Dear Whoever Keeps Peeing On the God Damn Seat In The Girls Bathroom,
Seriously? You couldn't have just wiped that up? Or sat on the toilet that's probably cleaned more than your own bathroom?
3.24.2008
3.17.2008
It's Raining, It's Pouring
It's raining to beat the band out there, as my mother would say. Or is it "ban?" I don't know. The woman has more expressions than I can count. Really. I've been writing them down for the last 15 years or so, because they're hilarious and odd and I rarely hear anyone but her use most of them. One of my favorites is, "from hell to breakfast." As in, "If I'd have said that, my daddy would've kicked my ass from hell to breakfast." Seriously, this is just how she talks. I love it.
Anyway, I know you're just dying to hear more about my animals defecation habits, so let's get that out of the way. We spoke with our vet, and evidently, some dogs just "can't handle the fiber" in this new dog food. There's an understatement if I ever heard one. The solution? Keep Zoe on the new food and put Gina back on the old. As if we didn't have enough daily pet processes to work through. Some day, in my dreams, I will have a home with *decent* (I'm not even asking for nice here) furniture and floors that have not been destroyed by four-legged creatures.
Oh, who am I kidding? Once these critters are gone, I'll probably get suckered into more.
******
Is it just me, or is St. Patrick's Day one of the dumbest holidays ever? Who'd have thought so many people would take pride in a celebration of one's heritage that often seems only to amount to a glorified abuse of alcohol and the color green? I'm not knocking anybody here. I'm sure I've got some Irish blood, just like half of America. I just wonder why more people don't find it mildly offensive that centuries worth of an entire culture have been boiled down into leprechauns and green beer. It's kind of like how Italians are always represented as one giant crime family of gun-toting, drug-dealing henchmen. Maybe it'd be easier to take if we made a hallmark holiday out of it, with lots of red wine (you know, red for all the blood we shed) and cutesy little organza bags with grams of cocaine in them. Just a minute while I get the Vatican on the phone...
******
So yeah, you won't find me throwing down on St. Patty's Day, but I'll recount a tale a friend of mine told me from the weekend's celebrations. She was walking down a heavily-populated bar area Saturday night, when she saw a young girl with a bachelorette sash across her chest run drunkenly out into the middle of the street and get struck by a Lexus. She heard a scream and then a loud thud, and the girl was almost struck a second time by a car going in the opposite direction. The girl got up and walked away. Everyone clapped. The man in the Lexus asked who was gonna pay for the dent in his car.
The girl was seen again later in the night at a nearby bar. While I'm sure your inebriated stamina is applaudable, that had to be one hell of a hangover the next day.
Anyway, I know you're just dying to hear more about my animals defecation habits, so let's get that out of the way. We spoke with our vet, and evidently, some dogs just "can't handle the fiber" in this new dog food. There's an understatement if I ever heard one. The solution? Keep Zoe on the new food and put Gina back on the old. As if we didn't have enough daily pet processes to work through. Some day, in my dreams, I will have a home with *decent* (I'm not even asking for nice here) furniture and floors that have not been destroyed by four-legged creatures.
Oh, who am I kidding? Once these critters are gone, I'll probably get suckered into more.
******
Is it just me, or is St. Patrick's Day one of the dumbest holidays ever? Who'd have thought so many people would take pride in a celebration of one's heritage that often seems only to amount to a glorified abuse of alcohol and the color green? I'm not knocking anybody here. I'm sure I've got some Irish blood, just like half of America. I just wonder why more people don't find it mildly offensive that centuries worth of an entire culture have been boiled down into leprechauns and green beer. It's kind of like how Italians are always represented as one giant crime family of gun-toting, drug-dealing henchmen. Maybe it'd be easier to take if we made a hallmark holiday out of it, with lots of red wine (you know, red for all the blood we shed) and cutesy little organza bags with grams of cocaine in them. Just a minute while I get the Vatican on the phone...
******
So yeah, you won't find me throwing down on St. Patty's Day, but I'll recount a tale a friend of mine told me from the weekend's celebrations. She was walking down a heavily-populated bar area Saturday night, when she saw a young girl with a bachelorette sash across her chest run drunkenly out into the middle of the street and get struck by a Lexus. She heard a scream and then a loud thud, and the girl was almost struck a second time by a car going in the opposite direction. The girl got up and walked away. Everyone clapped. The man in the Lexus asked who was gonna pay for the dent in his car.
The girl was seen again later in the night at a nearby bar. While I'm sure your inebriated stamina is applaudable, that had to be one hell of a hangover the next day.
3.13.2008
You're In the Jungle, Baby!
Yesterday, I was looking at this website and a co-worker saw what I was looking at and exclaimed, "That's dumb!"
Silly, yes. Over the top? Maybe. But dumb?
What's dumb about website dedicated to posting hilarious and adorable photos and video of animals? Have you been on the internet lately? Do we really need to talk about the myriad of sites available and the ridiculous topics to which they are devoted? I think you're dumb.
I've given it some thought, and I think at the ripe age of 31, I've made an important self-discovery: If you do not like animals, we can not be friends. Something is fundamentally wrong (dare I say evil?) with harboring a general disdain for other living things. Perhaps you prefer not to have pets or spend time with animals. Fine. I think you're a little nutty, but hey, I respect your personal preference. The keyword is "respect." Lest we forget we're merely animals ourselves.
*******
Now that I've made my epiphanic declaration, let's discuss the downsides of pet ownership.
