.
Genny is potty-trained. She's wearing big girl underwear now and lets you know if she has to go. We still put her in a pull-up at night because she occasionally wets them, but most of the time she wakes up dry. She's still sleeping fitfully, but at least she's sleeping. It's sad thought in some ways to just see her grow up. I miss nursing with her and the diaper changing was kind of a dear reminder that she was still my baby. She's not that little baby any more though.
I like that she is still young enough to think that cuddling with Mommy is the best thing since sliced bread though. Well, and that and the fact that she hasn't learned to say the phrase,"He's 18 and drives a Corvette."
Tuesday, August 06, 2002
I was going to go swimming this morning, but I hit the snooze button instead. It kind of sounds like a little kid, doesn't it? "I'd have done my homework, but my dog peed on it. "
Speaking of kids...this was too funny. Russell got grounded off of TV/computers which is his usual punishment for things and I found out he'd been watching TV at the neighbors. I talked to him about it and asked him if he owed me another day. So my smart kid says, "I owe you until noon, I think." To which I said, "Well, I think you owe me a day." He groused about it and I finally had a moment of parental brilliance and said,"If a policeman stops you and you only have a little bit of an illegal drug in the car, you can still get arrested. Did you know that? Because it's still breaking the law. And you broke Mom's law." To which he replied, "Wow." Then my son got smart on me, dammit. "So when you and dad drive a few miles over the speed limit, you're still breaking the law?" Dangit! Caught again. "Yes, we are. Although policemen are usually too busy chasing down real criminals to worry about us going over the speed limit a little bit." He frowned,"You should get a ticket!" "No, we shouldn't because we can't afford the insurance." "Well, but if you got a ticket, you'd drive a lot slower." "Russell, I already have gotten tickets. I drive a LOT slower than I used to." Pause. I say,"So back to the point, I still think you owe me a day." "Yeah, you're right."
At least I didn't have to talk about my wild sex days. Yeesh.
We did stay up and play Magic the Gathering. Russell and I beat the snot out of Mike and he was so worried about defense that I had time to get out something big that flew and I took him out in two turns with that and my other two flying creatures. Usually, by the time the meds would have worn off he'd have been a whiny loser, but instead he seemed genuinely pleased to have gotten to play. He couldn't shut up for an instant, but he was cute. Really really cute.
Genny and I cuddled and played in the chair together. She'd climb up over me and I"d grab her, turn her upside down and drop her down the back of the chair which just busted her up. She'd then run to her Daddy and get hugs, kisses and tickles from him and climb right back up again.
When she was hugging me good night, I said,"Baby hugs are just the best hugs in the whole world." Russell piped up,"What about Bear hugs?" I said, "I don't know. I haven't had any of those in a while, let's see." He'd just come out of the shower and he hadn't toweled off his head. So I got this delightful little boy hug with water pouring down my neck. I declared it a tie and toweled off!
Not being there as much makes me more appreciative of what I have. So while I am perpetually tired lately, today I feel phenomenally blessed.
Speaking of kids...this was too funny. Russell got grounded off of TV/computers which is his usual punishment for things and I found out he'd been watching TV at the neighbors. I talked to him about it and asked him if he owed me another day. So my smart kid says, "I owe you until noon, I think." To which I said, "Well, I think you owe me a day." He groused about it and I finally had a moment of parental brilliance and said,"If a policeman stops you and you only have a little bit of an illegal drug in the car, you can still get arrested. Did you know that? Because it's still breaking the law. And you broke Mom's law." To which he replied, "Wow." Then my son got smart on me, dammit. "So when you and dad drive a few miles over the speed limit, you're still breaking the law?" Dangit! Caught again. "Yes, we are. Although policemen are usually too busy chasing down real criminals to worry about us going over the speed limit a little bit." He frowned,"You should get a ticket!" "No, we shouldn't because we can't afford the insurance." "Well, but if you got a ticket, you'd drive a lot slower." "Russell, I already have gotten tickets. I drive a LOT slower than I used to." Pause. I say,"So back to the point, I still think you owe me a day." "Yeah, you're right."
At least I didn't have to talk about my wild sex days. Yeesh.
