Month: April 2006

Best comment thread EVER. My god in heaven, I adore reading about peoples’ bad work experiences, maybe because I didn’t really have all that many in my youth (one time two managers at McDonald’s fucked with me by ordering “Prune danishes and a shit shake” at the drive-up (where I couldn’t see them) and I came thisclose to telling them to go fuck themselves, but luckily didn’t ’cause I think I would have gotten in trouuuuuble). I also adore reading about peoples’ awful in-laws, probably because my in-laws (both those I had during my first marriage and my current in-laws) were nothin’ to bitch about.

* * * I was on the phone with my sister on Saturday – it was a family-talkin’ kind of weekend; I talked to my sister on Saturday, then my sister, my brother, and my mother on Sunday – when I heard the call waiting beep. I told her I had to get the call (I could see by the caller ID that it was the spud, who was on her way to the mall, calling from her cell phone), and hung up with her. Only, I took too long to hang up and by the time I tried to pick up the call from the spud voicemail had picked up and all I got was a dial tone. Thus began a three-minute zany extravaganza wherein I’d call her and her cell phone would go directly to voicemail, then I’d call again and the phone would ring four times before the voicemail picked up, then I’d try again and it’d go directly to voicemail, et cetera. Finally she answered the phone, and told me that someone had hit her. I didn’t even think to ask if anyone’d gotten hurt (obviously SHE was fine, ’cause she’d answered the phone) and told her to hang up, and I’d call her back. I called Fred, who’d gone hiking, on his cell phone, and asked him what I should tell her to do. (See various entries I’ve written wherein I said that I’m bad in an emergency) He asked me a few questions I couldn’t answer, then said he’d call her himself. A minute later he called back and said “She’s not answering her phone.” I told him to hang on, that I’d call her and have her call him. Thus began another extravaganza wherein I called her cell phone, got voicemail, hung up, called again, got voicemail, etc. until she finally picked up. “Sorry!” she said perkily. “I was talking to [her best friend]!” “Call Fred,” I said. “Okay,” she said. A few minutes later Fred called me back. “Neither she nor the other guy had called the police! She said they don’t know HOW TO!” “So what’d you tell her?” “To call 1-411 and ask for the Huntsville police non-emergency number!” “Probably it wouldn’t be a bad idea for her to program the numbers for the Huntsville and Madison police departments into her cell phone just in case,” I said. “Good point,” he said. We talked for a few more minutes, and then he hung up, saying “I’m almost where she is. I’ll see you in a while.” When he got home, he showed me the picture of my car and the other guy’s car. The other guy’s car. Fred said it looked a lot worse before the guy who owns the car got up on the hood and straightened it out some. Mine. The back bumper will probably need to be replaced. Apparently the spud was approaching a red light and was slowing down, and the guy rear-ended her. At least this time, unlike the time she scraped the car alongside the mailbox, it wasn’t her fault. “I’m thinking we should have probably just bought her a beater to drive instead of letting her drive MY car,” I told Fred. “Good point,” he said. Poor E’gar. I’d originally planned to pay off the car in the next year, then stash each months’ payment into savings for the next two years, so that I’d have a hefty down payment on a new car when E’gar was four or five years old. At this rate, I’m not sure he’s going to LIVE that long. * * * On an up note, the spud and her best friend found a prom dress (for the spud) at the mall in about an hour. She modeled it for us when she got home, and it is ADORABLE. I didn’t get a picture at the time, though, so y’all will have to wait a few days to see it. Trust me when I say it was a very good choice, though. * * * We watched Narnia Saturday night, and I thought it was really, really good. Fred thought it dragged a bit – I didn’t think it did at all – and the spud only sat through about half an hour of it before she went back upstairs. Of course, I don’t remember a thing at all about the book, since I only read it once as a kid. Fred has all the Narnia books, so I may read them at some point in the near future. * * * Currently reading: Close Range, by Annie Proulx. I just started Brokeback Mountain (the short story), and suddenly I’m understanding more about the movie. For instance, at one point during the movie Fred and I said “I don’t see why they don’t just go camp out with the sheep…”, and while reading the book I find out that they couldn’t, that no one was supposed to be camping with the sheep and Jack was doing it on the sly. Turns out Randy Quaid’s character explained that all at the very beginning, only I could only understand about every sixth word he said. So far, it’s good. I’ve found, as I’ve read through the book, that at the beginning of each short story I think “Oh, I don’t give a shit about this character, maybe I should just skip this story…” but within a few paragraphs I’m hooked. The only other Annie Proulx book I’ve read in the past was The Shipping News, and if I recall correctly I didn’t much care for it. I might give another of her short-story books a try, though. * * * Far too important and busy to stop and smell the flowers. “Come here, darling. I won’t scratch your eyes out with my claws and tear your throat out with my teeth, I PROMISE.” The look on his face cracks me up. Here, here’s a closeup: All of today’s uploaded pictures are here. * * * Previously 2005: No entry. 2004: No entry. 2003: Questions answered. 2002: No entry. 2001: Spring cleaning. 2000: Let’s just say our mother was not pleased.]]>

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Holy crap! It’s already April 7th! Where the hell has the time gone??