No sooner had we finished cleaning up bloody pee for a week straight, then my other dog began pooping ALL OVER THE HOUSE on a near daily basis. The reason I know it is my beloved German shepherd, Gina, is because she has the unique habit of walking while she poops, as though she's leaving a trail of breadcrumbs through the forest, only the forest is my yard and driveway (our mailman undoubtedly hates us), and now my home. Unlike Zoe, who squats still, like a normal dog. I come home each night to find a trail of turds leading from the couch in the living room through the kitchen and into our bedroom. Recently, she's begun urinating in the house as well. I don't know if this is because their food was switched during the whole UTI fiasco, if it's simply old age or if this is an effect from the prednisone, but I intend to call our vet and ask what the fuck.
Meanwhile, as we're cleaning up feces and opening windows (hey, wanna come over?), the felines are stepping gingerly around turds the size of their heads, seating themselves on a nearby perch so they can stare and occasionally blink disgustedly at us, as if they've never seen such filth.
As if to ask, "Surely you don't expect us to cover this up?"
******
Silly, yes. Over the top? Maybe. But dumb?
What's dumb about website dedicated to posting hilarious and adorable photos and video of animals? Have you been on the internet lately? Do we really need to talk about the myriad of sites available and the ridiculous topics to which they are devoted? I think you're dumb.
I've given it some thought, and I think at the ripe age of 31, I've made an important self-discovery: If you do not like animals, we can not be friends. Something is fundamentally wrong (dare I say evil?) with harboring a general disdain for other living things. Perhaps you prefer not to have pets or spend time with animals. Fine. I think you're a little nutty, but hey, I respect your personal preference. The keyword is "respect." Lest we forget we're merely animals ourselves.
*******
Now that I've made my epiphanic declaration, let's discuss the downsides of pet ownership.
No sooner had we finished cleaning up bloody pee for a week straight, then my other dog began pooping ALL OVER THE HOUSE on a near daily basis. The reason I know it is my beloved German shepherd, Gina, is because she has the unique habit of walking while she poops, as though she's leaving a trail of breadcrumbs through the forest, only the forest is my yard and driveway (our mailman undoubtedly hates us), and now my home. Unlike Zoe, who squats still, like a normal dog. I come home each night to find a trail of turds leading from the couch in the living room through the kitchen and into our bedroom. Recently, she's begun urinating in the house as well. I don't know if this is because their food was switched during the whole UTI fiasco, if it's simply old age or if this is an effect from the prednisone, but I intend to call our vet and ask what the fuck.
Meanwhile, as we're cleaning up feces and opening windows (hey, wanna come over?), the felines are stepping gingerly around turds the size of their heads, seating themselves on a nearby perch so they can stare and occasionally blink disgustedly at us, as if they've never seen such filth.
As if to ask, "Surely you don't expect us to cover this up?"
******
3.10.2008
What Do I Care If Icicles Fall?
I finally had my review last week. I received excellent marks – as if I expected anything else, right? This is the first time I've had a review that involved meeting with four people, and it was a little nerve racking. What's worse is, after we went over my "scores," my direct supervisor had to leave the room so the other 3 people could interrogate me on her performance as a manager. What am I going to say here, folks? The only response was the one in keeping with my new "No Drama" work policy. "She's doing an excellent job!"
I've experienced my fair share of office drama, and frankly, I'm over it. It can be hard to rise above it, because you spend a good chunk of your life at work. Even the most skillfully detached may find it hard not to take a sense of pride or responsibility in what they do, and therefore may find the blatant disregard for their hard work and sacrifice frustrating. You may even feel justified in speaking out against injustices perpetrated. I support you; leaders of the movement, advocates of change, proponents of equality. I just don't have the energy for it these days. The cons have drastically outweighed the pros of speaking out in my last few work places. My chances of winning the battle within the corporate environment are slim, and at best, my candor only serves as a temporary release of my frustration. Sure, there have been a few time where I spoke my mind, and regardless of the outcome, I felt pride in not being a doormat or standing up to a bully. But in my experience, the conflict and/or the job just hasn't been worth the trouble.
******
State of Emergency!
It snowed about a foot this past weekend. We were officially under a state of emergency, which in our family means a "State of Emergency Party." I love nothing more than being trapped in my house with my loved one and litter of fuzzy creatures, complete with a bottle of bourbon, good food and movies, during inclement weather. Seriously, it's like one of my favorite things on earth. Something about having a legitimate excuse to hole up and not go anywhere. "Sorry. Trapped. Can't leave." If I come into a lot of money someday, I'll be spending my winters in a cabin in Maine, so that I may experience a 3-month long State of Emergency Party. I'm telling you, it does wonders for one's creativity.
I've experienced my fair share of office drama, and frankly, I'm over it. It can be hard to rise above it, because you spend a good chunk of your life at work. Even the most skillfully detached may find it hard not to take a sense of pride or responsibility in what they do, and therefore may find the blatant disregard for their hard work and sacrifice frustrating. You may even feel justified in speaking out against injustices perpetrated. I support you; leaders of the movement, advocates of change, proponents of equality. I just don't have the energy for it these days. The cons have drastically outweighed the pros of speaking out in my last few work places. My chances of winning the battle within the corporate environment are slim, and at best, my candor only serves as a temporary release of my frustration. Sure, there have been a few time where I spoke my mind, and regardless of the outcome, I felt pride in not being a doormat or standing up to a bully. But in my experience, the conflict and/or the job just hasn't been worth the trouble.
******
State of Emergency!