We did stay up and play Magic the Gathering. Russell and I beat the snot out of Mike and he was so worried about defense that I had time to get out something big that flew and I took him out in two turns with that and my other two flying creatures. Usually, by the time the meds would have worn off he'd have been a whiny loser, but instead he seemed genuinely pleased to have gotten to play. He couldn't shut up for an instant, but he was cute. Really really cute.
Genny and I cuddled and played in the chair together. She'd climb up over me and I"d grab her, turn her upside down and drop her down the back of the chair which just busted her up. She'd then run to her Daddy and get hugs, kisses and tickles from him and climb right back up again.
When she was hugging me good night, I said,"Baby hugs are just the best hugs in the whole world." Russell piped up,"What about Bear hugs?" I said, "I don't know. I haven't had any of those in a while, let's see." He'd just come out of the shower and he hadn't toweled off his head. So I got this delightful little boy hug with water pouring down my neck. I declared it a tie and toweled off!
Not being there as much makes me more appreciative of what I have. So while I am perpetually tired lately, today I feel phenomenally blessed.
Monday, August 05, 2002
This job is a bad fit. Never mind that the hours are relentless, but it's just not turning out very well for me. I am looking forward to taking two classes in the fall. One class is a brush up on HTML that goes over scripting and does some intense style sheeting. I can do some of that stuff, but I'd like to be better at it and I'm getting sorely out of practice. The other class is a VB class and that is much more promising. I am hoping that between the two, I can get to programming ASP, which is then something I could do at the same company for more money, or some other company for more money. At this point, I'm not picky.
I miss working for the university. Nothing like a gubment job -- not to be confused with gubment cheese either, mind you. I really like that sense of feeling at service. Working for a company where all my work contributes to some already rich guy's increasing wealth simply doesn't do much for me. (to country western music,"Ooooh, I'm a bleeding heart liberal....") As a co-worker on the threshold of leaving this company in the face of $50/hour in overtime says,"Money isn't everything."
I wish we didn't have all the student loan debt because then I'd just stay at home and cook, sew, and garden. If I could convert where I live to a viable organic farm, now, that'd be really cool. I just haven't figured out the best way to get rid of sagebrush, yet. Although, on the composting site I was on, they said if you get a chipper and chip your composting materials that it is the best route to go in composting. Bulldozer and a chipper...and then I'd be all set.
Yup, gotta love me some heavy equipment. Yesterday, my husband mentioned that we could use a chainsaw to take down the sagebrush and I swear I was all aflutter. What's truly scary to me in a weird way is that I know I'd feel totally comfortable renting a bulldozer and tearing things up. Scary, isn't it?
I miss working for the university. Nothing like a gubment job -- not to be confused with gubment cheese either, mind you. I really like that sense of feeling at service. Working for a company where all my work contributes to some already rich guy's increasing wealth simply doesn't do much for me. (to country western music,"Ooooh, I'm a bleeding heart liberal....") As a co-worker on the threshold of leaving this company in the face of $50/hour in overtime says,"Money isn't everything."
I wish we didn't have all the student loan debt because then I'd just stay at home and cook, sew, and garden. If I could convert where I live to a viable organic farm, now, that'd be really cool. I just haven't figured out the best way to get rid of sagebrush, yet. Although, on the composting site I was on, they said if you get a chipper and chip your composting materials that it is the best route to go in composting. Bulldozer and a chipper...and then I'd be all set.
Yup, gotta love me some heavy equipment. Yesterday, my husband mentioned that we could use a chainsaw to take down the sagebrush and I swear I was all aflutter. What's truly scary to me in a weird way is that I know I'd feel totally comfortable renting a bulldozer and tearing things up. Scary, isn't it?
I'm having a hard time sleeping lately because baby girl doesn't sleep. We can't quite figure out what's going on in her small world that makes her wake up between the hours of 3 and 5AM screaming a bloodcurdling cry, but you can be assured she is not curdling milk, as I am not the proud owner of cottage cheese, but rather red-rimmed eyes. We're going to try putting the fan on low in her room to screen out any outside noise that might be awakening her, and if that fails, there's always tequila.
