1) Since I've started running A/V on Sunday mornings, one part of my job is to add in new announcement slides that run before the services begin. Usually we just use a plain blue background for the announcements, but if here is some kind of special event taking place, I try to find a background that fits the "theme." The other day I had to make a slide to remind everyone about the sign up sheet in the lobby, for people who would be bringing a cake for the fall festival cake-walk. I couldn't find a background I liked very much, so I used Google image search to find something and managed to find a big, high-res still of the infamous cake from the game Portal that I could turn into a slide. I thought it would be funny, but absolutely no one has a clue what it is from. :(
2) I felt like such an idiot yesterday. I don't want to go into much detail, because I know it won't make sense to any of you even if I tried. Suffice it to say that I mistook a statement about one person to be about another person, and made a comment that made zero sense to the man I was talking to. Instead of taking the obviously acceptable chance to just say "Oh, my bad, I thought you were talking about someone else," I tried to play it off, and only made myself sound more insane. I honestly really did try and correct myself, but I don't know why I didn't just admit I thought they were talking about someone else. It was like my brain refused to consider it! I'm fairly certain the man I was talking to thinks I'm a lunatic, and I don't blame him a bit.
3) We had a meal after church, and I took on the job of washing dishes. I swear to you, I washed like 20 sharp, serrated steak knives and I didn't even nick myself. Then I picked up a plastic butter knife to cut a roll in half and sliced a gash in my hand. How does that even happen?
4) I suppose you saw from my last post that I do not like going into public places with my computer. Actually, since I've had time to think about it, I don't think I'd mind so much if I were alone, or doing some kind of work. I just don't like doing that when there is a person with me. It feels rude.
5) I finally got to see Scream 4, and it was so much fun! I know those movies aren't much more than your average slasher flicks, but I still enjoy them. They're silly. In fact, I enjoy most screamy slasher movies, as long as they don't veer off into gross, torture-porn territory. Only one thing about these particular movies really bothers me. The movies are very tongue-in-cheek, very meta, and making fun of horror movie tropes in general and I get that. The killers use stuff that they learned from watching scary movies to commit crimes that they think can be blamed on other people, because they've "Thought Of Everything!" But if we imagine these things happened in real life...there is no way the people they are setting up to be blamed for the crimes would be found guilty. Forensics, even your everyday, non-CSI-type forensics, would work against them. Even if the actual killers couldn't be found, the people set up to take the fall would probably be eliminated, simply due to bullet wound entries, knife slashes, DNA evidence, and etc. The ghost-face killers may watch a lot of scary movies to figure out how to kill people, but it's obvious that they don't watch a lot of true-crime TV to figure out what NOT to do in a murdery situation.
Aaaaaaaaand, I've officially thought too hard about it.
Monday, October 17, 2011
Saturday, October 15, 2011
SURE...WHY NOT.
So, I'm currently sitting in a Starbucks, with my iPad, not talking to Steve (who's on his laptop), and mothra-freaking blogging. Does that make me a pretentious hipster? I think it does. I'd like to apologize to everyone I know.
Ok, well, maybe not a hipster. But this strikes me as sad, to be sitting across from someone and ignoring them. I have the insane urge to reach over and start poking Steve in the forehead repeatedly so that we can at least have a little interaction.
Things I'm Thinking:
I don't like the new Starbucks logo. I know that the brand is ubiquitous and everyone knows them simply by the logo, but to have a logo with no company name smacks of hubris. Like they are the business version of Cher or Madonna. Strangely, I don't feel that way about other companies like Nike.
The salted caramel hot chocolate is delicious. They sprinkle big grains of salt on top of the whipped cream and it is awesome.
I'm only writing this so I don't look sad, sitting here not talking to anyone. Right now I'm socially-awkward penguin.
Yay, Steve just talked to me. The large group of friends who are over there having fun and having conversations don't have to feel sorry for us anymore!
If I am going to successfully look aloof, I should have worn one of my scarves. It's easier to be aloof while wearing a scarf.
Now Steve is describing Memes to me. It loses something when you can't see the picture.
Sorry to sound all complainy. I'm just uncomfortable playing with my computer toys in public. It makes me feel like I'm showing off.
Hey, they painted over the awesome mural. Boo! It was weird, but I liked it! Well, the green is nice too, but still...
I'm going to stop now and play a game.
Ok, well, maybe not a hipster. But this strikes me as sad, to be sitting across from someone and ignoring them. I have the insane urge to reach over and start poking Steve in the forehead repeatedly so that we can at least have a little interaction.
Things I'm Thinking:
I don't like the new Starbucks logo. I know that the brand is ubiquitous and everyone knows them simply by the logo, but to have a logo with no company name smacks of hubris. Like they are the business version of Cher or Madonna. Strangely, I don't feel that way about other companies like Nike.
The salted caramel hot chocolate is delicious. They sprinkle big grains of salt on top of the whipped cream and it is awesome.
I'm only writing this so I don't look sad, sitting here not talking to anyone. Right now I'm socially-awkward penguin.
Yay, Steve just talked to me. The large group of friends who are over there having fun and having conversations don't have to feel sorry for us anymore!
If I am going to successfully look aloof, I should have worn one of my scarves. It's easier to be aloof while wearing a scarf.
Now Steve is describing Memes to me. It loses something when you can't see the picture.
Sorry to sound all complainy. I'm just uncomfortable playing with my computer toys in public. It makes me feel like I'm showing off.
Hey, they painted over the awesome mural. Boo! It was weird, but I liked it! Well, the green is nice too, but still...
I'm going to stop now and play a game.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING
1) You know how in my last post I told you about the new cookbook I got at Peach Park, and how I hoped it wouldn't have an actual recipe for possum in it? Well, it does. It also tells how to catch, kill and burn the fur off of them before you eat them. I died a little inside.
Oh, and as for the peach cider I got at the same place, it was so very, very sweet. It wasn't bad, but I think it would be better if mixed with something to cut the sweetness a bit. You could have poured it over pancakes! Ooooooh, that would have been good...
2) Raise your hand if you like over-reactions? Heehee. Don't ask me how I came across this train wreck of an article, but it has to do with those "Happy Family" stickers that a lot of people have on the backs of their cars. You know the ones, the mommy-daddy-kids-pets stickers in various themes that basically tell every stranger who sees your car how your family is made up? I've heard of them referred to as "pedophile menus." Anyway, someone wrote what I'm sure was intended to be some kind of sociological statement piece about family hierarchy, and it just came across as a little silly, in my opinion. Actually, the article aside, it is the comment section that really made me roll my eyes. Really? People get their panties in a bunch because the male figures are depicted as being taller than the female figures? Geez. Some people...
Oh, and as for some of the comments about how you don't see homosexual couples with kids depicted on these stickers, that is untrue. I saw a two daddy car the other day!
3) This has to be one of the funniest Flickr photo streams ever! You may have heard about this already, but in case you haven't, please go click through this. Apparently there is a haunted house somewhere near Niagra Falls called The Nightmare Fear Factory. Part of the attraction catches people off guard with bright lights and some kind of jump-scare where their pictures are taken, kind of in the same vein as roller coaster photos. Whatever the scare is, it must be bad, because these people look terrified and the resulting pictures are hilarious. Steve and I laughed until we cried over some of these. If you're having a bad day and need a laugh, please take a look. It'll make you feel so much better!
4) You know, I've never been to Wisconsin.
5) My allergies are kicking my butt right now. I wish I knew what kind of thing was blooming or dying at this time of year so I could destroy it, because it never fails that when fall comes my sinuses shut down and try to murder me. It's been that way for years. I can deal with the stuffy nose bit, but the headaches are what get to me. Blarg, headaches.
6) Yesterday I got out the Sodastream maker and set about making a bottle of soda. I know that it might seem to be a silly thing to own, but if you consider how much soda we drink, you'd know it's paid for itself many times over. Anyway, I bought a bottle of tonic water flavoring, because I like drinking tonic water with lime, and I thought that it would be more economical to just use our machine to make it rather than buy it. We don't normally use the mixes from the Sodastream company, we use fruit juice or something of the like. My problem with the Sodastream flavorings, which I think I've mentioned before, is that they use a mixture of sugar and artificial sweeteners - and the result is that the mix often has that bitter, artificial taste that some diet drinks have. I didn't think that it would be a problem with tonic water, though, because it is already kind of bitter and wangy, albeit in a pleasant way. However, since I don't know how to mix quinine into something drinkable, I thought the mix would be ok. Well, I made the bottle of soda and put it in the fridge to get cold, and then I had the brilliant idea to taste the concentrated flavoring to see what it was like.
Oh, dear Lord in heaven, it was foul. All I did was dip my fingertip in the bottle and touch it to my tongue, and I think my whole head tried to turn itself inside out. It was bitter and sour, and the taste of the artificial sweetener that I dislike so much was turned up to 11. Not only was the concentrate disgusting, the taste stuck in my mouth and I couldn't get rid of it. I could have gone outside and licked the dog, and still tasted that yuck in my mouth. Of course, since that happened, I can't bring myself to drink the diluted tonic water that I made. Although the soda itself would be lighter and not anywhere as bitter, and the artificial sweetness would have been way less noticeable, just the thought of it right now makes me gag. So much for being economical.
Oh, and as for the peach cider I got at the same place, it was so very, very sweet. It wasn't bad, but I think it would be better if mixed with something to cut the sweetness a bit. You could have poured it over pancakes! Ooooooh, that would have been good...
2) Raise your hand if you like over-reactions? Heehee. Don't ask me how I came across this train wreck of an article, but it has to do with those "Happy Family" stickers that a lot of people have on the backs of their cars. You know the ones, the mommy-daddy-kids-pets stickers in various themes that basically tell every stranger who sees your car how your family is made up? I've heard of them referred to as "pedophile menus." Anyway, someone wrote what I'm sure was intended to be some kind of sociological statement piece about family hierarchy, and it just came across as a little silly, in my opinion. Actually, the article aside, it is the comment section that really made me roll my eyes. Really? People get their panties in a bunch because the male figures are depicted as being taller than the female figures? Geez. Some people...
Oh, and as for some of the comments about how you don't see homosexual couples with kids depicted on these stickers, that is untrue. I saw a two daddy car the other day!
3) This has to be one of the funniest Flickr photo streams ever! You may have heard about this already, but in case you haven't, please go click through this. Apparently there is a haunted house somewhere near Niagra Falls called The Nightmare Fear Factory. Part of the attraction catches people off guard with bright lights and some kind of jump-scare where their pictures are taken, kind of in the same vein as roller coaster photos. Whatever the scare is, it must be bad, because these people look terrified and the resulting pictures are hilarious. Steve and I laughed until we cried over some of these. If you're having a bad day and need a laugh, please take a look. It'll make you feel so much better!
4) You know, I've never been to Wisconsin.
5) My allergies are kicking my butt right now. I wish I knew what kind of thing was blooming or dying at this time of year so I could destroy it, because it never fails that when fall comes my sinuses shut down and try to murder me. It's been that way for years. I can deal with the stuffy nose bit, but the headaches are what get to me. Blarg, headaches.
6) Yesterday I got out the Sodastream maker and set about making a bottle of soda. I know that it might seem to be a silly thing to own, but if you consider how much soda we drink, you'd know it's paid for itself many times over. Anyway, I bought a bottle of tonic water flavoring, because I like drinking tonic water with lime, and I thought that it would be more economical to just use our machine to make it rather than buy it. We don't normally use the mixes from the Sodastream company, we use fruit juice or something of the like. My problem with the Sodastream flavorings, which I think I've mentioned before, is that they use a mixture of sugar and artificial sweeteners - and the result is that the mix often has that bitter, artificial taste that some diet drinks have. I didn't think that it would be a problem with tonic water, though, because it is already kind of bitter and wangy, albeit in a pleasant way. However, since I don't know how to mix quinine into something drinkable, I thought the mix would be ok. Well, I made the bottle of soda and put it in the fridge to get cold, and then I had the brilliant idea to taste the concentrated flavoring to see what it was like.
Oh, dear Lord in heaven, it was foul. All I did was dip my fingertip in the bottle and touch it to my tongue, and I think my whole head tried to turn itself inside out. It was bitter and sour, and the taste of the artificial sweetener that I dislike so much was turned up to 11. Not only was the concentrate disgusting, the taste stuck in my mouth and I couldn't get rid of it. I could have gone outside and licked the dog, and still tasted that yuck in my mouth. Of course, since that happened, I can't bring myself to drink the diluted tonic water that I made. Although the soda itself would be lighter and not anywhere as bitter, and the artificial sweetness would have been way less noticeable, just the thought of it right now makes me gag. So much for being economical.
Friday, October 07, 2011
BLOGGED ALONG THE WAY - Beach Bum Edition
October 3, 2011
Today was our "travel back" day and I was very sad to leave Destin. Actually, Destin - Shmestin, I was sad to leave the beach, but the city was nice, too.
We ate at the hotel for breakfast one more time before we headed out and let Jeepus lead us home.
Nothing too exciting happened as we drove back, sadly, and I kept dozing off. Well, almost dozing off, but I tried to stay awake so Steve would have someone to talk to. You know, in case he ever started talking. Heehee.
Probably the only interesting spot on the whole ride back was stopping briefly at Peach Park in Clanton, AL.
TANGENT: Did you know that Clanton is the peach capital of Alabama? It also has a water tower shaped like a peach. In your FACE, Georgia!* :)
Today was our "travel back" day and I was very sad to leave Destin. Actually, Destin - Shmestin, I was sad to leave the beach, but the city was nice, too.
We ate at the hotel for breakfast one more time before we headed out and let Jeepus lead us home.
Nothing too exciting happened as we drove back, sadly, and I kept dozing off. Well, almost dozing off, but I tried to stay awake so Steve would have someone to talk to. You know, in case he ever started talking. Heehee.
Probably the only interesting spot on the whole ride back was stopping briefly at Peach Park in Clanton, AL.
TANGENT: Did you know that Clanton is the peach capital of Alabama? It also has a water tower shaped like a peach. In your FACE, Georgia!* :)
Millions of peaches, peaches for me...
I'd been there once before, a really long time ago, with a very, very dear friend of mine. However, it was closed when we visited it so this was the first time I'd ever actually gone in. It's sort of like a farmer's market / tourist stop / restaurant where they have all kinds of fun stuff, plus rocking chairs outside to rest in. We didn't stay long, and unfortunately we didn't try the peach ice cream (which I hear is boss) but we did purchase some Fuzzy Navel Jelly (not as gross as it sounds), Peach and Scuppernong Cider (which we have yet to try) and a cookbook for my collection called "Possum & Sweet Potatoes." I haven't looked into the book to read the recipes yet, but I sincerely hope there are no recipes for actual possums in there. I may be southern, but I don't think I could handle that.
At any rate, after that we got back on the road and made it home in time to pick up the dogs and get settled in before dinner time.
We had a great trip, although it was too short for me!
*I actually love Georgia, as some of my favorite people live there. Please don't be offended. That being said...still...in your face, Georgia.
Wednesday, October 05, 2011
BLOGGED ALONG THE WAY - Beach Bum Edition
This morning I learned a bit more about our hotel neighbors. As I was standing at the sink doing morning stuff, I could hear them through the infernal connecting door. There are three kids instead of one, and Gavin is not the baby. Apparently he's the oldest of three, Gavin, Grace, and Grey, who is actually the baby. Since the parents spent a great deal of time fussing at the two older kids and telling them "NO!", I'm going to assume that baby Grey cried for so long yesterday because Gavin and Grace stood around him and poked him with sticks. Question: why do people name their kids soap opera names? Also, why do they all have "g" names? Maybe it was so they didn't have to buy new monogrammed baby stuff. Who knows? I want to clarify that I wasn't pressing my ear to the door to hear any of this info, I was brushing my teeth. So think about that the next time you've got a connecting door to another room in your hotel. Be careful what you say, or someone may go home and blog about you! :)
Enough about that. I left Steve asleep and walked down to the beach to walk around for a while and pick up shells. It was just as gorgeous as yesterday. Seriously, the weather couldn't have been more perfect if I had ordered it from a catalog. It was cool, but the sun was bright and the water was warm. The only dark spots were the giant jellyfish that had washed up on the beach and were floating in the shallow pools. I mean, they weren't Sy-Fy original movie big, but they were still very large. I had to be very careful not to step on them when i was wading in the water or walking along the edge of the water. You couldn't see them until you were almost right on top of them, so....yikes.
We went to breakfast in the hotel restaurant, and if your curious whatever happened to Andy Dick, he apparently grew a goatee and is now the host at the resort. :)
We had planned to go out and do many things today, but ultimately we decided that we just wanted to relax. We rented a couple of chairs and an umbrella, and we stared at the ocean for a few hours. It was lovely. When we left the beach, we went to the pool for a while. It was actually really too cool to swim, but I got in the pool anyway. The water was so cold it hurt. I thought it would get warmer, but it really didn't. I finally had to get out, and that was even colder! It was fun, though.