It snowed about a foot this past weekend. We were officially under a state of emergency, which in our family means a "State of Emergency Party." I love nothing more than being trapped in my house with my loved one and litter of fuzzy creatures, complete with a bottle of bourbon, good food and movies, during inclement weather. Seriously, it's like one of my favorite things on earth. Something about having a legitimate excuse to hole up and not go anywhere. "Sorry. Trapped. Can't leave." If I come into a lot of money someday, I'll be spending my winters in a cabin in Maine, so that I may experience a 3-month long State of Emergency Party. I'm telling you, it does wonders for one's creativity.
3.03.2008
3.01.2008
Easy Like Sunday Morning (except it's Saturday)
Playing a rock show is not a bad way to end a very stressful week. All of us had a rough week one way or another. (Our bassist found out all their pets have worms! Yuck.) It felt like we combusted under the pressure with sweet release. We had a special guest play with us last night, my cousin C., who sings like an angel and plays violin to match. She brings a new energy and makes everything sound much fuller. If only we could have her all the time.
Today is a well-deserved lazy day, with our greatest accomplishment so far being the shower I took and the clean sheets we put on our bed. The sun's shining, and I considered opening the windows, but I think it may be a little premature. Winter is not done with us yet, though it is nice to see the sun again. The dogs have spent most of the day outside, lying in the grass like cows in a field...except for when the neighborhood kids come by on their skateboards and they take off sprinting to follow them the length of the fence, barking like crazy. The cats are taking turns lying in the sunlight coming through the living room windows and sleeping their cat bed in our darkened studio. They may even inspire me to nap.
Today is a well-deserved lazy day, with our greatest accomplishment so far being the shower I took and the clean sheets we put on our bed. The sun's shining, and I considered opening the windows, but I think it may be a little premature. Winter is not done with us yet, though it is nice to see the sun again. The dogs have spent most of the day outside, lying in the grass like cows in a field...except for when the neighborhood kids come by on their skateboards and they take off sprinting to follow them the length of the fence, barking like crazy. The cats are taking turns lying in the sunlight coming through the living room windows and sleeping their cat bed in our darkened studio. They may even inspire me to nap.
2.29.2008
Let It Bleed And Bleed (Pt. II)
How much red can a red dog red if a red dog keeps peeing red?
Zoe is showing signs of improvement, but not as much as I would like. Fortunately, she doesn't seem to be in much pain. It's getting a bit tiresome cleaning up bloody urine and washing dog towels all the time. Even when we're home, she doesn't always let us know she needs to go outside. I think she just can't control herself. And meanwhile Gina looks scared every time we come home and there is pee on the floor. The cats seem to have picked up on her illness because they stand very close to her, sniffing and looking concerned. It's a bit stressful at our home. B has the day off, so I'm taking comfort in the knowledge that everyone is getting a lot of love and attention today.
2.27.2008
Let It Bleed. And Bleed. And Bleed.
Yesterday was filled with stress. The kind where it feels like an elephant is sitting on you. Even when you're able to hold the moment at arms length, examine it, reason with it, and you know it's going to be ok regardless. But the shit just keeps coming, like you slipped on the one turd holding it all in place. Aside from the time I spent with my lady friends after hours, I'd have just canceled yesterday all together. ("Everyone go home. Today's been canceled. It's much to shitty.")
My dog has a urinary tract infection. In case you haven't experienced this before, let me give you a little head's up: pints of coagulated blood-laced urine are perfectly normal.
I came home from rehearsal Monday to discover what looked like the scene of a crime, and by the look on my German shepherd's face, you'd have thought she committed one. I suspected it may have been a UTI, which is the only reason I didn't completely freak. I assumed it was my shepherd, because she's been on steroids for arthritis in her hip. Prednisone makes dogs (and humans) very thirsty, they drink a lot, and they have to pee more frequently. I thought maybe the medicine was causing her organs to failure. We thought, this is it. I examined her and thought I saw remnants of dark pee. Regrettably, I did not examine my red dog. Long story short and $200 later, we discover the wrong dog has been taken to the vet and subsequently had to endure a stressful experience, while the sick dog was at home, trying to push pee out so hard that we later discovered may have caused what looks like a broken blood vessel in her eye.
Yuck. Ow. Sweet Jesus.
So we've been cleaning up bloody pee and running load after load of laundry, waking up at all hours of the night, cleaning up more bloody pee and letting the dog out and in and out and in for the last three days.
The good news is, Zoe has only taken 2 rounds of antibiotics and she's already showing major improvement. She even did the crazy mad dash in the house when I called her in this morning, tail wagging. And there was a lot less pee to clean up tonight too. I am truly relieved.
*******
My review has been rescheduled. Will any potential raise be retroactive to the year anniversary of my start date, nearly two months ago? Outcome unlikely.
*******
Spring is just around the corner, Friends. Winter hasn't bled all my hopes dry. Good things are on the horizon, even if it feels a bit tight at the moment.
My dog has a urinary tract infection. In case you haven't experienced this before, let me give you a little head's up: pints of coagulated blood-laced urine are perfectly normal.
I came home from rehearsal Monday to discover what looked like the scene of a crime, and by the look on my German shepherd's face, you'd have thought she committed one. I suspected it may have been a UTI, which is the only reason I didn't completely freak. I assumed it was my shepherd, because she's been on steroids for arthritis in her hip. Prednisone makes dogs (and humans) very thirsty, they drink a lot, and they have to pee more frequently. I thought maybe the medicine was causing her organs to failure. We thought, this is it. I examined her and thought I saw remnants of dark pee. Regrettably, I did not examine my red dog. Long story short and $200 later, we discover the wrong dog has been taken to the vet and subsequently had to endure a stressful experience, while the sick dog was at home, trying to push pee out so hard that we later discovered may have caused what looks like a broken blood vessel in her eye.