We had friends over on Saturday night and it was fun. We were watching Scooby-Doo with the kids and playing Star Wars Trivial Pursuit. At about 10PM, I kicked them out because I was literally nodding off in my chair. I waved good night and crawled into bed. I have no idea when my husband joined me because I was out cold.
The cool thing about having house guests is that we cleaned. I have a clean house. I also have a cleaned up yard. I am starting a compost bucket, but with all the weeds in our yard, it's already nearly full. I have to find the recipe for making compost work. I want to have a butt-load of compost available by next summer because I'm going to have a kick-butt garden. You should be aware of the fact that I already have a kick-butt garden. I have sugar peas that melt in your mouth and taste like candy. I have tomato and pepper plants that are covered in ripening fruit. I have strawberry plants that are so robust they are spawning runners. I have bush basil that has bushed up into a lovely clump and I have pole beans that are spiraling up trellises and poles. And while I am still trying to figure out the fine art of lawn, I can grow vegetables, so I'm very hopeful about my ability to compost.
If nothing else, the bullshit around my house ought to fertilize things perfectly.
We had friends over on Saturday night and it was fun. We were watching Scooby-Doo with the kids and playing Star Wars Trivial Pursuit. At about 10PM, I kicked them out because I was literally nodding off in my chair. I waved good night and crawled into bed. I have no idea when my husband joined me because I was out cold.
The cool thing about having house guests is that we cleaned. I have a clean house. I also have a cleaned up yard. I am starting a compost bucket, but with all the weeds in our yard, it's already nearly full. I have to find the recipe for making compost work. I want to have a butt-load of compost available by next summer because I'm going to have a kick-butt garden. You should be aware of the fact that I already have a kick-butt garden. I have sugar peas that melt in your mouth and taste like candy. I have tomato and pepper plants that are covered in ripening fruit. I have strawberry plants that are so robust they are spawning runners. I have bush basil that has bushed up into a lovely clump and I have pole beans that are spiraling up trellises and poles. And while I am still trying to figure out the fine art of lawn, I can grow vegetables, so I'm very hopeful about my ability to compost.
If nothing else, the bullshit around my house ought to fertilize things perfectly.
Friday, August 02, 2002
I fell asleep as predicted, but as of last night, I had already made 44 hours for the week. As Mike pointed out, all I have to do is work a regular 8 today and I'll still be over 50 hours and thus, make my $50/hour. Despite my sleeping last night, neither of us slept much this morning, however. I think we need to pull that massage table out of the garage and dust the damned thing off so we can use it. I was massaging him and him me and we were both groaning and moaning like the soundtrack to a porn flick and we weren't doing anything pornographic...at the time.
I bit my tongue in my sleep though and all I have to say is,"Ow, like totally Ow." I think I may have lived in California too long, I sound like a Valley Girl. Of course, what I get a kick out of lately is when I am talking, I am realizing my recent trip back east has brought back my New Hampsha accent. (Like Totally.)
My online friend, CS, is a diabetic and pregnant with her third and has had kind of a harried pregnancy, but yesterday she found out she's having a healthy boy. Woohoo! I know by that time, I'll actually have money to send adorable clothing and I'll break down and make a blanket. My old neighbor has this one kind she makes that I could probably have her show me how to do, so I could make one for CS. If all else fails, I'm buying a pre-made block, buying some pretty genderized trim and sewing that and sending it.
I'd really like to figure out how to make a quilt. They have all those really cute pre-cut sets in a lot of the fabric stores that I'd be totally happy to experiment with. I'm thinking if I can get that down, that I might even break down and cut my own out. Knowing how much I like to cut fabric, I am sooo doubting that,though. The other thing is that with quilting there seems to be so damned much equipment. I've seen the quilting shows in PBS and they have one of those roller cutting blades with the special cutting mat, and then you're supposed to hang/stretch them, too. It just all seems like an awful lot of work for a blanket. Though, the store bought quilt I have on my bed is really awesome.
I guess if I was going to make a quilt, I'd make a really large one that would have bedspread dimensions for our king-sized bed. The quilts I've seen that I like the best are the ones that look like a mural of something. And I think those might be a bit out of my league yet.
Well, I really should get to work. We'll see how later in the day goes.