* * * Someone – or possibly several someones – have lately been doing site searches that lead me to believe you’re looking for information on where your Mia donation went so you can write it off on your taxes. If you email me, I’ll send you the email address and telephone number for the shelter manager who runs the shelter (where the Mia donations went) and you can inquire about getting a receipt for your taxes. * * * Thanks, all of you, for your hair advice. I think at this point I’m going to wait and see if my hair starts falling out from the surgery before I decide whether to cut it short or not. In the meantime, I’ll make an appointment to see my doctor (one of these days…) to discuss the thyroid stuff with her, and I’ll give Biotin a try. I’m very strongly leaning toward going short for the summer, though. No matter what I decide, I’m going to get tired of it in a few months and want to do the exact opposite, anyway. You know how some men grow beards over the winter, then shave them for the summer? I should start going short in the summer and spending the rest of the year growing it out! Hmm. Maybe I should just go back to this hair style, only a little shorter (scroll down a bit). I wonder why I stopped liking that hairstyle? I must have gotten bored and decided to grow it out. Good point, those of you who suggested that Halle Berry probably didn’t roll out of bed with her hair like that. I’m going to be more interested in something I can scrub in the shower, put a little product in, and then go, without having to spend a lot of time styling. Hell, I can barely stand the boredom of drying my hair halfway dry now – if you start adding in actually needing to “style” it and use curling irons on it, well, THAT ain’t gonna happen. Also, if you’re wondering why I edited the picture so you could only see half my face, it’s ’cause I haven’t had the ‘stache waxed in months, and I didn’t want to give anyone nightmares. I’m going to make an appointment for next week at a place in Huntsville that does laser hair removal. I’ve been putting it off way too long, and it’s time to get moving. Not enough hair on my head, too much hair on my face. You WISH you were me. * * * Oh! And someone mentioned that she was surprised to see the color of my hair, because she thought it was reddish. Actually, it tends to start out dark and kind of fades to a reddish color in the five weeks between coloring because I am apparently horribly rough on my hair. Probably if I used shampoo and conditioner made for colored hair, or stopped shampooing every day (which I did for a while last year, but then my scalp started breaking out, so I went back to shampooing every day) it wouldn’t fade so badly. * * * Time to go back on the pill – it’s been 2 1/2 weeks since my last period ended, and I’m bleeding again. GRRRR. * * * My current guilty pleasure, tv-wise, is Real Housewives of Orange County. I find it oddly fascinating, although I cannot for the life of me keep the three blondes straight. And Jo, the young fiancee, is perhaps not the brightest bulb in the lamp, but she’s adorable. Seriously, she was shopping for tennis clothes, and a tennis… guy – instructor? – said “Who bought you this racket?” and she said “My fiance did!”, and the guy said “Is he out to lunch, or what?” and she said “What do you mean? Does he eat out a lot?” And PERHAPS she was just pretending to be dumb, but she sure did look serious. And then the guy said something about a “junior racket”, and she said “Like a Junior in high school?”, and again she appeared to be completely serious. Although, her fiance did say that she was from Peru (though I have detected no sign of an accent), so if she grew up elsewhere maybe that explains it? I don’t know – all I know is that (a) I can’t stop watching it and (b) If Jo and Slade don’t break up pretty soon, I’m going to be very surprised. I don’t think