Yuck. Ow. Sweet Jesus.
So we've been cleaning up bloody pee and running load after load of laundry, waking up at all hours of the night, cleaning up more bloody pee and letting the dog out and in and out and in for the last three days.
The good news is, Zoe has only taken 2 rounds of antibiotics and she's already showing major improvement. She even did the crazy mad dash in the house when I called her in this morning, tail wagging. And there was a lot less pee to clean up tonight too. I am truly relieved.
*******
My review has been rescheduled. Will any potential raise be retroactive to the year anniversary of my start date, nearly two months ago? Outcome unlikely.
*******
Spring is just around the corner, Friends. Winter hasn't bled all my hopes dry. Good things are on the horizon, even if it feels a bit tight at the moment.
2.26.2008
Now You're Messing With
An angry bitch! Remember the review I prepared for a week early? It was rescheduled. For today. At 2pm. At 1:59, I was informed that one of the FOUR people who is supposed to participate called in sick and we will now reschedule for a third time. Evidently this information couldn't have been relayed to me in a timely fashion, say at the beginning of the day when they first found out. Normally I would take this in stride and not be boiling over with the fury of 1000 Hells Angels, as I am right now, if it weren't for the fact that I completely abandoned my husband today to deal with an emergency pet situation. One that involved blood and a healthy dose of fear and transporting our beloved creature back and forth to the vet's office, a good 25 minutes from our home. Causing him to be out a half day's work, when his hours have already cut. The pet situation is under control, however my temper could use a little work.
2.15.2008
What's Going On
I shouldn't be allowed to watch or read the news before I'm fully awake. I'm much too sensitive for this kind of thing even at my best moments. I should give myself plenty of time to slip on that thick layer of skin before I face the world and it's saturated news market capitalizing on the misfortune of others and sensationalizing the minutest of details.
There was another random shooting at a college yesterday. All I have to say about that is: What the f#ck people?! Get a hold of yourselves! And then a twenty second blurb about how a satellite we put in space may come crashing to the earth. But rest assured, NASA's got everything under control. They're just going to fire a couple missiles at it to break it up into smaller pieces first.
So if you're out for a stroll and you happen to see a piece of metal fall from the sky, chances are the pieces weren't small enough to disintegrate upon entering our atmosphere, and you might want to get out of the way.
*************
After all this good news, I caught a few minutes of the Curious George cartoon. I'd like to end with an actual quote from this episode:
"George and Jumpy played nut hockey till the sun went down."
Um...
There was another random shooting at a college yesterday. All I have to say about that is: What the f#ck people?! Get a hold of yourselves! And then a twenty second blurb about how a satellite we put in space may come crashing to the earth. But rest assured, NASA's got everything under control. They're just going to fire a couple missiles at it to break it up into smaller pieces first.
So if you're out for a stroll and you happen to see a piece of metal fall from the sky, chances are the pieces weren't small enough to disintegrate upon entering our atmosphere, and you might want to get out of the way.
*************
After all this good news, I caught a few minutes of the Curious George cartoon. I'd like to end with an actual quote from this episode:
"George and Jumpy played nut hockey till the sun went down."
Um...
2.13.2008
The Mess Around
I took my sweet time getting up this morning, lounging around, drinking coffee, slowing waking to the world. I knew we'd be late, but the roads were slick and there were flannel sheets on my bed. Finally I dressed and was just about to walk out the door, when I realized I have my first annual review at work today. It was too late to turn back on that shower I swore off for the second day in a row, but I scrounged up some better looking clothes (translation: jeans without holes, a decent shirt tossed in the dryer for a few minutes to get out most of the wrinkles) and tied my hair in a knot. I put in my contacts and applied make-up in the car while B. drove us into the city.
Now I'm at work and I've just realized:
a) I forgot to brush my teeth
b) there are stains (coffee?) on my jeans
***************
I ran errands on my lunch break that took a bit more time than I expected, turning my hour long lunch into an hour-and-a-half long lunch. I race-walked the 4 blocks back to the office, threw down my coat and bag and headed to the bathroom to tidy up before my review. Then I came back to my desk to double check the time for our meeting.
It's for next Wednesday.
Now I'm at work and I've just realized:
a) I forgot to brush my teeth
b) there are stains (coffee?) on my jeans
***************
I ran errands on my lunch break that took a bit more time than I expected, turning my hour long lunch into an hour-and-a-half long lunch. I race-walked the 4 blocks back to the office, threw down my coat and bag and headed to the bathroom to tidy up before my review. Then I came back to my desk to double check the time for our meeting.
It's for next Wednesday.
2.12.2008
Do Right Woman
This morning, as I was staring disapprovingly at the flesh bulging out from my jeans, lamenting the exercise I desperately need, if for no other reason than to simply keep my bones from melding together, I had the nerve to wonder how this happened.
Later when I got to work, there was a giant cookie cake sitting in front of the coffee maker. Before I could register what I was doing, I squealed, "Sweet! Cookie cake!" and gobbled down a piece.
Oh. That's how that happened.
**********************
They brought in Kentucky Hot Brown for lunch, along with broccoli soup so thick it could double as cheese dip. God help me.
**********************
Ok, I had some of the soup, but I passed on the hot brown. Get off my back already.
Later when I got to work, there was a giant cookie cake sitting in front of the coffee maker. Before I could register what I was doing, I squealed, "Sweet! Cookie cake!" and gobbled down a piece.
Oh. That's how that happened.
**********************
They brought in Kentucky Hot Brown for lunch, along with broccoli soup so thick it could double as cheese dip. God help me.