Unfortunately, when we got back to the room, both Steve and I realized we had gotten just a bit more sun than we had realized. Even though we had drenched Steve in sun block, he was fried. Oy, he was so very, very burnt. He just recently stopped taking some medication that makes his skin very sun sensitive, and we thought that he'd been off of it long enough to be safe, but even though he had been under an umbrella and mostly out of the sun, AND covered in sunscreen, he was toasted. Me...I was just stupid. I was so busy making sure Steve had on enough, I didn't put enough sun block on myself. Plus I didn't think my legs would burn. I have no idea why I thought that, because I've had bad sunburns on my legs in the past (that I didn't remember until staring down at my bright red knees.) OH, and my face was burnt as well, but not everywhere. I have bangs and a pair of giant sun glasses, so the top half of my face is fine, but the rest is bright red. Sexy! So Steve was in agony, and my legs and face were on fire. Good times!
We didn't feel like going anywhere else, so we had dinner at the hotel restaurant and it almost killed us. It wasn't that we ate too much, but everything they serve in that place was so heavy and rich that we got sleepy, so we came back to the room and ended the day by watching television and trying not to let anything hurt our sunburns.
Wow, I go all summer not getting sunburned, but October rolls around and I get one. Nice!
Enough about that. I left Steve asleep and walked down to the beach to walk around for a while and pick up shells. It was just as gorgeous as yesterday. Seriously, the weather couldn't have been more perfect if I had ordered it from a catalog. It was cool, but the sun was bright and the water was warm. The only dark spots were the giant jellyfish that had washed up on the beach and were floating in the shallow pools. I mean, they weren't Sy-Fy original movie big, but they were still very large. I had to be very careful not to step on them when i was wading in the water or walking along the edge of the water. You couldn't see them until you were almost right on top of them, so....yikes.
We went to breakfast in the hotel restaurant, and if your curious whatever happened to Andy Dick, he apparently grew a goatee and is now the host at the resort. :)
We had planned to go out and do many things today, but ultimately we decided that we just wanted to relax. We rented a couple of chairs and an umbrella, and we stared at the ocean for a few hours. It was lovely. When we left the beach, we went to the pool for a while. It was actually really too cool to swim, but I got in the pool anyway. The water was so cold it hurt. I thought it would get warmer, but it really didn't. I finally had to get out, and that was even colder! It was fun, though.
Unfortunately, when we got back to the room, both Steve and I realized we had gotten just a bit more sun than we had realized. Even though we had drenched Steve in sun block, he was fried. Oy, he was so very, very burnt. He just recently stopped taking some medication that makes his skin very sun sensitive, and we thought that he'd been off of it long enough to be safe, but even though he had been under an umbrella and mostly out of the sun, AND covered in sunscreen, he was toasted. Me...I was just stupid. I was so busy making sure Steve had on enough, I didn't put enough sun block on myself. Plus I didn't think my legs would burn. I have no idea why I thought that, because I've had bad sunburns on my legs in the past (that I didn't remember until staring down at my bright red knees.) OH, and my face was burnt as well, but not everywhere. I have bangs and a pair of giant sun glasses, so the top half of my face is fine, but the rest is bright red. Sexy! So Steve was in agony, and my legs and face were on fire. Good times!
We didn't feel like going anywhere else, so we had dinner at the hotel restaurant and it almost killed us. It wasn't that we ate too much, but everything they serve in that place was so heavy and rich that we got sleepy, so we came back to the room and ended the day by watching television and trying not to let anything hurt our sunburns.
Wow, I go all summer not getting sunburned, but October rolls around and I get one. Nice!
Tuesday, October 04, 2011
BLOGGED ALONG THE WAY - Beach Bum Edition
October 1, 2011
I woke up this morning to the sound of a baby crying. Wha? Yeah, I had no idea where it was coming from, but it was incessant. I was looking under furniture and checking in the closet, but I never found the baby. Heh. Actually, the kid was in the room next to ours (the two suites share a connecting door) and so we could hear him through that. It wasn't loud, but unless that kid was being attacked by an army of angry crawfish, I have no idea what was wrong with him.
But he wasn't my kid, so I ignored him and went about my morning.
I walked out on the balcony and watched the beautiful sunrise over the water. I love the ocean so much! I have seen mountains, deserts and prairie, and nothing I've seen so far matches up to the seaside for me. One day I will have a home on the beach if I can, I hope. Steve and I walked downstairs to walk on the sand and it was so nice. It was warm and gorgeous. I like to look for shells first thing in the morning before the best ones are gathered by someone else, but there were hardly any out there. The sand is sugar white and very fine, and where we are the water is very shallow and there are hardly any waves. I've seriously never seen ocean that calm along a shoreline except when we were in Key West. It's just gorgeous.
After a while of puttering around outside, we came back upstairs and got ready to have breakfast. That kid was still crying, by the way. I was starting to worry about him, because we had been gone a while and that just seemed like a long time for a kid to cry like that.
After breakfast, Steve and I decided to go shopping while we waited for the day to warm up a bit more. We had a great time going to different places in town. We also stopped at a thrift store near our hotel, just to see what a thrift store in a town full of wealthy residents would have in it. Let me tell you, if you want some awesome furniture at insanely low prices...find the nearest resort town and hit up their thrift store. There is so much we would have gotten if we could have managed it!
When we got back, we changed and headed down to the beach. I donned my new muumuu over my suit and prepared myself to be in public. I think I've mentioned before how nice it is to go to the beach, because it never fails that no matter how bad you think you look in your suit, someone else comes along who looks worse and so you don't feel so bad. Well, today, I got to be the person who made everyone else feel better. I'm not just saying that, either. It was like Baywatch out there, and then there was me. Oy. So many gorgeous women in perfect bikini shape...it was mortifying. Whatever. I sucked it up and owned it, y'all, because sometimes it's just what you have to do. Besides, no one was paying any attention! :).
Tangent - DOLPHINS!!!!!!!!!
Steve and I got into the water, but it was hard to get used to. The water wasn't cold, but the air above it was cool, so we had to inch our way in. When we'd finally gotten out aways, we were surrounded by fish. Not teeny fish, either, but five or six inch silver fish with yellow fins. At first I thought it was funny, because they kept nibbling Steve's feet, but after Steve went back to the towels, they really started swarming around me. I was sitting in the water trying to shoo them away, but they wouldn't go! I probably looked insane shouting at the water, telling the unseen-by-others critters to go away, but I was starting to get nervous. I was fine until they started nipping at me, and the I got out of the water. Honestly, I expected to have dozens of tiny fish-hickies on my legs, but luckily I was unscathed. I decided to lie on my towel and dry off for a while, so I just lay there like a lump in the sun, loving every minute. Steve had gone back to the room, and it was only after I had lain there a while that I remembered that I am so rarely out in the sun that it wouldn't be too smart to stay out much longer, so I came back to the room. When I got back, that kid was crying again, or possibly still crying. I was seriously worried about him by that point. What if he was alone in there? I mean, maybe his parents were the type who go on vacation, throw the kid into a playpen with a bottle and turn on the tv, leaving him alone so they could go play golf or something. I went as far as lying down on the floor by the connecting door to listen and see if anyone else was in the room, and thankfully I heard a woman come by and tell "Gavin" that he needed a nap. A nap, hell, that kid needed a Percocet. Personally, I think he cried so much because he suddenly realized his parents had named him Gavin.
We got cleaned up and went back out again. We went to Fudpucker's to eat, and I'm fairly certain the food there made me sick. I don't mean it was spoiled or anything like that, but something in my lunch made me very sick to my stomach. There are certain types of oils or spices that do that to me, so I guess I'm allergic, but since I don't know specifically what they are, I can't avoid them. Anyways, I at least managed to leave the restaurant without hurling in the alligator tank, so queasiness aside, I'd call that a win! Luckily, I started feel a bit better after a while, so we stopped by the outlet mall! Steve found a lot of great clothes for himself, which I'm glad about, but I guess I'm too fat to buy clothes in Destin because I couldn't find a darn thing in my size at any of the stores we went into. Actually, the same thing could be said about almost every store I have been into in this town so far. That isn't an exaggeration. I can't find clothes in my size anywhere that I have checked so far except for maybe the Under Armor outlet, and I'm not 100% certain that my work out pants will fit because I didn't try them on first. Oh well... I guess I'm just too bodacious for this town! :)
We shopped in the outlets for a while and came back to the hotel for a late dinner. We've been trying to stay quiet so as not to wake up Gavin, and either he finally came to terms with his name, or his parents have drugged him, because we haven't heard crying since we've been back.
So far we are having a great time!
I woke up this morning to the sound of a baby crying. Wha? Yeah, I had no idea where it was coming from, but it was incessant. I was looking under furniture and checking in the closet, but I never found the baby. Heh. Actually, the kid was in the room next to ours (the two suites share a connecting door) and so we could hear him through that. It wasn't loud, but unless that kid was being attacked by an army of angry crawfish, I have no idea what was wrong with him.
But he wasn't my kid, so I ignored him and went about my morning.
I walked out on the balcony and watched the beautiful sunrise over the water. I love the ocean so much! I have seen mountains, deserts and prairie, and nothing I've seen so far matches up to the seaside for me. One day I will have a home on the beach if I can, I hope. Steve and I walked downstairs to walk on the sand and it was so nice. It was warm and gorgeous. I like to look for shells first thing in the morning before the best ones are gathered by someone else, but there were hardly any out there. The sand is sugar white and very fine, and where we are the water is very shallow and there are hardly any waves. I've seriously never seen ocean that calm along a shoreline except when we were in Key West. It's just gorgeous.
After a while of puttering around outside, we came back upstairs and got ready to have breakfast. That kid was still crying, by the way. I was starting to worry about him, because we had been gone a while and that just seemed like a long time for a kid to cry like that.
After breakfast, Steve and I decided to go shopping while we waited for the day to warm up a bit more. We had a great time going to different places in town. We also stopped at a thrift store near our hotel, just to see what a thrift store in a town full of wealthy residents would have in it. Let me tell you, if you want some awesome furniture at insanely low prices...find the nearest resort town and hit up their thrift store. There is so much we would have gotten if we could have managed it!
When we got back, we changed and headed down to the beach. I donned my new muumuu over my suit and prepared myself to be in public. I think I've mentioned before how nice it is to go to the beach, because it never fails that no matter how bad you think you look in your suit, someone else comes along who looks worse and so you don't feel so bad. Well, today, I got to be the person who made everyone else feel better. I'm not just saying that, either. It was like Baywatch out there, and then there was me. Oy. So many gorgeous women in perfect bikini shape...it was mortifying. Whatever. I sucked it up and owned it, y'all, because sometimes it's just what you have to do. Besides, no one was paying any attention! :).
Tangent - DOLPHINS!!!!!!!!!
Steve and I got into the water, but it was hard to get used to. The water wasn't cold, but the air above it was cool, so we had to inch our way in. When we'd finally gotten out aways, we were surrounded by fish. Not teeny fish, either, but five or six inch silver fish with yellow fins. At first I thought it was funny, because they kept nibbling Steve's feet, but after Steve went back to the towels, they really started swarming around me. I was sitting in the water trying to shoo them away, but they wouldn't go! I probably looked insane shouting at the water, telling the unseen-by-others critters to go away, but I was starting to get nervous. I was fine until they started nipping at me, and the I got out of the water. Honestly, I expected to have dozens of tiny fish-hickies on my legs, but luckily I was unscathed. I decided to lie on my towel and dry off for a while, so I just lay there like a lump in the sun, loving every minute. Steve had gone back to the room, and it was only after I had lain there a while that I remembered that I am so rarely out in the sun that it wouldn't be too smart to stay out much longer, so I came back to the room. When I got back, that kid was crying again, or possibly still crying. I was seriously worried about him by that point. What if he was alone in there? I mean, maybe his parents were the type who go on vacation, throw the kid into a playpen with a bottle and turn on the tv, leaving him alone so they could go play golf or something. I went as far as lying down on the floor by the connecting door to listen and see if anyone else was in the room, and thankfully I heard a woman come by and tell "Gavin" that he needed a nap. A nap, hell, that kid needed a Percocet. Personally, I think he cried so much because he suddenly realized his parents had named him Gavin.
We got cleaned up and went back out again. We went to Fudpucker's to eat, and I'm fairly certain the food there made me sick. I don't mean it was spoiled or anything like that, but something in my lunch made me very sick to my stomach. There are certain types of oils or spices that do that to me, so I guess I'm allergic, but since I don't know specifically what they are, I can't avoid them. Anyways, I at least managed to leave the restaurant without hurling in the alligator tank, so queasiness aside, I'd call that a win! Luckily, I started feel a bit better after a while, so we stopped by the outlet mall! Steve found a lot of great clothes for himself, which I'm glad about, but I guess I'm too fat to buy clothes in Destin because I couldn't find a darn thing in my size at any of the stores we went into. Actually, the same thing could be said about almost every store I have been into in this town so far. That isn't an exaggeration. I can't find clothes in my size anywhere that I have checked so far except for maybe the Under Armor outlet, and I'm not 100% certain that my work out pants will fit because I didn't try them on first. Oh well... I guess I'm just too bodacious for this town! :)
We shopped in the outlets for a while and came back to the hotel for a late dinner. We've been trying to stay quiet so as not to wake up Gavin, and either he finally came to terms with his name, or his parents have drugged him, because we haven't heard crying since we've been back.
So far we are having a great time!
BLOGGED ALONG THE WAY - Beach Bum Edition
September 30, 2011
Oh, I've been waiting on a beach vacation for so long. I suppose that sounds ridiculous when you consider all the places I've been this year, but none of the trips I've taken thus far can be considered relaxing. Steve surprised me a few weeks ago by making reservations at the Hilton Sandestin Resort down in Florida! He had been to Destin before while on a work trip, and he decided that he'd like to see what it was like to visit it in a less official capacity! Onward!
We actually started off much later in the day than we had anticipated. For some reason, the alarm didn't wake us up as early as we hoped, but we were still able to wrangle the mutts into their harnesses and get them off to the boarding place before 8:00 am! We didn't have any biting incidents this time, so that was good. After that, we had to finish packing and get ready to leave, but we didn't manage to actually get out of the house until about 10:15, which sucked, because it is a six hour drive to Destin from home, and I was afraid we would get there too late to do anything. After we finally got on the road, we actually made pretty good time. We did have a bad moment when we came very close to getting trapped in a homecoming parade in a place called Brewton (I think), but we managed to just miss it. Of course, had we wound up in it, I planned to smile and wave until we made it to the end. :) We finally made it out of there and began passing through some rather creepy places. Don't get me wrong, I don't mean the places were decrepit or scary, but they all had a very empty, "everyone-could-be-dead-and-no-one-would-ever-know" feeling about them. It was like being in one of those movies where you have to stop at a normal looking house and ask for directions, only to have at least three of your traveling companions eaten by something gruesome that lives in the barn behind it. Luckily, we had a GPS, so we didn't have to stop.
Tangent - Did you know that a town called Castleberry is the strawberry capital of Alabama? Now you do!
It took us until about 4:45pm to reach our hotel and good grief was it fancy, much more so than either of us expected. Apparently there had been a major refurbishing done very recently. There was a guard at the entrance who had to give us a parking pass, and he asked our last name, which Steve gave him. Then the guard asked how it was spelled, and Steve spelled it out for him. It's important to know that Steve didn't mumble or whisper while he was spelling our last name, but still, when the guard gave us the pass, it said we were Mr. and Mrs. Perpe. Oh, well, we decided that it should be pronounced "per-pay" so that it didn't sound common. :) We managed to dodge the valet parking guys, because I have an irrational fear of them, and got our things together to get checked in. Luckily, we had both packed light (I'm finally learning how) and walked in. The hotel is gorgeous, and I had a bad moment of feeling out of place (like one of the Beverly Hillbillies) but after I saw a lady wearing the same outfit I had on -although I'm sure hers was much more expensive, ha! - I felt better.
Believe it or not, I didn't set foot on the beach at all the first day, but mainly it was because of timing. We were both hungry after taking our stuff to the room, and so we set out to find some food. We had dinner at a place called The Black Pearl, which was very good, and after leaving we went on a wild goose chase to find a bathing suit cover up for me, because I'd forgotten to pack one. There were some for sale in the hotel shop, but I couldn't imagine paying that much for something that was basically going to get wet, so we thought we'd hit up one of the local surf shops and find something a bit more reasonable. It was a tough job, though, because if you aren't a teeny tiny teenager, or a maw-maw, there is nothing out there. Everything was either way too small or a muumuu. Ugh. We had to go to three or four different places before I found anything I would wear, but I'm still not happy with it. I had to go the muumuu route, because - no joke - everything else was way, way too small. I'm not thin by any means, but I'm not so crazy big that I can't find clothes for myself. But in this town, you'd think I was the circus fat lady or something. It was frustrating!!!! I wouldn't have even bothered looking for anything, but unfortunately, the hotel has a dress code, and you have to wear something over your swim suit while in the lobby. Granted, I guess I could have worn my street clothes over my suit, but I didn't want to get them sandy and wet because packing light means not having replacements!