I like that guy. * * * From my comments: did Fred paint the office a grayish color? Can you tell me what color that is? Hubby and I have been looking for a gray in our office – and I like how nice yours looks with the white molding! It’s actually more of a bluish gray, and I reallllly like it. He picked the color himself, and I think he did one hell of a job. It’s American Tradition Valspar, Blue Twilight, 5001-1C, and you can see another picture of the room here. Hey Robyn, does Netflix have a referral reward program? They do, but it’s a pain in the ass to sign up for, so I’m not gonna. My reward is that I talked you into joining with all my raving about how cool Netflix is (or so I’d like to think!). where did you get your refurbished ipod? I got it directly from Apple – I probably could have gotten it for less on eBay, but when it comes to electronics, I prefer to buy directly from the source, just to be safe – here’s the link. BobPod is blue, for the record, and I think he’s beeeeeeeautiful. * * * Currently reading: Close Range, by Annie Proulx. Finished late last night: The Lincoln Lawyer, by Michael Connelly. Excellent book – I was hoping Bosch would make a cameo, but he didn’t. Finished before that: Match Me If You Can, by Susan Elizabeth Phillips. You always know what you’re going to get with a Susan Elizabeth Phillips book – sassy girl, obstinate man (or vice versa), and you can count on a sweet, happy ending. I love Susan Elizabeth Phillips. * * * “I’m hungry, but I am also a finicky eater. Will this blade of grass be tender yet flavorful? Small yet filling?” Who needs dogs when you’ve got cats who’ll chase balls? Such a pretty boy. All of today’s uploaded pictures can be seen here. * * * Previously 2005: Off to Gatlinburg. 2004: Our palates are too immature, I suppose. 2003: Now I know why, when the camera and sound guy were setting up and I chirped “Oh, is this the camera that’s going to make me look like Ashley Judd?”, everyone laughed so hard. 2002: No entry. 2001: No entry. 2000: Then he and the spud went swimming yesterday, since the pool’s up to a sultry 66. ]]>

Olympus Stylus 800 digital camera, because it’s 8 megapixels instead of 7.2. After using it, he’s decided he likes his current camera more, because it’s smaller and fits in his pocket better. But he threw the receipt away, and can’t return the camera. So, if any of you are interested in getting an almost brand new 8 megapixel camera for $300 (that includes shipping), let me know. First come, first served.

* * * You may or may not have noticed that this week my entries are going up later in the day. That’s ’cause I’ve started turning off my computer at night and won’t allow myself to turn it on in the morning until after I’ve exercised, showered, and done some housework. It’s amazing, the amount of shit you can get done in a day when you’re not plopped on your ass in front of the computer. Who knew? I don’t expect this self-discipline to last forever, but hopefully at least for the next few weeks until I can get this damn house whipped into shape. * * * Yesterday was a busy errand-running day for me. I had a hair appointment at 9, left there at 10:45, went to Sam’s, the grocery store, and then got home around noon. The hair appointment was okay, but I am in despair over my hair. As in, I am not fond of my current hairstyle, but I don’t know what I want to do about it. This is me, currently: (Shaddup, I know I need to do SOMETHING about my freakin’ eyebrows) And I just don’t like it much. My hair is already pretty thin from the thyroid issues, and I’m freaking out about the possibility of losing even more hair in the coming months due to the surgery. Now, when it comes to thinning hair I think that some people are under the impression that growing out your hair and kind of teasing the top of it will hide a multitude of sins, but I am here to tell you that