I bit my tongue in my sleep though and all I have to say is,"Ow, like totally Ow." I think I may have lived in California too long, I sound like a Valley Girl. Of course, what I get a kick out of lately is when I am talking, I am realizing my recent trip back east has brought back my New Hampsha accent. (Like Totally.)
My online friend, CS, is a diabetic and pregnant with her third and has had kind of a harried pregnancy, but yesterday she found out she's having a healthy boy. Woohoo! I know by that time, I'll actually have money to send adorable clothing and I'll break down and make a blanket. My old neighbor has this one kind she makes that I could probably have her show me how to do, so I could make one for CS. If all else fails, I'm buying a pre-made block, buying some pretty genderized trim and sewing that and sending it.
I'd really like to figure out how to make a quilt. They have all those really cute pre-cut sets in a lot of the fabric stores that I'd be totally happy to experiment with. I'm thinking if I can get that down, that I might even break down and cut my own out. Knowing how much I like to cut fabric, I am sooo doubting that,though. The other thing is that with quilting there seems to be so damned much equipment. I've seen the quilting shows in PBS and they have one of those roller cutting blades with the special cutting mat, and then you're supposed to hang/stretch them, too. It just all seems like an awful lot of work for a blanket. Though, the store bought quilt I have on my bed is really awesome.
I guess if I was going to make a quilt, I'd make a really large one that would have bedspread dimensions for our king-sized bed. The quilts I've seen that I like the best are the ones that look like a mural of something. And I think those might be a bit out of my league yet.
Well, I really should get to work. We'll see how later in the day goes.
Thursday, August 01, 2002
Later that day...
I just made my 40 hours for the week about an hour ago. I'll be here another 3 hours at least.
I miss my husband a lot. There's a lot I'd like to do with him tonight. Dinner will be a cakewalk because it's crockpot of bbq beans and lean pork shoulder and just some plain ole bread. We even own paper bowls, so I can get rid of the dishes issue. I can call in an hour and have the babysitter make Russell water the plants for me.
My idea of a perfect evening: watch sunset with husband, while children scurry about. Put children to bed. Light candles in bedroom. Call to husband in that "I need you now" voice to get something off the top shelf of the closet. Meet husband at door in birthday suit. Tear off husband's clothes and smooch him half to death. Fall into deep sleep wrapped in husband's arms and sleep like the dead til morning.
With my luck, I'll probably fall asleep in the chair.
I just made my 40 hours for the week about an hour ago. I'll be here another 3 hours at least.
I miss my husband a lot. There's a lot I'd like to do with him tonight. Dinner will be a cakewalk because it's crockpot of bbq beans and lean pork shoulder and just some plain ole bread. We even own paper bowls, so I can get rid of the dishes issue. I can call in an hour and have the babysitter make Russell water the plants for me.
My idea of a perfect evening: watch sunset with husband, while children scurry about. Put children to bed. Light candles in bedroom. Call to husband in that "I need you now" voice to get something off the top shelf of the closet. Meet husband at door in birthday suit. Tear off husband's clothes and smooch him half to death. Fall into deep sleep wrapped in husband's arms and sleep like the dead til morning.
With my luck, I'll probably fall asleep in the chair.
I am Tired with a capital T. I didn't know I could ache so much.
I just wish there was decent expresso around here. The only way I got through college when I was last this tired, was tall mochas. I sure could use a tall mocha. And sleep. And SEX.
Tired parents = no sex
There's been lots of meaningful wiggling, giggling, and smooching, but to no avail. One of us falls asleep before anyone acts.
I'm actually enjoying my kids lately. What the fuck is up with that? I'm more tired than Atlas and my kids are just the coolest creatures in town. Okay, Genny's still doing crack, but Russell is actually cool. Holy cow!
I just wish there was decent expresso around here. The only way I got through college when I was last this tired, was tall mochas. I sure could use a tall mocha. And sleep. And SEX.
Tired parents = no sex
There's been lots of meaningful wiggling, giggling, and smooching, but to no avail. One of us falls asleep before anyone acts.
I'm actually enjoying my kids lately. What the fuck is up with that? I'm more tired than Atlas and my kids are just the coolest creatures in town. Okay, Genny's still doing crack, but Russell is actually cool. Holy cow!
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