**********************
Ok, I had some of the soup, but I passed on the hot brown. Get off my back already.
2.04.2008
A Fine Romance
Indeed. B & I rented a little cabin in the County o' Brown this past weekend, otherwise known as the "We Don't Have A Baby...Hooray!" weekend extravaganza. But in fact, we have 5 fuzzy ones, two of whom we brought on our trip. Next time, we'll think better of that. Aside from the fact that this is the first trip we've taken in three and a half years, since our honeymoon, for no other reason than to just "spend time together," we've spent the last couple months looking forward to this trip for mainly two reasons: fireplace and hot tub.
We arrived at the cabin to find the driveway, which was curvy and steep, completely iced over. Unable to drive the car to the top, we were forced to unload two elderly, arthritic dogs and all of our weekend belongings at the base of the hill. Six periling trips up and down the driveway of Mount Everest later, as I'm balancing delicately on the ice to extract the last few items from my vehicle, a big truck with a plow pulls in and a young man jumps out. "They told me to come down here and bust up your ice a bit so you could get up the drive." Don't bother, I tell him. We're finished.
Once inside, we unpack and settle in for our weekend of frivolity. We made a delicious dinner of filet mignon, broiled to perfection, spinach salad and baked potato. Nearly comatose from food, we decide this would be an excellent time for a dip in the hot tub. This is, after all, one of the main reasons we're here. Excitedly, we rip off our clothes, dig up our robes and race outside, tearing the lid off the hot tub.
The water was tepid. After searching frantically for a temperature dial, hopping from one foot to the other in hopes we don't freeze to the deck, we gave up for the night and decided to call the realty office in the morning. We weren't fit for public consumption at that point in the evening anyway.
The next morning, a maintenance man was sent to reset our hot tub and drop off a space heater, since the wall heater in the bathroom didn't work, and given that it's separated from the rest of the cabin by a closed door and another room, it was a balmy 20 degrees in there.
Fine, minor interruptions, but we carry on in good spirits.
Then, at approximately 4:30 in the afternoon, B looks out the window just in time to see a young couple walk up to the front door of our cabin and knock. If they would have been just 3 minutes earlier, this would have been quite a bit more embarrassing than it already was. Apparently, they stayed there recently and left behind their little hand-held gaming device. (Who the hell brings video games to a CABIN in the WOODS?!) They said the realty office told them there were "just cleaning people" here and they could come by to look for it. B, a bit flustered, let's them in and they're all apologies and smiles as they root through our piles of blankets and pillows strewn about. They chatter on nervously about their trip to the cabin, ("Yeah, we were just chilling on the couches when we lost it," the guy offers. "We got engaged here," the girl bubbles.) as I stand there looking, I'm sure, a bit stunned and wondering if they're going to pull out a pair of my panties from the crevices of the couch. What I wanted to say to her was, "Yeah? Well we are married. And let me tell you what happens when married people finally get what's supposed to be a private weekend to themselves..."
Instead, feeling self-conscious in B's over-sized fleece vest I'd thrown on over the skimpy sheer white tank I was wearing–braless, because that's how we married folks do it–I retreated to the second floor. Once they were gone, we just sort of stared at each other in astonished silence for a few seconds. I chose that time to call the property manager and inform her that our hot tub was still not hot and oh, by the way, total strangers just showed up at our secluded doorstep on her office's suggestion that they just drop by to look for their belongings. For this, we received merely the reassurance that our hot tub would be heated appropriately in time for use this evening and surely these people showed up on their own accord, because "no one from our office would say that." At least she seemed almost as irritated as I was about the unexpected intrusion, though a little compensation off our bill would have really sent home her tone of concern.
All this aside, we had a lovely time. Instead of sticking around the area for a little site-seeing or dilly-dallying, we drove straight home, in record time. We were surprisingly, absurdly happy to be back in our cozy, cluttered home.
We arrived at the cabin to find the driveway, which was curvy and steep, completely iced over. Unable to drive the car to the top, we were forced to unload two elderly, arthritic dogs and all of our weekend belongings at the base of the hill. Six periling trips up and down the driveway of Mount Everest later, as I'm balancing delicately on the ice to extract the last few items from my vehicle, a big truck with a plow pulls in and a young man jumps out. "They told me to come down here and bust up your ice a bit so you could get up the drive." Don't bother, I tell him. We're finished.
Once inside, we unpack and settle in for our weekend of frivolity. We made a delicious dinner of filet mignon, broiled to perfection, spinach salad and baked potato. Nearly comatose from food, we decide this would be an excellent time for a dip in the hot tub. This is, after all, one of the main reasons we're here. Excitedly, we rip off our clothes, dig up our robes and race outside, tearing the lid off the hot tub.
The water was tepid. After searching frantically for a temperature dial, hopping from one foot to the other in hopes we don't freeze to the deck, we gave up for the night and decided to call the realty office in the morning. We weren't fit for public consumption at that point in the evening anyway.
The next morning, a maintenance man was sent to reset our hot tub and drop off a space heater, since the wall heater in the bathroom didn't work, and given that it's separated from the rest of the cabin by a closed door and another room, it was a balmy 20 degrees in there.
Fine, minor interruptions, but we carry on in good spirits.