I’ve seen a woman with very thin hair, and it’s long and teased on the top and all that serves to do is draw your eye to the scalp that is clearly visible under the teased hair. Now, I’m sure I’d rather be skinny and bald than fat and hairified, but what I’d MUCH prefer to be is skinny and hairified, thanks. So anyways, I’ve been looking at hairstyles ever since I knew I was going to have the surgery, and what I’ve heard – and what kind of makes sense if you think about it – is to get a ‘do with short layers. And I’ve found a hairstyle I really like and so I saved the picture to my hard drive so I can think about it, and the more I look at it, the more I think I like it, but I can’t quite take the next step to actually have my hairchick cut my hair like that. Oh, I don’t knowwwwwww. I know y’all have opinions on the subject, share ’em with me! What I really ought to do is chop all my hair off and buy me a Dolly Parton wig. Can’t beat $19.95! * * * Actually, I just spent half an hour online looking up “hair loss” and “synthroid”, and found that 1) Possibly I need a T3/ T4 drug combination instead of a standalone T4 and 2) (And I know someone mentioned this to me in the past) They’re thinking now that a higher dose of Synthroid might be the way to go because – and I quote – In the 1960s it was textbook material after 70 years of experience using thyroid that a dose below 180 mg of desiccated thyroid could not be measured clinically or in the laboratory. In other words it was without effect. The approximate equivalent dose of synthroid or thyroxine (T4) would be about 180 micrograms. Maybe I should just suck it up and make an appointment with my doctor to discuss hair loss issues and the shit I’ve found online (I KNOW doctors have got to LOVE the internet. How many times do you suppose they hear “I was looking around on the internet and….” and just cringe?). I could have her look at the ugly mole on the back of my neck while she’s at it! * * * Who needs a lawnmower when you have a Sugarbutt? I imagine that when Miz Poo woke up and realized she was snuggling with Tommy, there was a serious smackdown. “How YOU doin’?” All of today’s uploaded pictures are hither. * * * Previously 2005: I think that a more accurate description would be “covered the annoyance of itching by making your skin feel as though you’re being set on fire.” 2004: Meme. 2003: No entry. 2002: No entry. 2001: No entry. 2000: Fred’s such a bastard.]]>

Oh, how I really, really, REALLY liked Brokeback Mountain, to my great relief. I didn’t out-and-out sob at any point during the movie, but I did tear up many times. I tried, last night, to convince Fred to drive across the country this summer, stopping in Mooreland, Indiana (Zippy country) and ending up at Brokeback Mountain. Which is when he told me there IS no Brokeback Mountain. Damn it! I’ve never uttered this sentence before in my entire life, but last night I said it for the first time: “I’d love to visit Wyoming someday.” So pretty! Such a good movie. I might even have to buy it. Also, now that I’ve seen the movie, I can read the book of short stories – if I have a book and I know the movie’s coming out, I try not to read the book, because I tend to sit through the movie waiting for whatever I know is going to happen, to happen – and I’m looking forward to it. So, two thumbs up to Brokeback Mountain. Tell me what you thought about it (it’s okay if you didn’t like it – you’re ALLOWED your opinion. It just means you hate me. (kidding!)) in the comments, eh? PS: I was occasionally distracted by the fact that Heath Ledger’s accent sometimes crossed the line into Slingblade territory. PPS: Fred laughed out loud when, near the beginning of the movie, Jake Gyllenhaal was drinking some kind of hard liquor and I primly said “Hard liquor is the first stop on the train to Gaysville.” PPPS: NO, I don’t really believe that.