When we got onto our floor, we tried to find a vending machine for some drinks, but the one on our floor had been removed. Steve had to go up two floors before he found one, and I think I know why they are so hard to find. I found a mini-bar hidden in the television stand and the cans of soda inside were $3.25 apiece! I suppose they want you to get frustrated when you couldn't find the vending machine and buy the ones in the mini-bar instead. Yikes. No thanks. The vending machine ones were still more expensive than normal, but not as much as the ones in the mini-bar. I'm not at all bad-mouthing this hotel or anything, so please don't think that, but geez, everything was so flapping expensive.
We heard a couple arguing in one of the nearby rooms, but we never figured out why. It got pretty bad, though. Too bad we didn't hear what the fight was about. Aside from just being nosey, if one of them flings the other off the balcony, it would be nice to be able to tell the police why! :)
Oh, and you know how I said I had earned to pack light? Well, I think I did too good of a job, because when I was unpacking tonight I realized that I forgot some of my clothes! I should have enough to see me through the weekend, but I'd better not spill anything on myself or fall into the gulf, or I'll end up having to wear my new muumuu home!
Oh, I've been waiting on a beach vacation for so long. I suppose that sounds ridiculous when you consider all the places I've been this year, but none of the trips I've taken thus far can be considered relaxing. Steve surprised me a few weeks ago by making reservations at the Hilton Sandestin Resort down in Florida! He had been to Destin before while on a work trip, and he decided that he'd like to see what it was like to visit it in a less official capacity! Onward!
We actually started off much later in the day than we had anticipated. For some reason, the alarm didn't wake us up as early as we hoped, but we were still able to wrangle the mutts into their harnesses and get them off to the boarding place before 8:00 am! We didn't have any biting incidents this time, so that was good. After that, we had to finish packing and get ready to leave, but we didn't manage to actually get out of the house until about 10:15, which sucked, because it is a six hour drive to Destin from home, and I was afraid we would get there too late to do anything. After we finally got on the road, we actually made pretty good time. We did have a bad moment when we came very close to getting trapped in a homecoming parade in a place called Brewton (I think), but we managed to just miss it. Of course, had we wound up in it, I planned to smile and wave until we made it to the end. :) We finally made it out of there and began passing through some rather creepy places. Don't get me wrong, I don't mean the places were decrepit or scary, but they all had a very empty, "everyone-could-be-dead-and-no-one-would-ever-know" feeling about them. It was like being in one of those movies where you have to stop at a normal looking house and ask for directions, only to have at least three of your traveling companions eaten by something gruesome that lives in the barn behind it. Luckily, we had a GPS, so we didn't have to stop.
Tangent - Did you know that a town called Castleberry is the strawberry capital of Alabama? Now you do!
It took us until about 4:45pm to reach our hotel and good grief was it fancy, much more so than either of us expected. Apparently there had been a major refurbishing done very recently. There was a guard at the entrance who had to give us a parking pass, and he asked our last name, which Steve gave him. Then the guard asked how it was spelled, and Steve spelled it out for him. It's important to know that Steve didn't mumble or whisper while he was spelling our last name, but still, when the guard gave us the pass, it said we were Mr. and Mrs. Perpe. Oh, well, we decided that it should be pronounced "per-pay" so that it didn't sound common. :) We managed to dodge the valet parking guys, because I have an irrational fear of them, and got our things together to get checked in. Luckily, we had both packed light (I'm finally learning how) and walked in. The hotel is gorgeous, and I had a bad moment of feeling out of place (like one of the Beverly Hillbillies) but after I saw a lady wearing the same outfit I had on -although I'm sure hers was much more expensive, ha! - I felt better.
The view from our balcony. BEACHY!
Believe it or not, I didn't set foot on the beach at all the first day, but mainly it was because of timing. We were both hungry after taking our stuff to the room, and so we set out to find some food. We had dinner at a place called The Black Pearl, which was very good, and after leaving we went on a wild goose chase to find a bathing suit cover up for me, because I'd forgotten to pack one. There were some for sale in the hotel shop, but I couldn't imagine paying that much for something that was basically going to get wet, so we thought we'd hit up one of the local surf shops and find something a bit more reasonable. It was a tough job, though, because if you aren't a teeny tiny teenager, or a maw-maw, there is nothing out there. Everything was either way too small or a muumuu. Ugh. We had to go to three or four different places before I found anything I would wear, but I'm still not happy with it. I had to go the muumuu route, because - no joke - everything else was way, way too small. I'm not thin by any means, but I'm not so crazy big that I can't find clothes for myself. But in this town, you'd think I was the circus fat lady or something. It was frustrating!!!! I wouldn't have even bothered looking for anything, but unfortunately, the hotel has a dress code, and you have to wear something over your swim suit while in the lobby. Granted, I guess I could have worn my street clothes over my suit, but I didn't want to get them sandy and wet because packing light means not having replacements!
The restaurant had fish utensils. I'd eat there just for that. :)
When we got onto our floor, we tried to find a vending machine for some drinks, but the one on our floor had been removed. Steve had to go up two floors before he found one, and I think I know why they are so hard to find. I found a mini-bar hidden in the television stand and the cans of soda inside were $3.25 apiece! I suppose they want you to get frustrated when you couldn't find the vending machine and buy the ones in the mini-bar instead. Yikes. No thanks. The vending machine ones were still more expensive than normal, but not as much as the ones in the mini-bar. I'm not at all bad-mouthing this hotel or anything, so please don't think that, but geez, everything was so flapping expensive.
We heard a couple arguing in one of the nearby rooms, but we never figured out why. It got pretty bad, though. Too bad we didn't hear what the fight was about. Aside from just being nosey, if one of them flings the other off the balcony, it would be nice to be able to tell the police why! :)
Oh, and you know how I said I had earned to pack light? Well, I think I did too good of a job, because when I was unpacking tonight I realized that I forgot some of my clothes! I should have enough to see me through the weekend, but I'd better not spill anything on myself or fall into the gulf, or I'll end up having to wear my new muumuu home!
Monday, September 26, 2011
RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING
1) Chances are, by the time you read this I will have mutated into some kind of grotesque, lumpy, gray humanoid creature that can read minds and ooze under doors. Why? Well, while I was at the gym this morning, I wasn't thinking and I wiped my mouth on my gym towel. You know the one I'm talking about. The scratchy, overly bleached towel provided by the gym that people use to wipe sweat off of their hands and weight machines? Wiping your face on a gym towel is bad enough, but not totally disgusting, but wiping your mouth...ugh. Not only that, before I could stop myself, I licked my lips. It was just a reflex, and my brain was not quick enough to tell me to stop. I was inside, so I couldn't spit, and so now I'm fairly certain that I've infected myself with something that will probably cause Athletes Liver or something like that.
I feel unclean. UNCLEAN ON THE INSIDE! *whimper*
2) So...Facebook has changed and it's annoying. I mean, I'm not flipping out and threatening to stop using it like some people, but it's irritating simply because it's new.
My only problems with it at this point are A) It janked up the privacy settings, which you have to figure out how to deal with and that is kind of a serious issue that needs to be addressed and B) I'm tired of people complaining about it. Threatening to stop using the site isn't going to get Mark Zuckerberg in a tizzy and cause him to change it back. Honestly, he's probably too busy rolling around naked in zillion dollar bills to care much of what you think. He's got 750 million or so other people who are going to stick around even if you don't.
Then, of course, some rumor got started that Facebook was going to start charging for memberships and people got their knickers all in a twist about it, once again threatening to stop using it. First off, when you sign up, the page says "Free and always will be." Also, Facebook Users are the product that Facebook sells to advertisers, and I doubt any smart business is going to charge it's product for the privilege of being sold. The whole debacle just makes me wish that Facebook had an app that allowed you to remotely smack people upside the head.
3) I've got to hide from the Jehovah's Witnesses for the rest of my life, and it's all my fault. OK, see, the former J.W. who used to come to our neighborhood was a nice lady that would stop by and hand me a copy of her magazines. I'd always take them because I knew she was just out doing her thing and I didn't want to discourage her from telling people about God. Also, I'm fairly certain that she probably got the door slammed in her face more than once. I think she knew I wasn't interested in joining her religion, but I was nice to her, so she'd always drop by. The last time I actually saw her in person was while I was sick with pneumonia and drugged beyond the capacity of rational thought. I had been asleep and heard the doorbell ring. In full-on drugged Crazy Town mode, I jumped out of bed and ran to the door, jerked it open and scared the crap out of her. I mean, she actually jumped back, got caught on a broken pot that was behind her and almost fell down the stairs. I'm going to go out on a limb and say that I probably looked like the girl from The Exorcist, which isn't exactly what a traveling missionary is expecting to see when they stop by a house. I have no idea what I said to her, but she didn't waste time getting away from me. I know she said she was sorry I was sick, and in my memory, I said it was OK, but for all I know I mumbled something only the Elder Gods would understand. Yog Sithoth rules! I dunno. All I know is that I never saw her again, and whomever took over for her was like some kind of Jehovah's Witness ninja. I'd never see or hear them come by, but when I'd open my door, a Watchtower magazine would be rolled up and stuck between the doorknob and the door frame. I liked it that way.
Well, last week I was in the middle of eating lunch and the doorbell rang. I thought it was a package being dropped off, but no...it was Elvis. Not that Elvis, silly...a Jehovah's Witness named Elvis who wanted to ask me questions about God. I didn't want to be rude, again, he's a missionary and I respect that, but still...sigh. Of course, I wasn't in the mindset at that moment to be given a Sunday school lesson, and I answered his question wrong. I tried to backtrack, but he was having none of it. He went on with his spiel, handed me a magazine, and asked if he could come back and discuss it with me. I didn't know what to say that wouldn't come out rude, so I said OK. The thing is, I don't want to discuss it with him. I already know that while our beliefs have similar themes and touchstones, they just do not agree on important things. I wish I had the stones to just tell him, no, I'm not interested, but I didn't and now I've got to figure out a way to avoid these people because unlike the Mormons, these people WILL come back. They are tenacious! I always try to work in that I am a Christian when they come by and start asking me questions, which is my probably too-subtle way of letting them know I am not interested, but they probably hear that all the time and they want to win people over to their side.
I just don't want to be rude, but I'm also really not interested. I going to spend the rest of my life with no lights on, creeping around the house on my hands and knees so as not to be seen through the windows. I'm such a jelly-fish.
4) You know, I've never before realized just how often I walk around the house in various states of undress*. Now that the family who owns the land behind us is having it cleared off by a large group of male landscapers, and since we haven't yet put blinds up in the dining room's big windows, I'm forcefully reminded, usually too late, that they can see right into my house. We used to have opaque curtains in the kitchen, so I'm used to having privacy. I mean, I'm not one of those people who vacuum naked or anything like that, but I've never thought twice about running to the other parts of the house while I'm getting ready to go someplace and not fully dressed yet. I don't even know if anyone up there has seen me, but in my cringing imagination, they have and they've laughed.
*I'd like to apologize for any mental pictures that might have caused. It was not intentional and I can't be held responsible for therapy bills. That is all.
I feel unclean. UNCLEAN ON THE INSIDE! *whimper*
2) So...Facebook has changed and it's annoying. I mean, I'm not flipping out and threatening to stop using it like some people, but it's irritating simply because it's new.
It's funnier if you say it in his voice. DO IT!
My only problems with it at this point are A) It janked up the privacy settings, which you have to figure out how to deal with and that is kind of a serious issue that needs to be addressed and B) I'm tired of people complaining about it. Threatening to stop using the site isn't going to get Mark Zuckerberg in a tizzy and cause him to change it back. Honestly, he's probably too busy rolling around naked in zillion dollar bills to care much of what you think. He's got 750 million or so other people who are going to stick around even if you don't.
Then, of course, some rumor got started that Facebook was going to start charging for memberships and people got their knickers all in a twist about it, once again threatening to stop using it. First off, when you sign up, the page says "Free and always will be." Also, Facebook Users are the product that Facebook sells to advertisers, and I doubt any smart business is going to charge it's product for the privilege of being sold. The whole debacle just makes me wish that Facebook had an app that allowed you to remotely smack people upside the head.
3) I've got to hide from the Jehovah's Witnesses for the rest of my life, and it's all my fault. OK, see, the former J.W. who used to come to our neighborhood was a nice lady that would stop by and hand me a copy of her magazines. I'd always take them because I knew she was just out doing her thing and I didn't want to discourage her from telling people about God. Also, I'm fairly certain that she probably got the door slammed in her face more than once. I think she knew I wasn't interested in joining her religion, but I was nice to her, so she'd always drop by. The last time I actually saw her in person was while I was sick with pneumonia and drugged beyond the capacity of rational thought. I had been asleep and heard the doorbell ring. In full-on drugged Crazy Town mode, I jumped out of bed and ran to the door, jerked it open and scared the crap out of her. I mean, she actually jumped back, got caught on a broken pot that was behind her and almost fell down the stairs. I'm going to go out on a limb and say that I probably looked like the girl from The Exorcist, which isn't exactly what a traveling missionary is expecting to see when they stop by a house. I have no idea what I said to her, but she didn't waste time getting away from me. I know she said she was sorry I was sick, and in my memory, I said it was OK, but for all I know I mumbled something only the Elder Gods would understand. Yog Sithoth rules! I dunno. All I know is that I never saw her again, and whomever took over for her was like some kind of Jehovah's Witness ninja. I'd never see or hear them come by, but when I'd open my door, a Watchtower magazine would be rolled up and stuck between the doorknob and the door frame. I liked it that way.
Well, last week I was in the middle of eating lunch and the doorbell rang. I thought it was a package being dropped off, but no...it was Elvis. Not that Elvis, silly...a Jehovah's Witness named Elvis who wanted to ask me questions about God. I didn't want to be rude, again, he's a missionary and I respect that, but still...sigh. Of course, I wasn't in the mindset at that moment to be given a Sunday school lesson, and I answered his question wrong. I tried to backtrack, but he was having none of it. He went on with his spiel, handed me a magazine, and asked if he could come back and discuss it with me. I didn't know what to say that wouldn't come out rude, so I said OK. The thing is, I don't want to discuss it with him. I already know that while our beliefs have similar themes and touchstones, they just do not agree on important things. I wish I had the stones to just tell him, no, I'm not interested, but I didn't and now I've got to figure out a way to avoid these people because unlike the Mormons, these people WILL come back. They are tenacious! I always try to work in that I am a Christian when they come by and start asking me questions, which is my probably too-subtle way of letting them know I am not interested, but they probably hear that all the time and they want to win people over to their side.
I just don't want to be rude, but I'm also really not interested. I going to spend the rest of my life with no lights on, creeping around the house on my hands and knees so as not to be seen through the windows. I'm such a jelly-fish.
4) You know, I've never before realized just how often I walk around the house in various states of undress*. Now that the family who owns the land behind us is having it cleared off by a large group of male landscapers, and since we haven't yet put blinds up in the dining room's big windows, I'm forcefully reminded, usually too late, that they can see right into my house. We used to have opaque curtains in the kitchen, so I'm used to having privacy. I mean, I'm not one of those people who vacuum naked or anything like that, but I've never thought twice about running to the other parts of the house while I'm getting ready to go someplace and not fully dressed yet. I don't even know if anyone up there has seen me, but in my cringing imagination, they have and they've laughed.
*I'd like to apologize for any mental pictures that might have caused. It was not intentional and I can't be held responsible for therapy bills. That is all.
Monday, September 19, 2011
RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING
1) Honestly, I wish more was going on in my life to write about. I even bore myself.
2) I bought a bathing suit the other day. Blarg. I think we all know how I feel about wearing a bathing suit, and it's precisely why I haven't even owned one in years. I actually ordered it online from a place called Pin Up Girl Clothing, because secretly I want to own one of everything they sell. I received said bathing suit (the one piece with the cherries on it, in case you're curious) and I can't say I'm impressed with the outcome of myself in the thing. Eh, I wasn't expecting a miracle! Also, the suit is super cute, so I'm not going to complain too much, and I will wear it. Out. In public. *gulp* Oh well, at least I haven't reduced myself to wearing a Victorian era bathing dress! :)
3) I felt so stupid at church yesterday. Oy. While I'm running A/V for the service, one of the things I've gotten used to doing is signaling the ushers when it's time to walk to the front of the sanctuary to collect offering. Usually, I let them know when it's time to get ready and when it's time to walk. Yesterday, some changes were made on the order of services, and I got lost on the list. I somehow managed to send the guys down an entire song early. It wouldn't have been so bad if the man I was feverishly waving at to just GO didn't try to tell me I was wrong. Since I was clearly convinced that he was wrong, I just signaled to the guys on the other side to go and since they did, everyone did...and that's when I realized I was wrong after all. Granted, few people realized anything was amiss, but I was so embarrassed. I probably wouldn't have been as embarrassed if I hadn't just been sitting there thinking: "I'm organized and I know what's going on today, why is that guy not doing what I say?!" Luckily they forgave my incompetence.
4) Other than miscuing ushers, guess what I did this weekend? I played Portal for the first time and I loved it! I'd known about Portal for a long time, and I knew the pop culture bits of it (The Cake Is A Lie) but I'd never had a chance to play it. Luckily, I was able to download the game for free and it completely consumed me for hours. I don't usually get that caught up with video games, unless I'm playing very specific ones with friends, but this one was fun! Also, for not having a clue how to play it before hand, I was pretty good at it! I did finally have to read some hints and walkthroughs on the last few levels, but I tried to keep that to a minimum unless I got completely confused. In the end, I finally defeated GLaDOS - which creeped me out, by the way. The whole game did. It was just weird. Now I am going to get Portal 2! I'm the kind of dork these game companies love, I'm sure.