Then, at approximately 4:30 in the afternoon, B looks out the window just in time to see a young couple walk up to the front door of our cabin and knock. If they would have been just 3 minutes earlier, this would have been quite a bit more embarrassing than it already was. Apparently, they stayed there recently and left behind their little hand-held gaming device. (Who the hell brings video games to a CABIN in the WOODS?!) They said the realty office told them there were "just cleaning people" here and they could come by to look for it. B, a bit flustered, let's them in and they're all apologies and smiles as they root through our piles of blankets and pillows strewn about. They chatter on nervously about their trip to the cabin, ("Yeah, we were just chilling on the couches when we lost it," the guy offers. "We got engaged here," the girl bubbles.) as I stand there looking, I'm sure, a bit stunned and wondering if they're going to pull out a pair of my panties from the crevices of the couch. What I wanted to say to her was, "Yeah? Well we are married. And let me tell you what happens when married people finally get what's supposed to be a private weekend to themselves..."
Instead, feeling self-conscious in B's over-sized fleece vest I'd thrown on over the skimpy sheer white tank I was wearing–braless, because that's how we married folks do it–I retreated to the second floor. Once they were gone, we just sort of stared at each other in astonished silence for a few seconds. I chose that time to call the property manager and inform her that our hot tub was still not hot and oh, by the way, total strangers just showed up at our secluded doorstep on her office's suggestion that they just drop by to look for their belongings. For this, we received merely the reassurance that our hot tub would be heated appropriately in time for use this evening and surely these people showed up on their own accord, because "no one from our office would say that." At least she seemed almost as irritated as I was about the unexpected intrusion, though a little compensation off our bill would have really sent home her tone of concern.
All this aside, we had a lovely time. Instead of sticking around the area for a little site-seeing or dilly-dallying, we drove straight home, in record time. We were surprisingly, absurdly happy to be back in our cozy, cluttered home.
1.28.2008
Just got home from a little 3-day tour Sunday. I ate poorly, drank too much, slept little and had more fun than should be legal. And some of it probably wasn't. We played some great shows, made a superfan, met some fantastic people, connected with friends and even got to drink some genuine Appalachian moonshine. (It's better than you'd think, but could still probably fuel your gas tank.) It was a much needed vacation from the ordinary, and my faith in humanity has been restored. It's always hard to come back after all the fun.
Sunday, we woke up an hour past our hotel's check out time. MC was outside smoking when a member of housekeeping asked rather snootily if we had, in fact, requested a late check out. Had I been outside smoking, here's what I would have said:
"First of all, you're very rude. Secondly, I've got 6 people drunk off moonshine in there. You think I'm just gonna shake them into consciousness?"
We had to haul our gear up 3 flights of stairs and only one person was able to take a shower because the water would not drain. That was 70 dollars well spent! But what they lacked in service they made up for in food at the diner attached to the hotel. And they had THREE plasma tv screens that only showed cakes. Big cakes, of a various assortment, and lots of them. I think they call that the Stoner channel.
Speaking of fun tv channels, did you ever listen to the This American Life episode about the guy who wanted to start a channel that showed only puppies? The Puppy Channel! And studies show people are actually interested in watching puppies on tv, but they were unable to find proper funding. If you are wealthy philanthropist, I urge you to locate this man and give him your money. You won't regret it. In fact, I have a plan to bring peace to the Middle East. It involves hours of footage from the Puppy Channel and a large projector. Who wants to blow shit up when there are sweet lil' puppies around? I can see the commercial now: Me, in the desert, surrounded by puppies clumsily falling all over each other, holding one up to my tear-stained cheek, my makeup streaked, crying, "If you could just donate an inkling of your love to a puppy in need, countless lives could be saved!"
Just an idea. I'm full of 'em.
Sunday, we woke up an hour past our hotel's check out time. MC was outside smoking when a member of housekeeping asked rather snootily if we had, in fact, requested a late check out. Had I been outside smoking, here's what I would have said:
"First of all, you're very rude. Secondly, I've got 6 people drunk off moonshine in there. You think I'm just gonna shake them into consciousness?"
We had to haul our gear up 3 flights of stairs and only one person was able to take a shower because the water would not drain. That was 70 dollars well spent! But what they lacked in service they made up for in food at the diner attached to the hotel. And they had THREE plasma tv screens that only showed cakes. Big cakes, of a various assortment, and lots of them. I think they call that the Stoner channel.
Speaking of fun tv channels, did you ever listen to the This American Life episode about the guy who wanted to start a channel that showed only puppies? The Puppy Channel! And studies show people are actually interested in watching puppies on tv, but they were unable to find proper funding. If you are wealthy philanthropist, I urge you to locate this man and give him your money. You won't regret it. In fact, I have a plan to bring peace to the Middle East. It involves hours of footage from the Puppy Channel and a large projector. Who wants to blow shit up when there are sweet lil' puppies around? I can see the commercial now: Me, in the desert, surrounded by puppies clumsily falling all over each other, holding one up to my tear-stained cheek, my makeup streaked, crying, "If you could just donate an inkling of your love to a puppy in need, countless lives could be saved!"
Just an idea. I'm full of 'em.
1.16.2008
I Got Your Number
Office musings:
1. That impatient, vaguely annoyed attitude coming off you like stink? Won't get your jobs done any faster. But a little sugar could make a world of difference. Or at least an extra 15 minutes, give or take.
2. Look, I realize you're new, and before you, there weren't a whole lot of twenty-something men with reasonably good physiques and a big helping of self-confidence running around here, but when we're talking and you eyes keep drifting to my chest? Yeah, I totally notice. Not fooling anyone.
3. Just because we're coworkers, doesn't mean we're friends. Nothing personal, but outside these four walls, in my real life? I try to avoid bringing megalomaniacal, egocentric people into my fold.
1. That impatient, vaguely annoyed attitude coming off you like stink? Won't get your jobs done any faster. But a little sugar could make a world of difference. Or at least an extra 15 minutes, give or take.