* * * Stolen from Janet. 1. When you looked at yourself in the mirror today, what was the first thing you thought? “I really need to remember to apply sunblock before I go outside in the morning.” (My forehead is getting pretty freckly) 2. When is the next time you will have sex? I don’t believe that’s any of your bidness. 3. What’s a word that rhymes with “DOOR”? Floor. 4. Favorite planet? I’ve always been partial to Mars. 5. Who is the 4th person on your missed call list on your mobile? My brother, who called… I don’t know, three weeks ago? Unfortunately at the time my phone was in the bottom of my purse and I didn’t hear it. 6. What is your favorite ring on your phone? I love the “O Holy Night” as sung by South Park’s Cartman I downloaded at Christmas. Currently my default ring is just the sound of a telephone ringing. 7. What shirt are you wearing? An ugly lime-green shirt. 9. Name the brand of shoes you’re currently wearing? They’re Easy Spirit slippers. 10. Bright or Dark Room? Bright, unless I’m trying to watch a movie or go to sleep. 11. What do you think about the person who took this survey before you? She’s so cute I want to stick her in my pocket and carry her around with me. (I won’t, though, Janet. Really I won’t!) 12. Hey Janet? Where’d #12 go? 13. What were you doing at midnight last night? Sleeping, or fending off the advances of a little orange kitty who was desperate to lick my neck. 14. What did your last text message you received on your mobile say? I don’t have a clue – I don’t know if I’ve ever gotten a text message on this cell phone. I’m not much of a text-er. 15. Where is your letter box? By the street. 16. What’s a word that you say a lot? “Huh?” 17.Who told you he/she loved you last? Fred, I’m sure. 18. Last furry thing you touched? Sugarbutt’s stomach. 19. How many drugs have you done in the last three days? Uh… zero? Unless you’re counting multi-vitamins, iron, B12, calcium, Synthroid, and Metoprolol in the “drugs” category. 20. How many rolls of film do you need to get developed? None. I can’t remember the last time I used a film camera. 21. Favorite age you have been so far? I kind of liked 28, but I suspect the best is yet to come. 22. Your worst enemy? Myself. 23. What is your current desktop picture? A picture I took when I was in Hawaii. 24. What was the last thing you said to someone? “I got Rent for you; it’s on the desk by the door.” (to the spud) 25. If you had to choose between a million dollars, able to fly, which would you choose? The ability to fly. I’m sure – unless I was kidnapped by the government so they could do extensive and painful tests on me – I could earn a million bucks with my ability to fly. Even if I couldn’t, I’d still choose it. 26. Do you like someone? What, are we in middle school? I like lots of people, but I only LIKE LIKE one. 27. The last song you listened to? Settle for a Slowdown, by Dierks Bentley. 28. If the last person you spoke to was getting shot at, would you jump in front of the bullet? I hope so – I’m not too great in a crisis, though, so by the time the thought occurred to me to jump in front of the bullet, the CSI team might be showing up. 29. If you could punch 1 person in the face who’s in your life right now, who would it be? Chloe Sevigny. Granted, she’s not so much “in my life”, but she’s the one person on earth I’d lunch to punch in the face, because her face DRIVES ME CRAZY. 30. What is the closest object to your left foot? The space heater. Shaddup, it might be in the 70s outside, but it’s still cold inside sometimes. * * * Pet store kitty pics from Monday are here. * * * An up side to having a teen who drives is that you can send her to do errands for you. In fact, I think she’s gone and gotten the majority of the CSI DVDs we’re working our way through. Also, I can make a lab appointment for her – and she can drive HERSELF. I don’t even have to leave the couch. Two thumbs up for the driving teen. Speaking of the spud, she’s decided to go to prom this year with friends, and this weekend she and her best friend are going to meet up at the mall to shop for a prom dress. Which means I don’t have to do any of that pesky “shopping” I dislike so much. I do need to call and schedule an appointment for the day of prom so she can get herself an updo, though. * * * There was something else I was going to write about, but I’ll be damned if I can remember what it was. If anyone sees my brain wandering by, please send it in my direction, would you? Thanks. * * * “That wild onion is REALLY getting on my freakin’ nerves, man.” “Dad? Whatcha got there? Is that the flashy thing that Mom’s always pointing at me?” I apologize for showing you a picture of my cat’s asshole*, but this picture cracks me UP. According to Fred, Tommy was coming to a sudden stop. *I think “the cat’s asshole” should become a popular new insult. It pairs nicely with the phrase “the cat’s pajamas.” For instance: “Bob, what do you think of the new guy and his wife?” “Oh, the wife is the cat’s pajamas. The new guy, though, he’s more like the cat’s asshole. I can’t stand that guy.” All of today’s cat pictures were taken by Fred. You can see all of today’s uploaded pictures hither. * * * Previously 2005: I had no idea that leaving the top of the washstand bare meant that you didn’t appreciate the washstand. 2004: (Yeah, yeah, cry you a river. I know. Bite me.) 2003: No entry. 2002: Apparently Fancypants’ evil twin (except that I’m sure Fancypants is actually the evil one) now lives in our neighborhood. 2001: No entry. 2000: I guess there’ll be no physical fisticuffs for me to go break up. ]]>

Brokeback Mountain comes out today, and I’ll be getting it in the mail from Netflix when the mail comes later. I am VERY EXCITED to know that I’ll be watching it tonight. Of course, the fact that I’m this excited pretty much guarantees that it’s going to suck.