At the very end, while the player is scrambling to defeat the giant computer bad-guy, it taunts you the whole time that you're destroying it's various parts. One line really stuck out for me. GLaDOS says
"You've been wrong about every single thing you've ever done, including this thing. You're not smart. You're not a scientist. You're not a doctor. You're not even a full-time employee. Where did your life go so wrong?"
All I could think of was "Wow, did the HR department for the SpRocket (ptooey) write this game?" Heehee.
I did learn one important thing during all the game playing. At some point while I was playing, I got sick. Really sick. It was the worst kind of car sick feeling I'd had in years, and that includes the 2006 New Years Eve incident. At first I thought I really was sick, and that something was terribly wrong with me. I took medicine and chowed down on ginger, and everything I could think of, but nothing worked. I finally stepped away from the computer for a while and felt better. It just turned out that first player shooter games make me really motion sick. I'm so hard-core! :)
5) I've been having a string of weird nightmares lately. They aren't the sit up and scream kind, but they are unsettling. I only clearly remember parts of two of them. In one, I'm being murdered over and over again. It isn't like I'm waking up when I'm killed, like a normal person would, it's almost like I'm being reincarnated immediately into someone else that's being murdered. Oh, and every incarnation is being killed by being stabbed with poison needles. What would Freud say about that, I wonder? :) The other one was not a violent nightmare, but it was about a homeless girl I meet and try to help get a job. I help her put together a resume and give her recommendations, but no one will hire her because they don't want to hire someone who is associated with me. She tries and tries to get work, but because I helped her, she can't get hired. Then she gets hit by a bus, and for some reason it's my fault because I couldn't help her get a job. I don't understand how the last part was my fault, but it didn't make me feel any better. Poor imaginary homeless girl. :(
6) Congratulations are in order for my friend Jason who just got engaged to his loverly girlfriend! Good luck, you guys!
7) Also, send out some good vibes to another couple of my friends who will be moving to Birmingham to pursue bigger, better, and more financially stable things! I hope everything goes perfectly and that they are successful in all of their endeavors!
2) I bought a bathing suit the other day. Blarg. I think we all know how I feel about wearing a bathing suit, and it's precisely why I haven't even owned one in years. I actually ordered it online from a place called Pin Up Girl Clothing, because secretly I want to own one of everything they sell. I received said bathing suit (the one piece with the cherries on it, in case you're curious) and I can't say I'm impressed with the outcome of myself in the thing. Eh, I wasn't expecting a miracle! Also, the suit is super cute, so I'm not going to complain too much, and I will wear it. Out. In public. *gulp* Oh well, at least I haven't reduced myself to wearing a Victorian era bathing dress! :)
3) I felt so stupid at church yesterday. Oy. While I'm running A/V for the service, one of the things I've gotten used to doing is signaling the ushers when it's time to walk to the front of the sanctuary to collect offering. Usually, I let them know when it's time to get ready and when it's time to walk. Yesterday, some changes were made on the order of services, and I got lost on the list. I somehow managed to send the guys down an entire song early. It wouldn't have been so bad if the man I was feverishly waving at to just GO didn't try to tell me I was wrong. Since I was clearly convinced that he was wrong, I just signaled to the guys on the other side to go and since they did, everyone did...and that's when I realized I was wrong after all. Granted, few people realized anything was amiss, but I was so embarrassed. I probably wouldn't have been as embarrassed if I hadn't just been sitting there thinking: "I'm organized and I know what's going on today, why is that guy not doing what I say?!" Luckily they forgave my incompetence.
4) Other than miscuing ushers, guess what I did this weekend? I played Portal for the first time and I loved it! I'd known about Portal for a long time, and I knew the pop culture bits of it (The Cake Is A Lie) but I'd never had a chance to play it. Luckily, I was able to download the game for free and it completely consumed me for hours. I don't usually get that caught up with video games, unless I'm playing very specific ones with friends, but this one was fun! Also, for not having a clue how to play it before hand, I was pretty good at it! I did finally have to read some hints and walkthroughs on the last few levels, but I tried to keep that to a minimum unless I got completely confused. In the end, I finally defeated GLaDOS - which creeped me out, by the way. The whole game did. It was just weird. Now I am going to get Portal 2! I'm the kind of dork these game companies love, I'm sure.
At the very end, while the player is scrambling to defeat the giant computer bad-guy, it taunts you the whole time that you're destroying it's various parts. One line really stuck out for me. GLaDOS says
"You've been wrong about every single thing you've ever done, including this thing. You're not smart. You're not a scientist. You're not a doctor. You're not even a full-time employee. Where did your life go so wrong?"
All I could think of was "Wow, did the HR department for the SpRocket (ptooey) write this game?" Heehee.
I did learn one important thing during all the game playing. At some point while I was playing, I got sick. Really sick. It was the worst kind of car sick feeling I'd had in years, and that includes the 2006 New Years Eve incident. At first I thought I really was sick, and that something was terribly wrong with me. I took medicine and chowed down on ginger, and everything I could think of, but nothing worked. I finally stepped away from the computer for a while and felt better. It just turned out that first player shooter games make me really motion sick. I'm so hard-core! :)
5) I've been having a string of weird nightmares lately. They aren't the sit up and scream kind, but they are unsettling. I only clearly remember parts of two of them. In one, I'm being murdered over and over again. It isn't like I'm waking up when I'm killed, like a normal person would, it's almost like I'm being reincarnated immediately into someone else that's being murdered. Oh, and every incarnation is being killed by being stabbed with poison needles. What would Freud say about that, I wonder? :) The other one was not a violent nightmare, but it was about a homeless girl I meet and try to help get a job. I help her put together a resume and give her recommendations, but no one will hire her because they don't want to hire someone who is associated with me. She tries and tries to get work, but because I helped her, she can't get hired. Then she gets hit by a bus, and for some reason it's my fault because I couldn't help her get a job. I don't understand how the last part was my fault, but it didn't make me feel any better. Poor imaginary homeless girl. :(
6) Congratulations are in order for my friend Jason who just got engaged to his loverly girlfriend! Good luck, you guys!
7) Also, send out some good vibes to another couple of my friends who will be moving to Birmingham to pursue bigger, better, and more financially stable things! I hope everything goes perfectly and that they are successful in all of their endeavors!
Wednesday, September 07, 2011
RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING
1) OK, I'm having a much better morning this morning. Seriously, I think I was traumatized by the events of yesterday. No joke, I was cringing and washing my hands every 5 minutes, and I think I sat down at one point and went catatonic. That sounds like an exaggeration, but I swear to you that I lost 3 hours of my life. I heard the clock chime 11:00 AM, and the next thing I knew, I was looking at the clock and it said 2:45 PM. I never once heard the clock chime again, nor do I have any idea what I was doing that whole time. In my memory, I was sitting at my computer desk reading a website, but I don't think that I was reading anything so interesting that I wouldn't move for 3 hours or hear the clock chime. Weirdness.
2) It's so nice and cool outside that I finally got to break out my bluejeans again! Oh, how I've missed them. Besides that, I've been freezing cold, but I think that's because the temps changed so fast. I prefer the cold, though, except that it makes me sleepy. I have too much to do to be sleepy. I wish the weather would hold right here for a while, but it's going to be sunny and warmer again before I know it. Oh, well. Right now it feels like football weather, which I love. Only now I can enjoy it properly instead of wearing a wool band uniform! I can't be certain, but my complete indifference to football may have stemmed directly from wearing those uniforms. It was torture, I say!
3) Speaking of bands, Steve had his Madison Community Band Patriotic Concert last Saturday! They were joined by the US Army Materiel Command Band, which was amazing. They sounded so good, and I think it was better than usual because they were in a proper auditorium, plus they had 40-something more players than they usually do. One of the Army guys played the oboe, and he was the first male oboe player I've ever seen. He was also the best oboe player I've ever heard in person, plus he was big and buff enough to kick anyone's ass if they made fun of him for being a male oboe player. I also got to meet Abraham Lincoln! Well, not the original one, 'cause...you know...he's dead and stuff. But Mr. Dennis Boggs, who often works with MCB, was there and he was just as good as the other one! Maybe even better because he is alive! Honestly, he did a great job at performing as President Lincoln, and I got to be his practice hand shaker as he walked down the aisle during rehearsal. I kept cracking up while he was giving his speeches, because I've been reading the book "Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter" which tells about his part in history, as well as weaving in the fictional bits of story within the framework of his real life. I kept expecting him to pull out an ax and talk about the vampires he'd killed along the way!
There were also civil war reenactors there, too, and I have to say it was odd seeing some of those wearing blue coats. Being from Alabama, I've generally only seen Confederate soldier reenactors, but Union soldiers were just as cool. I'm just glad they didn't get too into the part and burn the place down. It was a close call, though, because there was almost a ruckus when the bad director wanted to place the Stars and Bars next to the Union flag. The band director reminded them that it was a concert, not a reenactment, so they cooled their jets. There was also a fiddle player who did period appropriate songs and dancers in hoop-skirts. Ahhhh, I'd love to be able to do something like that. I love wearing costumes, and I'm fairly certain I could learn the old dances. Old school waltzing can't possibly be as difficult as medieval dancing, and I was good at that!
Anyway, the band itself sounded so good, and hopefully we'll have some video of it up soon, for those of you who'd like to hear it! :)
4) Rorschach left a pile of dead bird remnants on our porch last night. I'm fairly certain it was supposed to be a gift, but I'd much prefer a nice fruit basket. What is wrong with these animals? All they do is leave me disgusting things in weird places!
1) OK, I'm having a much better morning this morning. Seriously, I think I was traumatized by the events of yesterday. No joke, I was cringing and washing my hands every 5 minutes, and I think I sat down at one point and went catatonic. That sounds like an exaggeration, but I swear to you that I lost 3 hours of my life. I heard the clock chime 11:00 AM, and the next thing I knew, I was looking at the clock and it said 2:45 PM. I never once heard the clock chime again, nor do I have any idea what I was doing that whole time. In my memory, I was sitting at my computer desk reading a website, but I don't think that I was reading anything so interesting that I wouldn't move for 3 hours or hear the clock chime. Weirdness.
2) It's so nice and cool outside that I finally got to break out my bluejeans again! Oh, how I've missed them. Besides that, I've been freezing cold, but I think that's because the temps changed so fast. I prefer the cold, though, except that it makes me sleepy. I have too much to do to be sleepy. I wish the weather would hold right here for a while, but it's going to be sunny and warmer again before I know it. Oh, well. Right now it feels like football weather, which I love. Only now I can enjoy it properly instead of wearing a wool band uniform! I can't be certain, but my complete indifference to football may have stemmed directly from wearing those uniforms. It was torture, I say!
3) Speaking of bands, Steve had his Madison Community Band Patriotic Concert last Saturday! They were joined by the US Army Materiel Command Band, which was amazing. They sounded so good, and I think it was better than usual because they were in a proper auditorium, plus they had 40-something more players than they usually do. One of the Army guys played the oboe, and he was the first male oboe player I've ever seen. He was also the best oboe player I've ever heard in person, plus he was big and buff enough to kick anyone's ass if they made fun of him for being a male oboe player. I also got to meet Abraham Lincoln! Well, not the original one, 'cause...you know...he's dead and stuff. But Mr. Dennis Boggs, who often works with MCB, was there and he was just as good as the other one! Maybe even better because he is alive! Honestly, he did a great job at performing as President Lincoln, and I got to be his practice hand shaker as he walked down the aisle during rehearsal. I kept cracking up while he was giving his speeches, because I've been reading the book "Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter" which tells about his part in history, as well as weaving in the fictional bits of story within the framework of his real life. I kept expecting him to pull out an ax and talk about the vampires he'd killed along the way!
There were also civil war reenactors there, too, and I have to say it was odd seeing some of those wearing blue coats. Being from Alabama, I've generally only seen Confederate soldier reenactors, but Union soldiers were just as cool. I'm just glad they didn't get too into the part and burn the place down. It was a close call, though, because there was almost a ruckus when the bad director wanted to place the Stars and Bars next to the Union flag. The band director reminded them that it was a concert, not a reenactment, so they cooled their jets. There was also a fiddle player who did period appropriate songs and dancers in hoop-skirts. Ahhhh, I'd love to be able to do something like that. I love wearing costumes, and I'm fairly certain I could learn the old dances. Old school waltzing can't possibly be as difficult as medieval dancing, and I was good at that!
Anyway, the band itself sounded so good, and hopefully we'll have some video of it up soon, for those of you who'd like to hear it! :)
4) Rorschach left a pile of dead bird remnants on our porch last night. I'm fairly certain it was supposed to be a gift, but I'd much prefer a nice fruit basket. What is wrong with these animals? All they do is leave me disgusting things in weird places!
Tuesday, September 06, 2011
EVERYBODY POOPS - BUT SOME DO IT IN INCONVENIENT PLACES
Y'all...
Dear Lord...
I almost didn't write about this, because feces is not a subject that I discuss very often, even with my closest friends and family. The subject is rarely appropriate.
Before you get too concerned about the path this post is going to take, though, I assure you, I'm not talking about people poop. I'm talking about dog poop. Lots and lots of dog poop. I'm going to go ahead and apologize in advance for even talking about poop at all, and for any crudities that may go along with that.
Now, before I get to that part of the story, I'm going to need to back up a bit to yesterday, one of the rainiest days we've had in a long time. *dream sequence music and wavy lines*
This is a long story.
As any of you long time readers know, Steve and I don't leave our dogs out in the rain if we can help it. When it rains, we let the dogs out to do whatever business they have to attend to, and then we bring them back in and put them in their kennels. Yes, that sounds dumb, but it's just easier not to have to deal with sopping wet animals. I'm sure you'd agree. Our dogs kind of hate this, because they don't like being penned up inside the kennels all day, but usually they are very good about sleeping and being quiet while in there. One of the ways we trained them to get in their beds is to give them a treat once they are in there. That is a two edged sword, though, because we have to give them a treat every time they go in, even if that's multiple times a day. Yesterday was a more difficult day to keep them in the kennels because the rain lasted all day, Steve and I were both at home, and for some reason, when they can see us they would rather be out of the kennels getting petted rather than sitting in there just watching us. So we had a day of them going in an out several times. Butler was especially ornery, because he kept on getting up and demanding we let him out (batbatbat at the door with his paw.) At first it seemed normal, like he just wanted to be petted, which was mostly the case, but a few of those times I realized he needed to go and take care of some business out in the yard. This happened several times, and that should have given me a clue what was to come, but I'm apparently not smart enough to put two and two together. Right before Steve and I went to bed, Butler had started doing the whole batbatbat at the door thing again, but because we had just let him outside less than an hour before putting him in, we thought he was just trying to get us to pet him again.We just told him to lie down and go to sleep.
Let's fastforward to this morning, shall we?
Today would have been a frustrating day without the subsequent poop issue, because I turned off the alarm clock in my sleep. That isn't a big deal for me since I'm worthless and unemployed, but I'm the alarm clock keeper for Steve, and when I realized I'd turned it off, he was already late for work. Oy. He jumped up and ran to call his office, only to also realize he was not only late for work, but he had a doctor's appointment that he'd be late for if he didn't hurry and get out of the house. Oy again.
While Steve was rushing to do those things, I walked into the living room. I had noticed a smell before walking in, but still didn't realize what it entailed, but when I got all the way in there...well...horf. Butler had not just been wanting to be petted the night before. He had some serious business to take care of outside, and since we hadn't understood this, he had to take care of it inside his kennel in a most disgustingly loose and copious way. Apparently, Steve and I had not realized that the other one had been giving the dogs their treats, so we were each giving them one when they'd go in. That probably wouldn't have been an issue with just regular milk bones, but one of their favorite treats are some rawhide chewies made for cleaning their teeth, and the bag specifically says that too many of them would cause "gastric distress." Understatement, folks. Serious understatement.
I'm going to pause here to tell you that at that moment, I suddenly remembered that we'd forgotten to put the trash can at the street the night before. Since we'd been out of town last time the trash was picked up, our can was over-full and we didn't have room to put anything else in there, which meant we had at least one big, full trash bag sitting in the garage waiting for the can to be emptied. We simply couldn't wait another week for the trash to be picked up, so I yelled to Steve that he needed to get the kennel outside, I let the dogs out- getting smacked in the leg and foot with a befouled dog's tail in the process- and I ran to roll the can to the street. Oh, and it was raining. Still. I could hear the garbage truck, but couldn't see it, so I grabbed the can, started pushing it through the yard and struck a hillock of grass, which caused me to fall...hard. It is only by the grace of God that the garbage can didn't open and spread trash all over the yard, but I have a feeling I might have had a complete come-apart if that had happened. I jumped up, ran the can to the side of the street, only to realize that the garbage men had already passed my house. I'm pretty sure I shouted some fairly foul language up into the rainy sky at that point. I just stood there by the can, wet and bedraggled, and looked pitiful. Luckily, the garbage man saw me and let me take the can to the other side of the street so it could be emptied by the big claw arm thing, so at least our garbage issue was solved.