2. Look, I realize you're new, and before you, there weren't a whole lot of twenty-something men with reasonably good physiques and a big helping of self-confidence running around here, but when we're talking and you eyes keep drifting to my chest? Yeah, I totally notice. Not fooling anyone.
3. Just because we're coworkers, doesn't mean we're friends. Nothing personal, but outside these four walls, in my real life? I try to avoid bringing megalomaniacal, egocentric people into my fold.
1.08.2008
Gettin' Hot In Hur
Only a mere two-and-a-half weeks ago, the Winter Solstice marked the beginning of winter in the Northern Hemisphere. In Kentuckiana*, winter means temperatures around the 30's, with the occasional rain, snow and ice. Today, January 8, it is 70 degrees outside. My husband keeps commenting on how nice the weather is. But I'm wondering how high I'll have to climb to safety when the polar ice caps melt.
*Kentuckiana, so far as I can tell, is how the locals refer to the area surrounding the border of Kentucky and Indiana. Does this happen everywhere? Because I don't hear people calling the area around Illinois and Indiana "Illiana," though that may because Gary smells like it may be solely responsible for the hole in our atmosphere. Hmm, on second thought, that'd make a great name for that area. Or what about Kentucky-O, where Ohio and Kentucky meet? That'd make a great name for a cereal. I imagine it would be a delicate balance of snooty whole grain and enough sugar to put a small mammal in a coma.
The word, "Kentuckiana," is not listed in Merriam-Webster, proving once again that we're all just making it up as we go along and attributing meaning as we see fit. Think about that the next time someone is offended by your bad language. Fuckity fuck fuck fuckity fuck. See? Just words. Didn't hurt a damn thing.
*Kentuckiana, so far as I can tell, is how the locals refer to the area surrounding the border of Kentucky and Indiana. Does this happen everywhere? Because I don't hear people calling the area around Illinois and Indiana "Illiana," though that may because Gary smells like it may be solely responsible for the hole in our atmosphere. Hmm, on second thought, that'd make a great name for that area. Or what about Kentucky-O, where Ohio and Kentucky meet? That'd make a great name for a cereal. I imagine it would be a delicate balance of snooty whole grain and enough sugar to put a small mammal in a coma.
The word, "Kentuckiana," is not listed in Merriam-Webster, proving once again that we're all just making it up as we go along and attributing meaning as we see fit. Think about that the next time someone is offended by your bad language. Fuckity fuck fuck fuckity fuck. See? Just words. Didn't hurt a damn thing.
1.02.2008
It's a New Day
I spent 2 full days last weekend tearing apart, cleaning and organizing my office/studio space. It's amazing how much shit piles up, particularly in the form of paper, over the course of a year while you are traveling, working and generally avoiding the little things that need to be done. (Because in my world, a clean house is low on the priority list. Don't like dog hair on your clothes? Don't sit on my furniture.) It feels so good to have a clean and organized workspace, though I didn't touch a single other room in my home. I find it difficult to get in my organizational super-cleaning mode, and unfortunately my momentum was impeded when I had to come into work on New Year's Eve for a half day, only to be given about an hour's worth of actual "work." Thanks for interrupting progress in my real life so that I could help limit your quota for buisness holidays. Because I'm here for YOU.
In the afternoon, we had a fun rehearsal/recording session, after which B & I found ourselves free from any New Year's Eve obligations. I was so excited about not having anything to do, I can't begin to tell you. Funny, because not so long ago I would have been geared up for a night of partying. Instead, we had ourselves a private pajama party. And you were not invited.
All of my New Year's Day dreams came true; I spent the entire day, in my pajamas, with my husband and fuzzy babies. Call me a simpleton, but I can't think of a better way to spend my time.
Hope you had a fantastic holiday and that all of your New Year's dreams came true.
In the afternoon, we had a fun rehearsal/recording session, after which B & I found ourselves free from any New Year's Eve obligations. I was so excited about not having anything to do, I can't begin to tell you. Funny, because not so long ago I would have been geared up for a night of partying. Instead, we had ourselves a private pajama party. And you were not invited.
All of my New Year's Day dreams came true; I spent the entire day, in my pajamas, with my husband and fuzzy babies. Call me a simpleton, but I can't think of a better way to spend my time.
Hope you had a fantastic holiday and that all of your New Year's dreams came true.
12.26.2007
Joy to the World...
...Christmas is over! I would like to take a moment to personally thank our sponsors, Woodford Reserve, Anderson Valley's Winter Solstice, Samuel Smith's Winter Welcome, Anchor Steam's Christmas Ale and countless other breweries who made this year's 2007 Holy Mother of Christmas Holiday bearable. It was touch-and-go for a while there, but we've crossed the finish line with nary a drop of bloodshed. Now it's on to 2008!
12.18.2007
Christmas Time Is Here
Full disclosure: I am facing what the corporate world optimistically refers to as a "challenge" when it comes to keeping a "positive attitude" about the holidays.
Friday, as I was weaving my way out of downtown through all the idiots who don't know what those silly lines in the road mean or how to use a turn signal, my brother called to say he'd be at my house earlier than expected. All I needed was ten minutes. Ten minutes – to myself – for what I like to refer to as an "attitude readjustment." In this case, it meant blowing straight past my husband as he held the door open for me upon my arrival home in a beeline for our bar. I had envisioned a bloody Mary, but I was too impatient to actually mix a drink. Two Makers on the rocks later, I was feeling a bit more relaxed, though my mental state was surly, at best. The three of us, my brother, my husband and I, planned to carpool to Indy to stay the night and attend a family Christmas party the following day.