* * * “What,” Fred said from his spot in front of his computer, “Is that NOISE?” “I don’t know,” I said absentmindedly from my spot in front of my computer. “It almost sounds like a weed whacker,” he said. “Yeah, but it sounds like it’s coming from inside the house.” “The CALL is coming from INSIDE THE HOUSE!” Fred said, and then got up to see what the noise was. “Oh shit,” he said a second later. “What?” “He’s got a bird!” Fred said, and then I heard the noise of a cat thumping up the stairs with Fred running close behind. I got up and went to the bottom of the stairs. From the top of the stairs, I heard the sound of Fred yelling at Mister Boogers, then running back and forth, and I yelled up helpful things like “Is it a baby?” and “Is it a cardinal?”, and Fred answered my questions in the affirmative as he chased the now-free bird. Eventually, he came downstairs with the bird in his hands. “How am I supposed to let him go?” he asked. I went into the living room, calling “Just open the door and open your hands, and he’ll fly away!” I resisted the urge to break into song (He’ll fly away, Oh Glory/ He’ll fly away; (in the morning)/ When he dies, Hallelujah, by and by/ he’ll fly away (he’ll fly away). I’d just reached out to open the back door when I heard Fred swear again. “What?” I said. “He got away!” Fred said, and I could hear the sound of a pissed-off baby cardinal squawking and taking flight, then hitting the wall. Then taking flight and hitting the wall. Then taking flight and hitting the wall. I went into the dining room to see Fred trying to chase down the cardinal and hold Mister Boogers back at the same time. And I knew I had two choices – I could try to help, in which case Fred would bitch at me for getting in the way, or I could stand back and observe, in which case Fred would bitch at me for not helping. “Could you give me some HELP here?” he snapped, pushing Mister Boogers back for the tenth time. “I need some gloves or something!” I went into the kitchen and got gloves from under the sink, handed them to Fred, and then picked Mister Boogers up and held onto him so he couldn’t go after the bird again. “Brrrrrrrrrrp!” Mister Boogers said with great displeasure. Fred finally got hold of the bird and I went into the living room and opened the back door for him. (That sounds kind of dirty, doesn’t it?) Fred stepped outside, opened his hands… and the bird just sat there. Apparently he’d stunned his tiny brain and was in a state of shock. He just sat in Fred’s hand for the longest time, and after a few minutes, Fred started petting him, and I’ll be damned if the bird didn’t seem to kind of like it. Around Fred’s feet, the cats swarmed, looking up and trying to figure out what exactly The Daddy was holding in his hand that smelled so damn good. We eventually shooed the cats inside and shut the cat door. They watched us unhappily from the other side of the windows as we stood and looked at the bird. Fred finally walked over to the bird feeder and set the bird in the feeder. The bird sat there and regarded Fred with some confusion. Fred took off his gloves and held out his hand to see if the bird would hop back on his hand. The bird did. The bird went back into the feeder for a while, and then Fred tried to get it to hop on his hand and stand on one finger, but apparently the bird had other plans. It took off and flew for a short distance, then landed on the ground and happily hopped around, occasionally peeping. We decided to leave him alone for a little while, and about half an hour later, we looked out to find him gone. Fred walked around the yard to make sure he wasn’t hopping around anywhere, didn’t see him, and we opened the cat door back up so the cats could go outside and perhaps bring us another bird. A bird in the house is a definite sign that spring is here. * * * So remember last week when I had a temper tantrum about how it was going to be just too fucking expensive to carpet the living room and how much I hated the Berber carpet and how I hate everything, WAHHHHHHHHHH? Turns out Fred – who majored in MATH in college – figured it out wrong, and it ended up that it was going to be much less than we’d originally thought. So he called the carpet store and made an appointment to have a guy come out and do an estimate for us, and – just for shits and