After dragging the can back into the garage, I ran around to the side of the house and grabbed the hose. I turned it on, thinking Steve would be bringing out the kennel any second. It didn't come. I was standing out in the rain getting soaked, when I saw Steve walk out of the house, sans kennel, going "HURK.....HUUUUURK!" SIGH. Look, I don't blame him for dry heaving. It smelled horrible and even on the best days poop is gross and no one wants to have to deal with it. However, I was wet and cold and had just face planted on the lawn. I was NOT in the mood do deal with anyone's weak stomach. I ran into the house, grabbed the kennel by the door and dragged it out one handed, pretty much destroying everything in my path. Once I got it to the lawn, I tried spraying it with the hose, only to realize I didn't have the spray attachment. So Steve brought me that and I tried to put it on, only I forgot you have to turn the hose off to do that, and I got sprayed in the face by the hose. Gah!!!!!!!!
Finally attaching the spray thing, I started spraying out the kennel, and that was just... horrible. I couldn't get the poo out. Some of it had dried in there. It was stuck to everything, and every few seconds I'd have to tip the thing over to empty poo water all over the ground. That is where I almost lost my composure. Seriously, the last thing I wanted was to be seen standing out in my yard, looking wet and homeless, standing next to a kennel filled with dried-on dog poo, holding a hose and crying, but I came close. I was afraid I was going to have to climb into the kennel and scrub it out, and I just didn't think I could make myself do it. Poor Bear was standing there, completely soaked, looking miserable and whining at me like he was thinking "Hey, I didn't poop on anything! Could you at least let me go inside?" Butler was the only one who seemed to be happy. Covered in his own filth or not, my guess was that he was feeling much better and so he was just running around, barking at stuff, and having a fine old time.
Steve finally came out, having composed himself, and informed me that we could take the kennel apart. Hallelujah. He managed to get the pieces apart and so I could get at the inside with the hose much easier, and he went inside to get ready to leave. I had to take Butler's favorite toys, hose them off, and then throw them in the washer with about three bottles of bleach. I also found a long handled brush that I could scrub the inside of the kennels with and a bottle of spray bleach to disinfect. It was raining harder by this point, but I wasn't in a position to leave off what I was doing. I knew I couldn't leave the dogs out there in the rain all day, but Butler was still covered in poo and he had no kennel in which to sleep in until I cleaned this one out. When Steve came out to leave for his doctor's appointment, he made an offhand remark about wishing we had a spare kennel. So I made the executive decision that he needed to go by Petsmart after his doctor appointment and get a new one. I know that seems extreme, but I was desperate. He left and I stood out there for another 45 minutes scrubbing the damn kennel down. Oh, and to top all that off, something stung me on the neck while I was doing that. I was not happy. When I finally got the kennel clean, I took the hose over to the fence and called Butler over. I spent the next 10 minutes trying to spray him off, but he would run away every time. I don't blame him, I'm sure the water was cold. I walked into the house to warm up a bit, only to hear the phone ring. It was Steve. He needed me to come to Petsmart with the truck to pick up the new kennel, because it was too big to fit in the Challenger. So I jumped in the truck, picked up the kennel, and we got home with enough time for Steve to help me put it together before he had to leave for work. After that I was on my own again.
I managed to get Bear inside and sort of dried off. He was not happy with me at all, and he looked like a drowned rat. I got him inside and into his kennel, and then had to go deal with Butler. I knew there wasn't anything else I could do but give him a bath, but have you ever tried to wrangle a beshitted 90 pound Lab into a shower stall when he hates water? We usually have him washed at the vet's office because we can't handle him. So, yeah, that was fun. I was able to get him all the way through the house and into the bedroom before he remembered "BATH!" I literally had to pick up his front legs and walk him into the bathroom. I trapped him in and turned on the water, and it was the only time I've ever been glad the bathrooms in this house were small, because he couldn't get away from me. I managed to keep him in the shower, holding him down with my side while scrubbing him and soaping him up. I even had to wash his butt, and I don't ever want to do that again. He didn't like it, I didn't like it, and I'm fairly certain he's going to need therapy now. I'm just glad I had gloves.
I was in the shower with him in my bra, sweatpants, and my athletic shoes - all soaking wet by the time I was done. I tried to dry him off, tried to soothe him a little, but I'm pretty sure he hates me now. He shook all over my clean, hanging clothes, all over the bedroom furniture, and all over the living room. We both dripped as we went down the hall and I finally got him into his new kennel. Once he was inside, I was so relieved, but I felt so disgusting. I'd been washing my hands and keeping as far away from the poo as possible, but I'm sure you'll understand that just dealing with a mess like that can make a person feel foul. Also, by that point the water heater had been almost drained, so I couldn't even take a bath right away. Oh, the humanity. I had to sit around, freezing and wet, until more water heated. It took about 30 minutes before I felt sure there was enough hot water to disinfect myself, and then I took a long, hot shower. If I hadn't been so sure it would damage my skin, I would have sprayed bleach all over myself too...but I had to settle for anti-bacterial soap.
I'm finally clean, but I still feel like I'm coated in filth. I'm starving, but the idea of actually eating anything I touch is making me gag, so I'm going to have to wait until that passes. I know it wasn't Butler's fault that this happened, and I'm not mad at him, I just wish he could have somehow managed to open his own kennel, open the kitchen and garage doors, and gotten outside before he pooped everywhere. I know he doesn't have thumbs, but is that too much to ask?
I think I'm going to need another bath. *shudder*
Y'all...
Dear Lord...
I almost didn't write about this, because feces is not a subject that I discuss very often, even with my closest friends and family. The subject is rarely appropriate.
Before you get too concerned about the path this post is going to take, though, I assure you, I'm not talking about people poop. I'm talking about dog poop. Lots and lots of dog poop. I'm going to go ahead and apologize in advance for even talking about poop at all, and for any crudities that may go along with that.
Now, before I get to that part of the story, I'm going to need to back up a bit to yesterday, one of the rainiest days we've had in a long time. *dream sequence music and wavy lines*
This is a long story.
As any of you long time readers know, Steve and I don't leave our dogs out in the rain if we can help it. When it rains, we let the dogs out to do whatever business they have to attend to, and then we bring them back in and put them in their kennels. Yes, that sounds dumb, but it's just easier not to have to deal with sopping wet animals. I'm sure you'd agree. Our dogs kind of hate this, because they don't like being penned up inside the kennels all day, but usually they are very good about sleeping and being quiet while in there. One of the ways we trained them to get in their beds is to give them a treat once they are in there. That is a two edged sword, though, because we have to give them a treat every time they go in, even if that's multiple times a day. Yesterday was a more difficult day to keep them in the kennels because the rain lasted all day, Steve and I were both at home, and for some reason, when they can see us they would rather be out of the kennels getting petted rather than sitting in there just watching us. So we had a day of them going in an out several times. Butler was especially ornery, because he kept on getting up and demanding we let him out (batbatbat at the door with his paw.) At first it seemed normal, like he just wanted to be petted, which was mostly the case, but a few of those times I realized he needed to go and take care of some business out in the yard. This happened several times, and that should have given me a clue what was to come, but I'm apparently not smart enough to put two and two together. Right before Steve and I went to bed, Butler had started doing the whole batbatbat at the door thing again, but because we had just let him outside less than an hour before putting him in, we thought he was just trying to get us to pet him again.We just told him to lie down and go to sleep.
Let's fastforward to this morning, shall we?
Today would have been a frustrating day without the subsequent poop issue, because I turned off the alarm clock in my sleep. That isn't a big deal for me since I'm worthless and unemployed, but I'm the alarm clock keeper for Steve, and when I realized I'd turned it off, he was already late for work. Oy. He jumped up and ran to call his office, only to also realize he was not only late for work, but he had a doctor's appointment that he'd be late for if he didn't hurry and get out of the house. Oy again.
While Steve was rushing to do those things, I walked into the living room. I had noticed a smell before walking in, but still didn't realize what it entailed, but when I got all the way in there...well...horf. Butler had not just been wanting to be petted the night before. He had some serious business to take care of outside, and since we hadn't understood this, he had to take care of it inside his kennel in a most disgustingly loose and copious way. Apparently, Steve and I had not realized that the other one had been giving the dogs their treats, so we were each giving them one when they'd go in. That probably wouldn't have been an issue with just regular milk bones, but one of their favorite treats are some rawhide chewies made for cleaning their teeth, and the bag specifically says that too many of them would cause "gastric distress." Understatement, folks. Serious understatement.
I'm going to pause here to tell you that at that moment, I suddenly remembered that we'd forgotten to put the trash can at the street the night before. Since we'd been out of town last time the trash was picked up, our can was over-full and we didn't have room to put anything else in there, which meant we had at least one big, full trash bag sitting in the garage waiting for the can to be emptied. We simply couldn't wait another week for the trash to be picked up, so I yelled to Steve that he needed to get the kennel outside, I let the dogs out- getting smacked in the leg and foot with a befouled dog's tail in the process- and I ran to roll the can to the street. Oh, and it was raining. Still. I could hear the garbage truck, but couldn't see it, so I grabbed the can, started pushing it through the yard and struck a hillock of grass, which caused me to fall...hard. It is only by the grace of God that the garbage can didn't open and spread trash all over the yard, but I have a feeling I might have had a complete come-apart if that had happened. I jumped up, ran the can to the side of the street, only to realize that the garbage men had already passed my house. I'm pretty sure I shouted some fairly foul language up into the rainy sky at that point. I just stood there by the can, wet and bedraggled, and looked pitiful. Luckily, the garbage man saw me and let me take the can to the other side of the street so it could be emptied by the big claw arm thing, so at least our garbage issue was solved.
After dragging the can back into the garage, I ran around to the side of the house and grabbed the hose. I turned it on, thinking Steve would be bringing out the kennel any second. It didn't come. I was standing out in the rain getting soaked, when I saw Steve walk out of the house, sans kennel, going "HURK.....HUUUUURK!" SIGH. Look, I don't blame him for dry heaving. It smelled horrible and even on the best days poop is gross and no one wants to have to deal with it. However, I was wet and cold and had just face planted on the lawn. I was NOT in the mood do deal with anyone's weak stomach. I ran into the house, grabbed the kennel by the door and dragged it out one handed, pretty much destroying everything in my path. Once I got it to the lawn, I tried spraying it with the hose, only to realize I didn't have the spray attachment. So Steve brought me that and I tried to put it on, only I forgot you have to turn the hose off to do that, and I got sprayed in the face by the hose. Gah!!!!!!!!
Finally attaching the spray thing, I started spraying out the kennel, and that was just... horrible. I couldn't get the poo out. Some of it had dried in there. It was stuck to everything, and every few seconds I'd have to tip the thing over to empty poo water all over the ground. That is where I almost lost my composure. Seriously, the last thing I wanted was to be seen standing out in my yard, looking wet and homeless, standing next to a kennel filled with dried-on dog poo, holding a hose and crying, but I came close. I was afraid I was going to have to climb into the kennel and scrub it out, and I just didn't think I could make myself do it. Poor Bear was standing there, completely soaked, looking miserable and whining at me like he was thinking "Hey, I didn't poop on anything! Could you at least let me go inside?" Butler was the only one who seemed to be happy. Covered in his own filth or not, my guess was that he was feeling much better and so he was just running around, barking at stuff, and having a fine old time.
Steve finally came out, having composed himself, and informed me that we could take the kennel apart. Hallelujah. He managed to get the pieces apart and so I could get at the inside with the hose much easier, and he went inside to get ready to leave. I had to take Butler's favorite toys, hose them off, and then throw them in the washer with about three bottles of bleach. I also found a long handled brush that I could scrub the inside of the kennels with and a bottle of spray bleach to disinfect. It was raining harder by this point, but I wasn't in a position to leave off what I was doing. I knew I couldn't leave the dogs out there in the rain all day, but Butler was still covered in poo and he had no kennel in which to sleep in until I cleaned this one out. When Steve came out to leave for his doctor's appointment, he made an offhand remark about wishing we had a spare kennel. So I made the executive decision that he needed to go by Petsmart after his doctor appointment and get a new one. I know that seems extreme, but I was desperate. He left and I stood out there for another 45 minutes scrubbing the damn kennel down. Oh, and to top all that off, something stung me on the neck while I was doing that. I was not happy. When I finally got the kennel clean, I took the hose over to the fence and called Butler over. I spent the next 10 minutes trying to spray him off, but he would run away every time. I don't blame him, I'm sure the water was cold. I walked into the house to warm up a bit, only to hear the phone ring. It was Steve. He needed me to come to Petsmart with the truck to pick up the new kennel, because it was too big to fit in the Challenger. So I jumped in the truck, picked up the kennel, and we got home with enough time for Steve to help me put it together before he had to leave for work. After that I was on my own again.
I managed to get Bear inside and sort of dried off. He was not happy with me at all, and he looked like a drowned rat. I got him inside and into his kennel, and then had to go deal with Butler. I knew there wasn't anything else I could do but give him a bath, but have you ever tried to wrangle a beshitted 90 pound Lab into a shower stall when he hates water? We usually have him washed at the vet's office because we can't handle him. So, yeah, that was fun. I was able to get him all the way through the house and into the bedroom before he remembered "BATH!" I literally had to pick up his front legs and walk him into the bathroom. I trapped him in and turned on the water, and it was the only time I've ever been glad the bathrooms in this house were small, because he couldn't get away from me. I managed to keep him in the shower, holding him down with my side while scrubbing him and soaping him up. I even had to wash his butt, and I don't ever want to do that again. He didn't like it, I didn't like it, and I'm fairly certain he's going to need therapy now. I'm just glad I had gloves.
I was in the shower with him in my bra, sweatpants, and my athletic shoes - all soaking wet by the time I was done. I tried to dry him off, tried to soothe him a little, but I'm pretty sure he hates me now. He shook all over my clean, hanging clothes, all over the bedroom furniture, and all over the living room. We both dripped as we went down the hall and I finally got him into his new kennel. Once he was inside, I was so relieved, but I felt so disgusting. I'd been washing my hands and keeping as far away from the poo as possible, but I'm sure you'll understand that just dealing with a mess like that can make a person feel foul. Also, by that point the water heater had been almost drained, so I couldn't even take a bath right away. Oh, the humanity. I had to sit around, freezing and wet, until more water heated. It took about 30 minutes before I felt sure there was enough hot water to disinfect myself, and then I took a long, hot shower. If I hadn't been so sure it would damage my skin, I would have sprayed bleach all over myself too...but I had to settle for anti-bacterial soap.
I'm finally clean, but I still feel like I'm coated in filth. I'm starving, but the idea of actually eating anything I touch is making me gag, so I'm going to have to wait until that passes. I know it wasn't Butler's fault that this happened, and I'm not mad at him, I just wish he could have somehow managed to open his own kennel, open the kitchen and garage doors, and gotten outside before he pooped everywhere. I know he doesn't have thumbs, but is that too much to ask?
I think I'm going to need another bath. *shudder*
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Although it was nice seeing my Pratt family again, I'm glad to finally be home.
If you don't mind, I won't pick apart my weekend and tell any stories just yet. Suffice it to say that the funeral went well and Grandma is not suffering anymore.
I don't think it really hit me that she was actually gone for good until last night after everything was over. I'm really going to miss her.
I'm beginning to think it just hurts to much to love people. There should be a way to turn it off.
Also, I hate to cry.
More later.
If you don't mind, I won't pick apart my weekend and tell any stories just yet. Suffice it to say that the funeral went well and Grandma is not suffering anymore.
I don't think it really hit me that she was actually gone for good until last night after everything was over. I'm really going to miss her.
I'm beginning to think it just hurts to much to love people. There should be a way to turn it off.
Also, I hate to cry.
More later.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
A QUICKIE
Once again, I'm asking for any spare prayers you may have lying around.
Mr. Lee got a call this morning about his mother. She had another round of seizures and was put back into the hospital. As things look now, she probably won't get better this time.
Please pray for Gramma, so that if she can't recover, she can at least pass with dignity and peace. She's an awesome lady and she deserves at least that.
Also pray for the family, as this is tough on everyone and we will miss her very much.
Thanks.
Once again, I'm asking for any spare prayers you may have lying around.
Mr. Lee got a call this morning about his mother. She had another round of seizures and was put back into the hospital. As things look now, she probably won't get better this time.
Please pray for Gramma, so that if she can't recover, she can at least pass with dignity and peace. She's an awesome lady and she deserves at least that.
Also pray for the family, as this is tough on everyone and we will miss her very much.
Thanks.