There are a lot of nice things I could say here about spending time with family during the holidays. Some of them would even be true. But at this moment in time, I simply lacked the energy it takes to fake that I am having a ball! and really looking forward to it!
We packed up the car and headed north. My brother offered to drive, for which I was extremely grateful. I've done a lot of traveling lately, and on each trip, I am either driving or playing co-pilot. It was with great relief that I filled up my flask and piled in the backseat. By the time we reached Indy, I was feeling loose and warm, and my flask was empty.
I managed to keep my mouth shut for most of the visit, though there was a moment where I nearly lost it. A relative, who shall remain nameless, but I will tell you she is a relative by marriage, was discussing her new job as an interior designer. She was bragging about a client who just spent $30,000 on – get this – curtains.
Let me give you a minute to digest that.
Thirty THOUSAND dollars. On curtains. And before I could stop myself, I shouted, "How could you live with yourself?!" It is Christmas, for Christ's sake, a time when we're all (ok, maybe not as many people as I'd like to think) acutely aware of global poverty, and these people just spent $30,000 to cover their windows.
But I digress. All things considered, the trip was a success. The boys were all, "Well, that wasn't so bad! Things could have been way worse!" And they're right. But that didn't change the fact that immediately after we piled into our respective places in my car, I requested a stop at the nearest liquor store, where I purchased a pint of Makers and proceeded to nurse it the entire drive home.
Friday, as I was weaving my way out of downtown through all the idiots who don't know what those silly lines in the road mean or how to use a turn signal, my brother called to say he'd be at my house earlier than expected. All I needed was ten minutes. Ten minutes – to myself – for what I like to refer to as an "attitude readjustment." In this case, it meant blowing straight past my husband as he held the door open for me upon my arrival home in a beeline for our bar. I had envisioned a bloody Mary, but I was too impatient to actually mix a drink. Two Makers on the rocks later, I was feeling a bit more relaxed, though my mental state was surly, at best. The three of us, my brother, my husband and I, planned to carpool to Indy to stay the night and attend a family Christmas party the following day.
There are a lot of nice things I could say here about spending time with family during the holidays. Some of them would even be true. But at this moment in time, I simply lacked the energy it takes to fake that I am having a ball! and really looking forward to it!
We packed up the car and headed north. My brother offered to drive, for which I was extremely grateful. I've done a lot of traveling lately, and on each trip, I am either driving or playing co-pilot. It was with great relief that I filled up my flask and piled in the backseat. By the time we reached Indy, I was feeling loose and warm, and my flask was empty.
Let me give you a minute to digest that.
But I digress. All things considered, the trip was a success. The boys were all, "Well, that wasn't so bad! Things could have been way worse!" And they're right. But that didn't change the fact that immediately after we piled into our respective places in my car, I requested a stop at the nearest liquor store, where I purchased a pint of Makers and proceeded to nurse it the entire drive home.
12.04.2007
I'm a Big Kid Now
As I sit at my desk at work, drowning my frustrations of the day in chocolate, I have decided to compose two lists in an attempt to alleviate my cluttered mind. This time of year is filled with commitments and preparation for those commitments, in addition to your daily responsibilities, and I often find myself feeling guilty for all the things that I cannot do because I am too busy or too overwhelmed and instead must distract myself with sleep or television, because it is all just too much to face some days. And for reasons too long to go into, and likely unnecessary for you to know in order to relate, I equate these things to either successes or failures in my quest for adulthood. (Perhaps the bigger question is, why am I on such a quest to begin?) So list number one:
Ways in Which I Am Failing As An Adult
1. I can't remember the last time I ran a vacuum in my home, mopped a floor, cleaned a window or dusted anything.
2. I can't remember the last time I actually filed something, instead of creating yet another pile of paper on the floor.
3. I have less than $200 in my savings account.
4. Let's not even discuss what I have not saved for retirement so far.
5. The list of people who I need to visit and/or send a birthday card to is too long to list here.
Ways in Which I Am Succeeding As An Adult
1. My bills are paid.
2. I have bought approximately 1/3 of my Christmas gifts already and it's only December 4, a record for me.
3. I have actually been using my day planner and subsequently have been acutely aware of how little time I do have, which, theoretically speaking, means I'm budgeting my time.
4. I have made sleep a priority in an effort to keep my health up. (Ok, so maybe I use it as a scapegoat for getting things accomplished, but when I start thinking about all the little things that I need to do, all the clutter and disorganization physically and metaphorically, I begin to feel warm and drowsy and like my eyelids have little weights in them. And how can I face the day without the proper amount of rest?)
More on this later.
Or not.
Ways in Which I Am Failing As An Adult
1. I can't remember the last time I ran a vacuum in my home, mopped a floor, cleaned a window or dusted anything.
2. I can't remember the last time I actually filed something, instead of creating yet another pile of paper on the floor.
3. I have less than $200 in my savings account.
4. Let's not even discuss what I have not saved for retirement so far.
5. The list of people who I need to visit and/or send a birthday card to is too long to list here.
Ways in Which I Am Succeeding As An Adult
1. My bills are paid.
2. I have bought approximately 1/3 of my Christmas gifts already and it's only December 4, a record for me.
3. I have actually been using my day planner and subsequently have been acutely aware of how little time I do have, which, theoretically speaking, means I'm budgeting my time.
4. I have made sleep a priority in an effort to keep my health up. (Ok, so maybe I use it as a scapegoat for getting things accomplished, but when I start thinking about all the little things that I need to do, all the clutter and disorganization physically and metaphorically, I begin to feel warm and drowsy and like my eyelids have little weights in them. And how can I face the day without the proper amount of rest?)
Or not.
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