giggles – we had him give us an estimate on replacing the carpet on the stairs as well (of course, I’d much prefer to have the stairs hardwooded, but that’d just be too damn much money to spend on a house we’ll be selling in a year), and when the cost of carpeting the stairs and the living room was added together, it ended up being something we could live with. So they’re coming next Monday to carpet the living room AND the stairs, and I’ve already told the spud that I will beat her six ways to Sunday if she EVER tromps on the newly carpeted stairs with her shoes on, because I’ll be damned, after living with those ugly stains on the carpeted stairs (said stains were actually caused by people who looked through the house when it was up for sale before we bought it), if she’s going to stain up the new carpet. AND not only are we getting new carpet in the living room and on the stairs, but Fred’s going to paint the living room next Sunday – the same color it is now, only all the ugly stains and dings will gone – and I am VERY MUCH excited. Yeah, I need a life. Shaddup. Someone mentioned in my comments last week that I should think about getting an area rug for the living room and leaving the Berber carpet, since it would add to the resale value of the house. I would actually consider that, except that the Berber carpet is so stained and ugly (the cats have pulled up loops of the carpet in a couple of places) that there’s no way it would add to the resale value. Between Fred and the cats, iced tea has stained the carpet by his couch so badly that it’ll never come out. * * * Tommy in the back yard. Pissy Boog. Miz Poo whines annoyingly. Oh, how the Sug cracks me up. (Fred took most – if not all – of the pictures in today’s entry.) All of today’s uploaded pictures are here. * * * Previously 2005: E’gar comes home. 2004: No entry. 2003: “Hi. What R U doing to loose weight and how much weight have U lost?” 2002: Burned fucking beans. 2001: No entry. 2000: Diane Sawyer is so uncomfortable around kids, it’s laughable. ]]>

new logo! This one was created by the wonderful Amy. Thanks, Amy! I know y’all loved last month’s logo, and I did too, so don’t worry, you’ll be seeing it again in the future.

* * * Since April Fool’s Day fell on a Saturday this year, I didn’t have a chance to attempt an April Fool’s joke on y’all. It’s okay, though, I suppose – I don’t think I could possibly outdo last year’s entry. * * * I discovered this weekend (Sunday, to be exact) that if I keep my ass off the couch, I tend to actually get things accomplished around the house. Saturday I spent all freakin’ day on the couch watching Netflix discs (a couple of Sex and the City, Season… 4? I think?, Memoirs of a Geisha, Shelter Island (SPOILER: Ally Sheedy deserved to die at the end of that movie, because the hair OH MY GOD the HAIR, was the worst hairstyle I’ve seen in my entire life. Ugh.), and then Sunday I got out of bed at 8:00 (which was REALLY 7:00!), ate breakfast, and Fred and I loaded up the car (“Fred and I” meaning “Fred”) and headed out for Decatur to do some kayaking. The kayaking went pretty well, considering that it was only the third time I’ve ever actually been in the kayak. I did try to adjust the way I was sitting at one point – while we were many feet from shore – and the right side of the kayak went very low and some water spilled in, so I learned not to shimmy back and forth too much while sitting in the kayak. We toodled around in our respective kayaks for an hour or so, and I got a little sunburned because Fred didn’t want to stop and pick up some sunblock. I think he WANTS me to get skin cancer. (Okay, that’s a lie – he suggested stopping and picking up some sunblock, and I said “Well, we’re not going to be out that long, we’ll be fine.”, so it’s all my fault.) The water where we were – Fred calls it “Where the holes are”, you can read a better description of the area here – was only about three feet deep at the deepest, but it was an ugly brown and despite the shallowness of the water it wasn’t possible to see the bottom, and fish kept popping up out of the water and startling me, not to mention the many turtles who eyeballed us from a distance. “If I fall out of the kayak,” I said to Fred, “You won’t have to worry about me getting stuck in the mud, ’cause I’ll run across