Monday, August 22, 2011
RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING
1) After church yesterday, I was standing the in lobby talking to one of our deacons, when out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw someone looking at me. I turned my head, but the man that I thought was looking my way wasn't looking at me after all. I turned my head to talk to someone else and it happened again. I looked back and noticed that the same man was looking my way with an odd expression on his face, he seemed to be looking at me as if he...uh..."knew what I looked like without my shimmy," and when he saw me looking at him, he turned his head away. I immediately got the wiggins. I'm not so vain as to think he was checking me out, so my next idea was that something was wrong with my clothes, i.e. my fly was open or my shirt had fallen off, or I'd forgotten my shoes or something obvious to everyone but myself. Seriously, folks, at this point, I'm lucky I haven't walked out of the house in nothing but a petticoat and a pair of wellington boots. So I stood there, completely awkward but trying hard not to look awkward, which only amplified my awkwardness, and trying to figure out why this man was looking at me. I mean, I don't know him very well, but I'm fairly certain he isn't a creeper or a perv and all I could do was wonder if there was something hanging out of my nose or was I wearing my underwear on the outside of my pants or something.
It only dawned on me after I got home that I was standing in front of the bulletin board. My guess was that he was reading flyers posted behind or beside me from across the room. Because of this, now I'm wondering if he thought I was surreptitiously staring at him across the room, because I kept looking at him while trying to figure out why he was looking at me. For all I know, he went home and told his family about how that one lady, you know...the one who sings sometimes and works in the kitchen, kept staring at him and how it was weirding him out.
I think from now on, every time I go somewhere public, I'm just going to wear a shirt saying "I have few social skills and am easily rendered self-conscious. Please don't look in my direction or I'll get awkward. Thank you for your compliance."
However, I will say this much: If that was his "reading-a-flyer-from-across-the-room" expression, I wish it conveyed a little more "reading-a-flyer" and a little less "I-wonder-what-her-spleen-tastes-like."
2) You know, I usually really appreciate the anonymity of the Internet. It's nice to be able to interact with people from all over the world without your entire life being on display. However, one thing I hate about it is that a great deal of people tend to think that because we don't know their names or faces, they can behave like complete jerks.
I usually like to read the comment sections of web articles that I find interesting, but lately I've noticed that more and more often the comments can become downright nasty for seemingly no other reason than that the commenter wants to be hateful. Are we as a society so repressed that it becomes necessary for us to viciously, verbally attack perfect strangers because they have different opinions or ideals than we do? It isn't that I think people shouldn't be able to express their opinions, because...well, that wouldn't be fair either, but is it too much to ask that people show a little bit of respect for others, even when we really don't HAVE to?
I know this sort of thing has gone on as long as the Internet has been around. Honestly, I'm sure that I've probably typed a few things that came across as overly ugly if I wasn't thinking about how it sounded. But ever since I actually sat back and started really noticing the genuine contempt people show one another when they disagree on religion, grammar, sports, or...I dunno...anything really, I've begun to worry about how this affects our lives off of the internet. Is that crazy? I know that the forums online don't exactly represent the whole of society and that usually the squeakiest wheels are the loudest and most noticeable, but in an increasingly digital world, how long before the comfort some people feel about attacking perfect, faceless strangers spills over into their real lives? I'm not talking about, you know, physically attacking someone necessarily, but it isn't a complete stretch of the imagination to think that someone who gets comfortable attacking another person's beliefs and ideals on such an impersonal level as the internet, could eventually let that happen in everyday life.
One of my high school teachers once gave us a quote by a man named Dwight Moody that says "Character is who we are in the dark" and that's what I think of when I read the kind of hateful things that people say online. It doesn't get much darker than complete anonymity, does it?
Aaaaaaand if we all join hands and sang Kumbaya, the world would be a better place. :) Sorry, didn't mean to preach.
Just...be nice. To everyone. Even when you don't want to.
3) Speaking of high school...my 15 year reunion is coming up this Saturday! I'm not sure how excited I am about it because there seems to be a great deal of disinterest by the majority of the members of our senior class. It'll be great to see people again, to be sure, but I wonder how many people will actually be there?
I was given the job of making a "memory table" for the reunion, which is going to consist of my yearbook, whatever mementos I can scrape together, and a big fold out foam board thing that I'll attach pictures to, but I know for a fact that I can't fill that thing. I had to send a Facebook message out to beg other people to bring pictures to use because in the process of trying to think of what I could add, I realized that I had a less than typical experience. I literally never knew I was missing anything until someone started one of those "You Know You Went To (Insert High School Name Here) If..." pages on Facebook. I don't know what I was doing, but whatever it was, it wasn't what almost everyone else was doing! I was never invited to any parties, I had no idea where the cool kids hung out, and I didn't date much, so I don't have many pictures that don't revolve around being in the band or FFA. Don't worry, I'm not feeling sorry for myself about it, because I remember high school being just fine. I wasn't popular, but I wasn't bullied. Most people just thought I was weird, and I was OK with that, I guess! I had friends, and I don't remember any real enemies. I have always kind of been a flake about that sort of thing, though. I wouldn't have realized someone didn't like me unless they told me to my face, which didn't happen, so there very well could have been a whole section of my class that wished I'd die in a wood chipper accident. Who knows? I'm not worried about it, though. It was a long time ago. Oh, well. I just hope someone else brings pictures!
Oh, and as for that project board... Oy, vey. I went to Hobby Lobby to get some things to decorate it with, and I wandered into the scrap booking section to see if I could find some pre-made do-hickies that I could add to it. I found music notes, sports stuff, and even a really cute cheerleader uniform thing in the correct colors. Scrap book companies sell almost any kind of thing you could ever imagine, every theme, every sport, every hobby...whatever. You can find something to fit your scrap booking needs. I, of course, couldn't find the one thing I was looking for. I needed something that would go along with our school mascot, but it is next to impossible to get my hands on anything appropriate because of my school's completely un-PC mascot, the Indian. We weren't a specific tribe of Indian, or the Chiefs or the Braves...just The Indians. I was boned. Seriously, there were no feathers, no tee-pees, not even one Native American anything. In fact, the closest thing I could find was in the Thanksgiving section, and it was a package of those weird, foam, bug-eyed kid cut outs that were not only ugly, but completely the wrong kind of thing. I mean, I get that Indians aren't PC, but it isn't as if we were the "Fighting Gay-Jewish-Black-Crippled Guys" or something! Of course, had we been that, it would have been easier to find themed stickers. *shakes head*
1) After church yesterday, I was standing the in lobby talking to one of our deacons, when out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw someone looking at me. I turned my head, but the man that I thought was looking my way wasn't looking at me after all. I turned my head to talk to someone else and it happened again. I looked back and noticed that the same man was looking my way with an odd expression on his face, he seemed to be looking at me as if he...uh..."knew what I looked like without my shimmy," and when he saw me looking at him, he turned his head away. I immediately got the wiggins. I'm not so vain as to think he was checking me out, so my next idea was that something was wrong with my clothes, i.e. my fly was open or my shirt had fallen off, or I'd forgotten my shoes or something obvious to everyone but myself. Seriously, folks, at this point, I'm lucky I haven't walked out of the house in nothing but a petticoat and a pair of wellington boots. So I stood there, completely awkward but trying hard not to look awkward, which only amplified my awkwardness, and trying to figure out why this man was looking at me. I mean, I don't know him very well, but I'm fairly certain he isn't a creeper or a perv and all I could do was wonder if there was something hanging out of my nose or was I wearing my underwear on the outside of my pants or something.
It only dawned on me after I got home that I was standing in front of the bulletin board. My guess was that he was reading flyers posted behind or beside me from across the room. Because of this, now I'm wondering if he thought I was surreptitiously staring at him across the room, because I kept looking at him while trying to figure out why he was looking at me. For all I know, he went home and told his family about how that one lady, you know...the one who sings sometimes and works in the kitchen, kept staring at him and how it was weirding him out.
I think from now on, every time I go somewhere public, I'm just going to wear a shirt saying "I have few social skills and am easily rendered self-conscious. Please don't look in my direction or I'll get awkward. Thank you for your compliance."
However, I will say this much: If that was his "reading-a-flyer-from-across-the-room" expression, I wish it conveyed a little more "reading-a-flyer" and a little less "I-wonder-what-her-spleen-tastes-like."
2) You know, I usually really appreciate the anonymity of the Internet. It's nice to be able to interact with people from all over the world without your entire life being on display. However, one thing I hate about it is that a great deal of people tend to think that because we don't know their names or faces, they can behave like complete jerks.
I usually like to read the comment sections of web articles that I find interesting, but lately I've noticed that more and more often the comments can become downright nasty for seemingly no other reason than that the commenter wants to be hateful. Are we as a society so repressed that it becomes necessary for us to viciously, verbally attack perfect strangers because they have different opinions or ideals than we do? It isn't that I think people shouldn't be able to express their opinions, because...well, that wouldn't be fair either, but is it too much to ask that people show a little bit of respect for others, even when we really don't HAVE to?
I know this sort of thing has gone on as long as the Internet has been around. Honestly, I'm sure that I've probably typed a few things that came across as overly ugly if I wasn't thinking about how it sounded. But ever since I actually sat back and started really noticing the genuine contempt people show one another when they disagree on religion, grammar, sports, or...I dunno...anything really, I've begun to worry about how this affects our lives off of the internet. Is that crazy? I know that the forums online don't exactly represent the whole of society and that usually the squeakiest wheels are the loudest and most noticeable, but in an increasingly digital world, how long before the comfort some people feel about attacking perfect, faceless strangers spills over into their real lives? I'm not talking about, you know, physically attacking someone necessarily, but it isn't a complete stretch of the imagination to think that someone who gets comfortable attacking another person's beliefs and ideals on such an impersonal level as the internet, could eventually let that happen in everyday life.
One of my high school teachers once gave us a quote by a man named Dwight Moody that says "Character is who we are in the dark" and that's what I think of when I read the kind of hateful things that people say online. It doesn't get much darker than complete anonymity, does it?
Aaaaaaand if we all join hands and sang Kumbaya, the world would be a better place. :) Sorry, didn't mean to preach.
Just...be nice. To everyone. Even when you don't want to.
3) Speaking of high school...my 15 year reunion is coming up this Saturday! I'm not sure how excited I am about it because there seems to be a great deal of disinterest by the majority of the members of our senior class. It'll be great to see people again, to be sure, but I wonder how many people will actually be there?
I was given the job of making a "memory table" for the reunion, which is going to consist of my yearbook, whatever mementos I can scrape together, and a big fold out foam board thing that I'll attach pictures to, but I know for a fact that I can't fill that thing. I had to send a Facebook message out to beg other people to bring pictures to use because in the process of trying to think of what I could add, I realized that I had a less than typical experience. I literally never knew I was missing anything until someone started one of those "You Know You Went To (Insert High School Name Here) If..." pages on Facebook. I don't know what I was doing, but whatever it was, it wasn't what almost everyone else was doing! I was never invited to any parties, I had no idea where the cool kids hung out, and I didn't date much, so I don't have many pictures that don't revolve around being in the band or FFA. Don't worry, I'm not feeling sorry for myself about it, because I remember high school being just fine. I wasn't popular, but I wasn't bullied. Most people just thought I was weird, and I was OK with that, I guess! I had friends, and I don't remember any real enemies. I have always kind of been a flake about that sort of thing, though. I wouldn't have realized someone didn't like me unless they told me to my face, which didn't happen, so there very well could have been a whole section of my class that wished I'd die in a wood chipper accident. Who knows? I'm not worried about it, though. It was a long time ago. Oh, well. I just hope someone else brings pictures!
Oh, and as for that project board... Oy, vey. I went to Hobby Lobby to get some things to decorate it with, and I wandered into the scrap booking section to see if I could find some pre-made do-hickies that I could add to it. I found music notes, sports stuff, and even a really cute cheerleader uniform thing in the correct colors. Scrap book companies sell almost any kind of thing you could ever imagine, every theme, every sport, every hobby...whatever. You can find something to fit your scrap booking needs. I, of course, couldn't find the one thing I was looking for. I needed something that would go along with our school mascot, but it is next to impossible to get my hands on anything appropriate because of my school's completely un-PC mascot, the Indian. We weren't a specific tribe of Indian, or the Chiefs or the Braves...just The Indians. I was boned. Seriously, there were no feathers, no tee-pees, not even one Native American anything. In fact, the closest thing I could find was in the Thanksgiving section, and it was a package of those weird, foam, bug-eyed kid cut outs that were not only ugly, but completely the wrong kind of thing. I mean, I get that Indians aren't PC, but it isn't as if we were the "Fighting Gay-Jewish-Black-Crippled Guys" or something! Of course, had we been that, it would have been easier to find themed stickers. *shakes head*
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING
1) Sara and I went to see "The Help" yesterday. It was a great movie, but it made me totally sick to my stomach. I sort of knew what the movie would be about, but since I'd never read the book and really only had two movie reviews to guide me (one that said the movie was wonderful and uplifting, and one that said it was trite and manipulative), I wasn't prepared for how the movie would make me feel.
Look, I've lived in Alabama all of my life and I'm certainly no stranger to racism. I've seen people say and do the most ignorant things imaginable because they were just simply, blindly, bigoted. People who hate because their families say it's OK to hate others because of their color. It's frigging TRADITION to some of these people, and it seriously makes me wonder if any of them even know why they hate. It's awful. I've seen and heard bad things, but if what went on in that movie was even close to what happened in real life...I haven't even scratched the surface.
Even though my family is descended from a mishmash of sharecroppers and Indians, and I'm fairly certain none of them ever owned slaves or had "Help" like the Junya-League Ladies in that movie, I still feel as if I should apologize to everyone for being white, southern and a woman.
I'm just relieved that the movie wasn't set in Alabama. Oy vey.
Great movie, though.
2) I started a new blog the other day! It's called "We Review All the Things!" and it's basically what it sounds like.
Hey, you people know how much I like to review stuff, and I do it on here whenever I think about it, but I thought it would be fun to have a separate blog dedicated to it. I don't know why, really. I'm not really contributing anything else to the world these days, so why not?
I may have a friend writing it with me, but since she's off learning how to save lives, she may not get much of a chance to do it. Hopefully I won't forget about it and leave it mostly blank forever. We'll see! :)
3) Oh, and since I haven't mentioned the job situation lately, let me give you an update. I was offered a job in June. I accepted said job. I never heard back from the guy who offered me the job. Well, I've talked to him, and even sent him a note asking about the job, but nada. Oh well, I'm not bovvered. He has his reasons, and I'm not going to bug him about it. Apparently, it just isn't where I need to be. I've gone zen about it all. I'll just make hats.
4) I mowed the lawn today and had a minor freak out. We have a large weeping willow next to the fence, and I hate mowing under it because there is just no way to avoid driving through the branches. It's like being in a drive-through car wash, when the long, flappy things that slobber soap suds all over the car slide over you. Only there are leaves. Anyway, I finally just decided to go for it and get that one patch I always avoid when I'm mowing, and when I did, the branches slid over me and a whole lot of things fell on me, including something that looked like the empty shell of Cthulu. I screamed and started swinging my arms around and brushing myself off and I can within an ace of running to a bush. It took me a minute to realize it was a cicada shell, and I don't know why it bothered me so much, because I used to play with those when I was little. It heebed me out badly, though. I wasn't expecting it, and had I not realized what it was in time, my neighbors would have had the treat of seeing me strip naked in the front yard and run screaming into the house. I think we're all glad that didn't happen.
5) I went to the gym this morning and decided to change up the routine a little. Usually, I just spend a lot of time on the elliptical, doing whatever it is that ellipticals simulate. I knew that I'd eventually have to change that up, so I added in some of the weight training machines. I have no idea what it was that I did to myself on one of them, but it must have pushed me just a teeny bit past my current stamina level, because right in the middle of doing one of them, I almost puked on the machine. I still have no idea what I did, but I hope that doesn't happen again. Somehow, I don't think the nice Latina custodian will be as nice to me if she has to clean that up. Oof.
1) Sara and I went to see "The Help" yesterday. It was a great movie, but it made me totally sick to my stomach. I sort of knew what the movie would be about, but since I'd never read the book and really only had two movie reviews to guide me (one that said the movie was wonderful and uplifting, and one that said it was trite and manipulative), I wasn't prepared for how the movie would make me feel.
Look, I've lived in Alabama all of my life and I'm certainly no stranger to racism. I've seen people say and do the most ignorant things imaginable because they were just simply, blindly, bigoted. People who hate because their families say it's OK to hate others because of their color. It's frigging TRADITION to some of these people, and it seriously makes me wonder if any of them even know why they hate. It's awful. I've seen and heard bad things, but if what went on in that movie was even close to what happened in real life...I haven't even scratched the surface.
Even though my family is descended from a mishmash of sharecroppers and Indians, and I'm fairly certain none of them ever owned slaves or had "Help" like the Junya-League Ladies in that movie, I still feel as if I should apologize to everyone for being white, southern and a woman.
I'm just relieved that the movie wasn't set in Alabama. Oy vey.
Great movie, though.
2) I started a new blog the other day! It's called "We Review All the Things!" and it's basically what it sounds like.
Hey, you people know how much I like to review stuff, and I do it on here whenever I think about it, but I thought it would be fun to have a separate blog dedicated to it. I don't know why, really. I'm not really contributing anything else to the world these days, so why not?
I may have a friend writing it with me, but since she's off learning how to save lives, she may not get much of a chance to do it. Hopefully I won't forget about it and leave it mostly blank forever. We'll see! :)
3) Oh, and since I haven't mentioned the job situation lately, let me give you an update. I was offered a job in June. I accepted said job. I never heard back from the guy who offered me the job. Well, I've talked to him, and even sent him a note asking about the job, but nada. Oh well, I'm not bovvered. He has his reasons, and I'm not going to bug him about it. Apparently, it just isn't where I need to be. I've gone zen about it all. I'll just make hats.
4) I mowed the lawn today and had a minor freak out. We have a large weeping willow next to the fence, and I hate mowing under it because there is just no way to avoid driving through the branches. It's like being in a drive-through car wash, when the long, flappy things that slobber soap suds all over the car slide over you. Only there are leaves. Anyway, I finally just decided to go for it and get that one patch I always avoid when I'm mowing, and when I did, the branches slid over me and a whole lot of things fell on me, including something that looked like the empty shell of Cthulu. I screamed and started swinging my arms around and brushing myself off and I can within an ace of running to a bush. It took me a minute to realize it was a cicada shell, and I don't know why it bothered me so much, because I used to play with those when I was little. It heebed me out badly, though. I wasn't expecting it, and had I not realized what it was in time, my neighbors would have had the treat of seeing me strip naked in the front yard and run screaming into the house. I think we're all glad that didn't happen.
5) I went to the gym this morning and decided to change up the routine a little. Usually, I just spend a lot of time on the elliptical, doing whatever it is that ellipticals simulate. I knew that I'd eventually have to change that up, so I added in some of the weight training machines. I have no idea what it was that I did to myself on one of them, but it must have pushed me just a teeny bit past my current stamina level, because right in the middle of doing one of them, I almost puked on the machine. I still have no idea what I did, but I hope that doesn't happen again. Somehow, I don't think the nice Latina custodian will be as nice to me if she has to clean that up. Oof.
Friday, August 12, 2011
GAME OVER, MAN... GAME OVER
This morning I sat down at my computer, as I do everyday, to check my email and see what's going on in the world.
I had gotten a message from a friend on Facebook, and I had just clicked the link in my email to answer it when my computer said in the default robot voice:
My initial thought was, "Oh, great, I've opened up a website with a talking ad. I hate those."
Seriously, whoever decided that an ad that plays loudly and suddenly without your consent was a good idea, was an idiot. I continued my typing, ignoring the sound when the computer then said:
"Hello, Kelly."
OK, hold up. Talking ads exist, but I don't know of any that know my name. I then thought that I had somehow accidentally enabled the program for visually impaired that reads off what I had typed. However, I haven't even been to that section of my computer preferences since I've had this computer, so I knew that wasn't it. Then it occurred to me that the guy who sent me the email message (one of my computer savvy friends) could have somehow somehow rigged the message to read what I was writing, but it dawned on me that it wasn't reading what I was writing. All of those thoughts flashed through my head in a second or so, and I don't mind telling you it kind of freaked me out. Ok, it didn't just "kind of" freak me out, it scared me very badly. I was staring, unblinking at the screen with my fingers frozen over the keyboard, trying to understand what was going on. So I did the only thing I could think of. I said...
"What? Are you...are you talking to me?"
The computer said "Yes."
My stomach did a weird kind of flip inside and I went cold all over. I began looking up at the web chat camera embedded in the monitor and I thought that maybe someone had hacked into my computer and was messing with me. My initial thought after that was "Thank God I'm not naked or something..."
I don't mind telling you that at this point my mind kind of went blank and I don't remember exactly what the computer began saying to me, but I do remember that the computer was talking to me. Not just saying words, but answering my questions. The blank, soulless, robot voice was comping through the speakers, saying things that were clearly aimed at me and not just randomly being picked out of on-screen text. The only thing I remember clearly is me being on the edge of my chair, ready to jump up and run out of the house, and saying,
"What? Why? Why are you talking to me?"
Then I jumped up and ran into the kitchen. That's where I saw Steve, doubled up at his laptop, laughing hysterically. Apparently someone he works with told him about a great joke to play on someone who has a Mac. I don't pretend to understand what he did, but he made the computer talk. He connected to my iMac through his laptop, and he could hear me talking to the computer, so he was answering my questions. He thought it was quite clever. I, however, thought that the machines were about to rise up and kill us all.
I used to think that it was good to have a technoweenie in the house. Now...I'm not so sure.
This morning I sat down at my computer, as I do everyday, to check my email and see what's going on in the world.
I had gotten a message from a friend on Facebook, and I had just clicked the link in my email to answer it when my computer said in the default robot voice:
"Hello."
My initial thought was, "Oh, great, I've opened up a website with a talking ad. I hate those."
Seriously, whoever decided that an ad that plays loudly and suddenly without your consent was a good idea, was an idiot. I continued my typing, ignoring the sound when the computer then said:
"Hello, Kelly."
OK, hold up. Talking ads exist, but I don't know of any that know my name. I then thought that I had somehow accidentally enabled the program for visually impaired that reads off what I had typed. However, I haven't even been to that section of my computer preferences since I've had this computer, so I knew that wasn't it. Then it occurred to me that the guy who sent me the email message (one of my computer savvy friends) could have somehow somehow rigged the message to read what I was writing, but it dawned on me that it wasn't reading what I was writing. All of those thoughts flashed through my head in a second or so, and I don't mind telling you it kind of freaked me out. Ok, it didn't just "kind of" freak me out, it scared me very badly. I was staring, unblinking at the screen with my fingers frozen over the keyboard, trying to understand what was going on. So I did the only thing I could think of. I said...
"What? Are you...are you talking to me?"
The computer said "Yes."
My stomach did a weird kind of flip inside and I went cold all over. I began looking up at the web chat camera embedded in the monitor and I thought that maybe someone had hacked into my computer and was messing with me. My initial thought after that was "Thank God I'm not naked or something..."
I don't mind telling you that at this point my mind kind of went blank and I don't remember exactly what the computer began saying to me, but I do remember that the computer was talking to me. Not just saying words, but answering my questions. The blank, soulless, robot voice was comping through the speakers, saying things that were clearly aimed at me and not just randomly being picked out of on-screen text. The only thing I remember clearly is me being on the edge of my chair, ready to jump up and run out of the house, and saying,
"What? Why? Why are you talking to me?"
Then I jumped up and ran into the kitchen. That's where I saw Steve, doubled up at his laptop, laughing hysterically. Apparently someone he works with told him about a great joke to play on someone who has a Mac. I don't pretend to understand what he did, but he made the computer talk. He connected to my iMac through his laptop, and he could hear me talking to the computer, so he was answering my questions. He thought it was quite clever. I, however, thought that the machines were about to rise up and kill us all.
I used to think that it was good to have a technoweenie in the house. Now...I'm not so sure.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
UPDATE
Mr. Lee's surgery went fine and he's at home and resting at the moment. He's a little sore and stiff, but that's to be expected when someone takes a Drimmel bit to one of your most bendy joints, right? :)
We sat in the pre-op area with him for 4 hours before they took him back. FOUR HOURS. It wasn't terrible or anything, but he was supposed to be taken back way sooner than he was and since his leg tends to hurt more while he was lying down, he wasn't too happy with the wait. Luckily, one of his deacon friends was there and we all sat and talked until they took him back.
When they finally came and got him, Steve and I walked out into the post-op waiting room and attacked the vending machine. We were starving by this point, because we hadn't thought we would be there that long and hadn't had lunch. We only had enough time to have a bag of chips and a soda before the nurse came out and said he was all done and was waking up from sedation. We were away from him for about 45 minutes total, and that encompassed him being wheeled back, being sedated, having the surgery, and waking up from his sedation. The doc came out and showed us the pictures from the laproscopic camera (ew) and explained what they had done, and about 15 minutes later we were out the door. Wow. They should just install a drive through over at the surgery center!
Steve took Mr. Lee home while I stopped to get his pain meds and then got everyone something to eat. Mr. Lee hadn't eaten since the night before, so he was quite hungry by the time I got over to his place. We all sat for a while, and after making sure he was OK and didn't need us to stay the night, we left.
I called to check on him today and he's doing fine! Thanks for the prayers!
Mr. Lee's surgery went fine and he's at home and resting at the moment. He's a little sore and stiff, but that's to be expected when someone takes a Drimmel bit to one of your most bendy joints, right? :)
We sat in the pre-op area with him for 4 hours before they took him back. FOUR HOURS. It wasn't terrible or anything, but he was supposed to be taken back way sooner than he was and since his leg tends to hurt more while he was lying down, he wasn't too happy with the wait. Luckily, one of his deacon friends was there and we all sat and talked until they took him back.
When they finally came and got him, Steve and I walked out into the post-op waiting room and attacked the vending machine. We were starving by this point, because we hadn't thought we would be there that long and hadn't had lunch. We only had enough time to have a bag of chips and a soda before the nurse came out and said he was all done and was waking up from sedation. We were away from him for about 45 minutes total, and that encompassed him being wheeled back, being sedated, having the surgery, and waking up from his sedation. The doc came out and showed us the pictures from the laproscopic camera (ew) and explained what they had done, and about 15 minutes later we were out the door. Wow. They should just install a drive through over at the surgery center!
Steve took Mr. Lee home while I stopped to get his pain meds and then got everyone something to eat. Mr. Lee hadn't eaten since the night before, so he was quite hungry by the time I got over to his place. We all sat for a while, and after making sure he was OK and didn't need us to stay the night, we left.
I called to check on him today and he's doing fine! Thanks for the prayers!
Tuesday, August 09, 2011
A QUICKIE
If you have a moment, please say a prayer for Mr. Lee tomorrow. He's going to have knee surgery to repair a torn meniscus. It shouldn't be a terribly serious surgery, but I'm sure he would appreciate the prayers while the doctors are poking holes in his knee and rooting around in there.
Also, just so you know, I like saying the word "meniscus."
Meniscus.
Meniscus.
Meniscus.
If you have a moment, please say a prayer for Mr. Lee tomorrow. He's going to have knee surgery to repair a torn meniscus. It shouldn't be a terribly serious surgery, but I'm sure he would appreciate the prayers while the doctors are poking holes in his knee and rooting around in there.
Also, just so you know, I like saying the word "meniscus."
Meniscus.
Meniscus.
Meniscus.
Monday, August 08, 2011
RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING
1) I think something is wrong with me. Not health-wise or anything, but I think I have the mentality of a super-villain. Yesterday I was sitting in church, of all places, and I caught myself giggling at the thought of having super powers and using them against one of my fellow church members. I wasn't imagining causing them pain or anything like that, so don't get scared, but I was having a grand old time thinking about causing him psychological distress. This isn't even a person I dislike, so I'm not sure why the thought of screwing with his mind was so funny to me. When I say I caught myself doing it, that is the truth. I was just sitting there, smirking about it, when I realized what I was thinking in the back of my head. Geez. It would be bad enough that I could become a super villain, but I certainly wouldn't want my origin story to begin by me causing one of my church family to have a nervous breakdown.
2) A cable representative (heh) will be coming by our house today to work on our modem. We've been having periodic slow-ass connectivity for the past week, and it was driving Steve insane. We got a recorded message yesterday reminding us of the "appointment," and I use that term loosely. The message said something to the effect of "Please remember you have an appointment. The cable representative will be arriving sometime between 8:00 am and 7:00 pm so please be available." Huh...really? I'm glad they were able to narrow down the times I could expect them. Otherwise, I might be able to have a productive day or something. Fun.
3) Speaking of appointments...oy, vey. Last Thursday, I was expecting the bug man to come by. I NEEDED him to come by, after finding the giant roaches in the house. Usually, our bug man comes in the afternoon, so I was thinking it wasn't out of the question for me to have a shower and change before he got there. The exterminator usually stays outdoors and sprays all the way around the house, so I don't have to move anything inside or clean up the house specially for him. Usually. I happened to walk out of the back of the house fairly early on Thursday, in my pajamas, mad hair, and pillow creases still on my face, to see the exterminator walking to the door. I didn't know what to do, but I figured that if he was going to be outdoors, it wasn't too big of a deal. Of course, when I opened the door, I found out that he was the termite guy and not the bug sprayer! He started going over the interior of the house with a flashlight! I was so embarrassed! I've been in the process of organizing my office and planning a massive Goodwill dump, so I've got boxes and clothes everywhere. We already have a clutter problem, so that was already an issue, but it was worse that day. Plus the bed hadn't been made and since we have a weird shoe migration issue in our bedroom, shoes were everywhere. I had laundry piled up in the hallway waiting to be washed and laundry in our bedroom waiting to be folded. I was horrified. The termite guy didn't say anything, but I was still embarrassed. I just hope he's seen worse.
4) I've been helping Sara with her wedding plans and we went to look at a lot of different venues in Huntsville last Wednesday! It was so much fun! We only got lost two or three times. Sara blames me, but I'm firmly convinced that her GPS is evil and possessed by a demon with no directional sense. We saw the event halls at two different museums, a giant house that was especially built for weddings, and my personal favorite place, the Weeden House. I'm beginning to think that wedding stuff is much cuter than it used to be when I got married. I mean, dresses are dresses and flowers are flowers, but I like the aesthetic of the more casual, DIY style that a lot of wedding websites show these days. Even wedding photography is more interesting. My wedding was beautiful, don't get me wrong, but I really enjoy looking at the things that are currently in vogue these days. I like weddings, I can't help it. I can't bring myself to watch any of the TV shows about wedding planning, dress shopping, or bridezillas (I've already promised Sara a beat down if she wanders into that territory, because I love her, of course) but I love to help plan them! The only thing I will not tolerate that I've seen these days are mustaches on sticks. I don't care how hipster-trendy they are, they make me want to punch people. KNOW THIS!
5) I used a chainsaw this past weekend! That probably doesn't sound very exciting to you, but I've never used one before! I didn't cut myself or maim Steve, so I consider the experiment to be a success! We were trying to cut down that blasted holly tree that we can't seem to ever get rid of. I hate that tree with a vengeance that is only equal to the hatred I feel for the Zombie Crape Myrtle. We've tried cutting it down and other people have tried cutting it down, but it WILL. NOT. DIE. To make matters worse, a giant honeysuckle bush grew up through it and it all got tangled up in a big, leafy mess. The result looks terrible, and I have no doubt that it's only going to come back stronger and more powerful than before, but at least right now you can see out of the guest room window. Part of me wants to find one of the straighter branches and make a Harry Potter wand out of it. 11 inches long, made of holly...all I need after that is a Phoenix feather. You can get those online, right? :)
Have a great week, folks!
1) I think something is wrong with me. Not health-wise or anything, but I think I have the mentality of a super-villain. Yesterday I was sitting in church, of all places, and I caught myself giggling at the thought of having super powers and using them against one of my fellow church members. I wasn't imagining causing them pain or anything like that, so don't get scared, but I was having a grand old time thinking about causing him psychological distress. This isn't even a person I dislike, so I'm not sure why the thought of screwing with his mind was so funny to me. When I say I caught myself doing it, that is the truth. I was just sitting there, smirking about it, when I realized what I was thinking in the back of my head. Geez. It would be bad enough that I could become a super villain, but I certainly wouldn't want my origin story to begin by me causing one of my church family to have a nervous breakdown.
2) A cable representative (heh) will be coming by our house today to work on our modem. We've been having periodic slow-ass connectivity for the past week, and it was driving Steve insane. We got a recorded message yesterday reminding us of the "appointment," and I use that term loosely. The message said something to the effect of "Please remember you have an appointment. The cable representative will be arriving sometime between 8:00 am and 7:00 pm so please be available." Huh...really? I'm glad they were able to narrow down the times I could expect them. Otherwise, I might be able to have a productive day or something. Fun.
3) Speaking of appointments...oy, vey. Last Thursday, I was expecting the bug man to come by. I NEEDED him to come by, after finding the giant roaches in the house. Usually, our bug man comes in the afternoon, so I was thinking it wasn't out of the question for me to have a shower and change before he got there. The exterminator usually stays outdoors and sprays all the way around the house, so I don't have to move anything inside or clean up the house specially for him. Usually. I happened to walk out of the back of the house fairly early on Thursday, in my pajamas, mad hair, and pillow creases still on my face, to see the exterminator walking to the door. I didn't know what to do, but I figured that if he was going to be outdoors, it wasn't too big of a deal. Of course, when I opened the door, I found out that he was the termite guy and not the bug sprayer! He started going over the interior of the house with a flashlight! I was so embarrassed! I've been in the process of organizing my office and planning a massive Goodwill dump, so I've got boxes and clothes everywhere. We already have a clutter problem, so that was already an issue, but it was worse that day. Plus the bed hadn't been made and since we have a weird shoe migration issue in our bedroom, shoes were everywhere. I had laundry piled up in the hallway waiting to be washed and laundry in our bedroom waiting to be folded. I was horrified. The termite guy didn't say anything, but I was still embarrassed. I just hope he's seen worse.