the surface of the water all the way to the car. This water is CREEPY.” “Really?” he said, surprised. “Yes indeed,” I said. Anyway, we paddled our way under the bridge (very cool – there were many swallows’ nests underneath the bridge) and stopped by the old highway that is surrounded by water (I guess it was a highway when Fred’s dad was a kid, then they built something better) so Fred could walk around on it (apparently something he’s been dreaming about since he was a kid, because he dreams BIG) and then we paddled around some more. When we were a good distance from the car and had been out in the water for about an hour, Fred said “Are you ready to head back to the car?” I said “Yes”, and that was all she wrote. He started paddling like the hounds of hell were after him. Finally, when he was about half a mile ahead of me, I yelled “HEY!” He stopped and looked at me. “You want to slow the fuck down?” I yelled. “Sorry,” he said. We got back to where we’d parked the car, and I waited while Fred got out of his kayak and came over to help me out of mine. “Can you do the straddle thing?” he asked. I’d gotten into the kayak by standing with a leg on either side of the kayak, then sitting down and folding my legs into the kayak with me. I pulled my legs out of the kayak and tried to put my feet on the ground, but since I have short and stubby legs, it wasn’t happening. “I’ve got the kayak,” he said. “Can you just swing your legs over to one side and get out?” For a moment I thought it was going to happen, then I realized I was too low and just wasn’t going to be able to stand up, even with help. Of course, I didn’t manage to realize this soon enough, and I ended up half-on the side of the kayak, with my ass dangling in the water. Fred was no help, because he was standing there laughing his ass off. “Okay, wait,” I said, and ended up going onto one knee in the water, then pushing myself up from there. I ended up mostly wet from the ass down, but at least I was out of the kayak. All in all it went pretty well. I might not be ready to do the Ocoee yet, but we’re going to take the kayaks out again next Saturday, maybe for a little longer this time. I suspect I might be ready to join the Olympic kayaking team in time for the 2008 summer Olympics. (I didn’t bring the camera this time, but I’m definitely going to next week!) Anyway, instead of ending up on the couch while Fred went for a hike, I stayed OFF the couch and vacuumed the entire house (including the garage!), paid bills, and… well really, that’s all. But the vacuuming and bill-paying desperately needed to be done, so I was glad to have it done and over with. * * * Currently reading: Match Me If You Can, by Susan Elizabeth Phillips. I was actually supposed to read The Lincoln Lawyer next, but after finishing the very long and intense Turning Angel by Greg Iles, I decided I needed something a little lighter, so I picked Match Me If You Can off a lower shelf. I’m enjoying it so far – I always enjoy Susan Elizabeth Phillips’ books – and it’s definitely what the doctor ordered. The Greg Iles book was good, though it maybe dragged on a little longer than it needed to. * * * We watched King Kong Friday night. Fred absolutely loved it. I liked it well enough, but – and this is probably because I am so very pedestrian and unable to appreciate great art (rolllllling my eyes here) – I’m firmly of the opinion that if a story can’t be told in two hours or less, then it’s too long and bloated and needs to be edited the fuck down. I mean, look – my time is fucking precious, damnit, and I don’t need to be cooling my heels for over three hours to watch a story that could easily be told in two hours or less. I suggested to Fred that Peter Jackson is the Stephen King of the movie world – everyone’s too scared to edit him anymore, and he can definitely use it. Still, all in all, not a bad movie. * * * “OW! Mooooooooooooom, Tommy is hurrrrrrrrrrrrrrting me!” * * * Previously 2005: No entry. 2004: No entry. 2003: Nothing, by the way, pisses me off more than the crap that gets installed with the program you really want – Office 2000, I’m looking at you and your crappy Outlook friend. 2002: Mother Nature is getting ON MY NERVES. 2001: No entry. 2000: So if rainy days and Mondays always got me down, I guess I’d have been suicidal today.]]>