4) I've been helping Sara with her wedding plans and we went to look at a lot of different venues in Huntsville last Wednesday! It was so much fun! We only got lost two or three times. Sara blames me, but I'm firmly convinced that her GPS is evil and possessed by a demon with no directional sense. We saw the event halls at two different museums, a giant house that was especially built for weddings, and my personal favorite place, the Weeden House. I'm beginning to think that wedding stuff is much cuter than it used to be when I got married. I mean, dresses are dresses and flowers are flowers, but I like the aesthetic of the more casual, DIY style that a lot of wedding websites show these days. Even wedding photography is more interesting. My wedding was beautiful, don't get me wrong, but I really enjoy looking at the things that are currently in vogue these days. I like weddings, I can't help it. I can't bring myself to watch any of the TV shows about wedding planning, dress shopping, or bridezillas (I've already promised Sara a beat down if she wanders into that territory, because I love her, of course) but I love to help plan them! The only thing I will not tolerate that I've seen these days are mustaches on sticks. I don't care how hipster-trendy they are, they make me want to punch people. KNOW THIS!
5) I used a chainsaw this past weekend! That probably doesn't sound very exciting to you, but I've never used one before! I didn't cut myself or maim Steve, so I consider the experiment to be a success! We were trying to cut down that blasted holly tree that we can't seem to ever get rid of. I hate that tree with a vengeance that is only equal to the hatred I feel for the Zombie Crape Myrtle. We've tried cutting it down and other people have tried cutting it down, but it WILL. NOT. DIE. To make matters worse, a giant honeysuckle bush grew up through it and it all got tangled up in a big, leafy mess. The result looks terrible, and I have no doubt that it's only going to come back stronger and more powerful than before, but at least right now you can see out of the guest room window. Part of me wants to find one of the straighter branches and make a Harry Potter wand out of it. 11 inches long, made of holly...all I need after that is a Phoenix feather. You can get those online, right? :)
Have a great week, folks!
Friday, August 05, 2011
*SIGH*
Well, this is lovely.
As some of you already know, I have a Twitter account. I don't use my real name, and since I had an old account under the name I'm most well known as on the internets, that I cancelled years ago, I couldn't get that name back. When I started my Twitter account back up again, I decided to use a nickname a friend of mine from the Sprocket (ptooey) gave me. I'd tell you what the name is, but it might only exacerbate my current problem.
Basically, it's an abbreviated version of the French word for grapefruit. That's all I'm saying.
If you aren't familiar with the way Twitter works, when you want to refer to someone else who might have a Twitter account (or anyone, really) you put an @ sign before their name or handle. That creates an automatic link to the account with that name, apparently whether or not the person they are talking about has a Twitter account of their own or not.
Anyway, after I opened this particular account, at first I noticed that my Twitter feed was being linked to by people who are referring to friends who actually had this name, or a variation of it. At first, it was all in Portuguese, and whoever this person I shared a name with was a party animal because when I finally figured out what language it was, I translated it online and the tweets were always talking about going to clubs and parties. It was a little annoying to get an email every time this person referred to my account, but I was OK with that, because it was harmless. Plus, it wasn't happening very often. I just sort of wished that whoever kept linking to my feed would figure out that they were linking to the wrong person.
Next, I started getting a lot (and I mean a lot) of emails mentioning that I was being referred to by a professional organization that just happened to have an acronym that was the same as my Twitter name. This was a bit more annoying because whoever was in charge of the "professional" social networking for this company wasn't smart enough to realize that if they wanted to refer to something going on within their organization, and since they didn't own that particular Twitter account name, they needed to refer to themselves with a # instead of an @. If nothing else, anyone interested in joining their organization would be linked to my Twitter account, which is about as banal and non professional as one can be, instead of being directed to anything that had to do with them. That's just bad business, and it was probably frustrating to anyone trying to follow the organization on Twitter. Eventually, though, the references to me by that company stopped, hopefully because they got someone who figured out how the site worked.
Now, however, I've got a whole new problem. I'd been getting notifications that my account was being linked to a lot, and I couldn't figure out why. The entries were all in a language I didn't know, or even recognize, and while they did reference my name (therefore linking to my account) whoever posted it also has a link to a picture of a mostly naked woman in an...uh...well, porny pose. Since you can't see the woman's face, anyone who clicks on the name link is redirected to my page and that makes it look like it's me posting naked pictures of myself online. I most certainly am not doing this! I'm also getting questions in languages I don't understand, so I can't clear up the confusion with these international pervs. I did a little digging and finally figured out that the link was written in Turkish, and once I got that far, I was able to find the webpage where the picture came from. Apparently, there is a Turkish model or celebrity of some kind who takes mostly naked pictures of herself and posts them on her website. Honestly, if I had a body like hers I'd probably be posting naked pictures of myself online too...but since it isn't me, I'd rather not be associated. I also realized that her name is one stinking letter off from my Twitter account name, and the dumb ass who originally posted the link to the picture misspelled her name and that is why all of these Turkish horn-dogs won't leave me alone. Until this dies out, or until this lady gets her own Twitter account, there isn't anything I can do but occasionally put up my own tweets in English (a lot of good that does) that I am not the naked Turkish model.
Granted, I could change my name on the Twitter account. I know this. I shouldn't have to, though. I like having something I can use that doesn't automatically link me to everything else I do online. The only people who know who I am are the friends I have who personally know me, and anyone else following me just knows me as my screen name.
Oh, well. This too shall pass, I guess. Now, if I could just figure out how to start charging these idiots who can't seem to understand I'm not this woman every time the link is posted, I wouldn't mind. Heck, I'd learn Turkish and pretend to be her. It's not my goodies being flashed all over the internet, after all. It'd be a win-win for everyone. :)
Well, this is lovely.
As some of you already know, I have a Twitter account. I don't use my real name, and since I had an old account under the name I'm most well known as on the internets, that I cancelled years ago, I couldn't get that name back. When I started my Twitter account back up again, I decided to use a nickname a friend of mine from the Sprocket (ptooey) gave me. I'd tell you what the name is, but it might only exacerbate my current problem.
Basically, it's an abbreviated version of the French word for grapefruit. That's all I'm saying.
If you aren't familiar with the way Twitter works, when you want to refer to someone else who might have a Twitter account (or anyone, really) you put an @ sign before their name or handle. That creates an automatic link to the account with that name, apparently whether or not the person they are talking about has a Twitter account of their own or not.
Anyway, after I opened this particular account, at first I noticed that my Twitter feed was being linked to by people who are referring to friends who actually had this name, or a variation of it. At first, it was all in Portuguese, and whoever this person I shared a name with was a party animal because when I finally figured out what language it was, I translated it online and the tweets were always talking about going to clubs and parties. It was a little annoying to get an email every time this person referred to my account, but I was OK with that, because it was harmless. Plus, it wasn't happening very often. I just sort of wished that whoever kept linking to my feed would figure out that they were linking to the wrong person.
Next, I started getting a lot (and I mean a lot) of emails mentioning that I was being referred to by a professional organization that just happened to have an acronym that was the same as my Twitter name. This was a bit more annoying because whoever was in charge of the "professional" social networking for this company wasn't smart enough to realize that if they wanted to refer to something going on within their organization, and since they didn't own that particular Twitter account name, they needed to refer to themselves with a # instead of an @. If nothing else, anyone interested in joining their organization would be linked to my Twitter account, which is about as banal and non professional as one can be, instead of being directed to anything that had to do with them. That's just bad business, and it was probably frustrating to anyone trying to follow the organization on Twitter. Eventually, though, the references to me by that company stopped, hopefully because they got someone who figured out how the site worked.
Now, however, I've got a whole new problem. I'd been getting notifications that my account was being linked to a lot, and I couldn't figure out why. The entries were all in a language I didn't know, or even recognize, and while they did reference my name (therefore linking to my account) whoever posted it also has a link to a picture of a mostly naked woman in an...uh...well, porny pose. Since you can't see the woman's face, anyone who clicks on the name link is redirected to my page and that makes it look like it's me posting naked pictures of myself online. I most certainly am not doing this! I'm also getting questions in languages I don't understand, so I can't clear up the confusion with these international pervs. I did a little digging and finally figured out that the link was written in Turkish, and once I got that far, I was able to find the webpage where the picture came from. Apparently, there is a Turkish model or celebrity of some kind who takes mostly naked pictures of herself and posts them on her website. Honestly, if I had a body like hers I'd probably be posting naked pictures of myself online too...but since it isn't me, I'd rather not be associated. I also realized that her name is one stinking letter off from my Twitter account name, and the dumb ass who originally posted the link to the picture misspelled her name and that is why all of these Turkish horn-dogs won't leave me alone. Until this dies out, or until this lady gets her own Twitter account, there isn't anything I can do but occasionally put up my own tweets in English (a lot of good that does) that I am not the naked Turkish model.
Granted, I could change my name on the Twitter account. I know this. I shouldn't have to, though. I like having something I can use that doesn't automatically link me to everything else I do online. The only people who know who I am are the friends I have who personally know me, and anyone else following me just knows me as my screen name.
Oh, well. This too shall pass, I guess. Now, if I could just figure out how to start charging these idiots who can't seem to understand I'm not this woman every time the link is posted, I wouldn't mind. Heck, I'd learn Turkish and pretend to be her. It's not my goodies being flashed all over the internet, after all. It'd be a win-win for everyone. :)
Monday, August 01, 2011
RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING
1) Bear had a vet appointment on Saturday with a new doctor. When Steve called to make the appointment, he was asked if he had a doctor preference and he said yes. When they asked if it was our regular vet, he said no and asked for the nice, blonde lady we had once. I didn't know this, of course, so I was in a state of pre-rage over having to face that condescending heifer we normally go to. I know, I know, I shouldn't say things like that, but seriously, whenever we go to the vet I get that "First-Day-of-School" feeling in my stomach because I don't want to go and have to sit there while the vet talks to us like we're children. But I digress. When Steve told me we were going to see the blonde vet, I was glad, because even though we've only seen her one time, we really liked her a lot and she genuinely seems to enjoy working with the dogs (even when they act like butt-heads). I felt kind of sneaky, coming in to see a different vet, but I figured since it was Saturday, the regular vet would never know! Bear's visit went fine, except that he's fat, but we made it through the entire visit without being talked down to or me flying into a rage and wanting to yank off the vet's arms, wookie-style. I thought we were home free, until we stepped out of the examining room and the vet we don't like was sitting there. I felt like I'd been caught cheating on her or something. I wanted to step up to her and yell "YOU NEVER GAVE ME WHAT I NEEDED! YOU NEVER TREATED ME RIGHT! I HAD TO GO TO GO ELSEWHERE! IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!" Of course, I didn't. Coward that I am, I took the dog to the car while Steve payed and filled out paperwork so I wouldn't have to stand there in the cone of shame. Oh, well. It was definitely her, not me.
2) I think I linked to this a couple of years ago, but I'm going to do it again, just in case I didn't. I realize that most people won't enjoy looking at these like I do, but the Tennessee Sampler Survey has been taking up my internet time recently. It's a site dedicated to documenting and preserving needlework heritage from Tennessee. The samplers (or cross stitch/embroidery pictures for those who aren't down with the lingo, heh) are almost all by young women who were in Female Academies in Tennessee in the early 19th Century. Those are schools for women where they learned to be ladies, and to learn things ladies needed to know how to do! I imagine they were like high schools where almost every class is home ec. Most of the samplers can be proven to be from Tennessee, and since the names and dates were on most of them, the people who made them can be traced and a bit of information about the person is included with each sampler. I like these because they weren't meant to be put in a museum or anything, and they are very personal to each girl who made them. Basically, it was just a piece of homework they had, so they show different quirks and tastes from different parts of Tennessee. I wish there were something like this from the female academies of Alabama. It's funny to me that stuff like this was once taught in schools for girls, but then again, I guess young southern women in the early 1800s weren't exactly looking to become doctors and engineers. They were most probableh tryin' to catch a husband, and you had to know how to do these things to be a propaaah lady. Heeheehee.
3) Over the past two days, I have found two giant roaches in our house. I hate roaches. I hate them. When I see them, my skin crawls and all I want to do is sit in a very clean, empty room where I can see every inch of the floor around me. I had to dispose of them myself, because both times Steve hasn't been available to get them for me. I think they're only inside because it's been so hot outside, and because of the deluge of rain we got on Saturday, and because it's almost time for the exterminator to come, so I'm hoping that they go away after the bug man cometh on Thursday, but I've got to live here until then. I've now been inspired to go into every room and box up anything that is on the floor, sterilize the house, spray poison on every inch of baseboard, and set fire to the whole thing. Seriously, and I don't care how sissy this sounds to you, but after the one I found this morning, Steve was late for work because he had to calm me down. I went fetal. If I'm ever in a place where the cockroaches fly or hiss, I will not survive.
4) Steve and I went to see Cowboys and Aliens this weekend, and I liked it a lot! It wasn't the greatest movie ever, but it was fun and Harrison Ford was in it! Also, that last British dude who played James Bond. I can't remember his name and I don't care enough to look it up. Anyway, the movie was good, but a little weird. I think it's just difficult to blend any kind of different genre with a western and have it mesh seamlessly. Firefly is the only instance of sci-fi and western being completely successfully mixed that I know of! This wasn't bad at all, though. I mean, who knows, maybe aliens did visit earth in Wild West days. Think of all the cattle they could mutilate! :)
1) Bear had a vet appointment on Saturday with a new doctor. When Steve called to make the appointment, he was asked if he had a doctor preference and he said yes. When they asked if it was our regular vet, he said no and asked for the nice, blonde lady we had once. I didn't know this, of course, so I was in a state of pre-rage over having to face that condescending heifer we normally go to. I know, I know, I shouldn't say things like that, but seriously, whenever we go to the vet I get that "First-Day-of-School" feeling in my stomach because I don't want to go and have to sit there while the vet talks to us like we're children. But I digress. When Steve told me we were going to see the blonde vet, I was glad, because even though we've only seen her one time, we really liked her a lot and she genuinely seems to enjoy working with the dogs (even when they act like butt-heads). I felt kind of sneaky, coming in to see a different vet, but I figured since it was Saturday, the regular vet would never know! Bear's visit went fine, except that he's fat, but we made it through the entire visit without being talked down to or me flying into a rage and wanting to yank off the vet's arms, wookie-style. I thought we were home free, until we stepped out of the examining room and the vet we don't like was sitting there. I felt like I'd been caught cheating on her or something. I wanted to step up to her and yell "YOU NEVER GAVE ME WHAT I NEEDED! YOU NEVER TREATED ME RIGHT! I HAD TO GO TO GO ELSEWHERE! IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!" Of course, I didn't. Coward that I am, I took the dog to the car while Steve payed and filled out paperwork so I wouldn't have to stand there in the cone of shame. Oh, well. It was definitely her, not me.
2) I think I linked to this a couple of years ago, but I'm going to do it again, just in case I didn't. I realize that most people won't enjoy looking at these like I do, but the Tennessee Sampler Survey has been taking up my internet time recently. It's a site dedicated to documenting and preserving needlework heritage from Tennessee. The samplers (or cross stitch/embroidery pictures for those who aren't down with the lingo, heh) are almost all by young women who were in Female Academies in Tennessee in the early 19th Century. Those are schools for women where they learned to be ladies, and to learn things ladies needed to know how to do! I imagine they were like high schools where almost every class is home ec. Most of the samplers can be proven to be from Tennessee, and since the names and dates were on most of them, the people who made them can be traced and a bit of information about the person is included with each sampler. I like these because they weren't meant to be put in a museum or anything, and they are very personal to each girl who made them. Basically, it was just a piece of homework they had, so they show different quirks and tastes from different parts of Tennessee. I wish there were something like this from the female academies of Alabama. It's funny to me that stuff like this was once taught in schools for girls, but then again, I guess young southern women in the early 1800s weren't exactly looking to become doctors and engineers. They were most probableh tryin' to catch a husband, and you had to know how to do these things to be a propaaah lady. Heeheehee.
3) Over the past two days, I have found two giant roaches in our house. I hate roaches. I hate them. When I see them, my skin crawls and all I want to do is sit in a very clean, empty room where I can see every inch of the floor around me. I had to dispose of them myself, because both times Steve hasn't been available to get them for me. I think they're only inside because it's been so hot outside, and because of the deluge of rain we got on Saturday, and because it's almost time for the exterminator to come, so I'm hoping that they go away after the bug man cometh on Thursday, but I've got to live here until then. I've now been inspired to go into every room and box up anything that is on the floor, sterilize the house, spray poison on every inch of baseboard, and set fire to the whole thing. Seriously, and I don't care how sissy this sounds to you, but after the one I found this morning, Steve was late for work because he had to calm me down. I went fetal. If I'm ever in a place where the cockroaches fly or hiss, I will not survive.
4) Steve and I went to see Cowboys and Aliens this weekend, and I liked it a lot! It wasn't the greatest movie ever, but it was fun and Harrison Ford was in it! Also, that last British dude who played James Bond. I can't remember his name and I don't care enough to look it up. Anyway, the movie was good, but a little weird. I think it's just difficult to blend any kind of different genre with a western and have it mesh seamlessly. Firefly is the only instance of sci-fi and western being completely successfully mixed that I know of! This wasn't bad at all, though. I mean, who knows, maybe aliens did visit earth in Wild West days. Think of all the cattle they could mutilate! :)
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