3/28/05

reading: Shoot the Moon. Finished over the weekend: The 37th Hour. Excellent book! I gave it 4 out of 5 smilies.

* * * Stolen from Amy. Accent None! Shaddup, I do NOT have a southern accent. Bra size Like I’m going to tell. Chore I hate Judging by how long I go between the times I do it, I’d say I hate dusting most of all, followed closely by cleaning the shower. Dad’s name Hugh. Essential make-up I only wear makeup on Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve, which is when we see Fred’s family. The rest of the year, I go au naturel. Favorite perfume I go through stages with other perfumes, but Sand & Sable is my perennial favorite. Gold or Silver Either. At the same time, even! Hometown Lisbon Falls, Maine (though I was born in Bangor, I consider Lisbon Falls to be my hometown). Interesting fact Job title Professional Couch Potato, Cat Wrangler, and the only person who throws away those GODDAMN pieces of paper and wrapping that OTHER PEOPLE like to leave on the counter. Kids Just the one. Living arrangements A house in the suburbs, shared with a husband, a teenage girl, and four troublesome cats. Mom’s Birthplace Brunswick, Maine. Number of apples eaten in last week Zilch. Overnight hospital stays One when I had the tumor removed from my knee, one when I had a c-section… and that’s it, actually. Oh, wait – I had my tonsils out, too, which necessitated an overnight stay. Phobia Talking on the phone to anyone other than the select few I’ve been talking to my entire life (my parents, my sister, Liz, and Fred); I mean, I can DO it, I just don’t like to. Also, spiders that jump because I KNOW THEY’RE AIMING FOR MY FACE. Question you ask yourself a lot “What the fuck?” Religious affiliation Eh. That’s right, I’m affiliated with The Church of Eh. Siblings Two older brothers, one younger sister. Time I wake up Depends on the day. Earlier this week I was up at 5:15 so I could exercise before an appointment. Usually during the week I get up around 8 (except Mondays, when I go to the pet store and get up around 7), and on the weekends I sleep in until 9. If I’m not up by around 9:05 on the weekends, Fred and the Booger come wake me up. Unnatural hair color It’s unnatural in that I have my hair colored every six weeks, but it looks natural. Someday I’m going to go blond, though. Vegetable I refuse to eat Beets. Beets are vegetables, right? I don’t know, they just look nasty. Worst habit Chewing my fingernails, popping my gum, scratching whatever itches, jumping to conclusions. I am classy. X-rays Too numerous to mention; I couldn’t even begin to list them all. Yummy food I make General Tsao’s Chicken, Pancit, Roasted Chick Peas, Rolo Cookies. Zodiac sign Capricorn! * * * You know, when I kept whining and moaning about how ready I was for Spring, what I failed to remember is that (a) Spring is tornado season and also rainy season and (b) the Bradford Pear trees that are planted every two and a half feet in my neighborhood fucking REEK when they’re in bloom. I walked outside the other day to get into my car, and I sniffed and thought to myself “God. Did someone have FISH for dinner or something?”, and then I sniffed again and thought “God. Did someone have a DECOMPOSING BODY for dinner or something?” and then I realized that the very distinctive 24-bodies-buried-in-the-backyard-and-decomposing smell was coming from the Bradford Pear tree next to our driveway. They’re pretty when they’re in bloom, but holy god does that smell make me want to rip my nose off. Back when I used to walk outside for exercise, there was a particular section of my walk where there were a LOT of Bradford Pear trees, and that happened to be near a scary section of woods, and every morning I’d walk by and think “My god, is there a dead animal back there, or what?”, and of course that line of thought graduated to “My god, is there a crazy person living back there and will he grab me when I’m not paying attention and cut my throat and scoop out my eyeballs with a spork and eat them, then throw my body on a big pile of decomposing bodies?”, and I’d pick up the pace, walking as fast as possible – almost running – while keeping a wary eye on the scary bit of woods to my right. And it wasn’t long before I changed my walking route around so that I never went by that scary patch of woods. Because there’s nothing worse than having your eyes scooped out with a spork when you’re not quite dead yet, believe you me. Even now that I know that that awful stench was less the smell of a pile of decomposing bodies and more the reek of Bradford Pear trees in bloom, I’ll have nothing to do with that patch of woods. Because there could still be a crazy spork-wielding psycho back there. You just never know. * * * Also, since Spring has started in earnest, we were inundated with ants for about a week. They were coming in under the back door and made for the kitchen, where they ended up on the kitchen counter and kind of wandered around, as if they knew there was food somewhere but they weren’t quite sure where. Until the day someone WHO IS NOT ME AND NOT THE SPUD made his snack and used the dishcloth to wipe up spilled food and yet did not rinse out the dishcloth when said food was wiped up, and when the spud went into the kitchen the next day? THOUSANDS (okay, maybe more like TENS) of ants were swarming all over the dishcloth. I squished as many of them as possible, and then sprayed ammonia and water all over the counter and scrubbed it down. There’s a spider who has a web located pretty close to the path the ants were taking to get into the kitchen, and the day after the swarm of ants on the dishcloth, I looked at the spiderweb to find at least twenty ant husks on the floor, and the spider was sitting at the back of his (or her) web, looking fat and happy. Apparently killing a shitload of ants and scrubbing down the counters with ammonia and water was what was needed, because it’s been three days and I haven’t seen a single ant since. At least until Fred made coffee yesterday and poured himself a cup to find that there were ants in his coffee. Serves him right. On the good side, at least they were those small ants and not the big fat ones. I hate those big ants, because they scare me a little. Also, they make a bigger mess when you squish them. * * * Look what Fred made in Paintshop Pro yesterday while I was out huffing and puffing on the elliptical: That’s my monitor and desk. Kind of cool, eh? * * * Fred’s father and stepmother came over Saturday night to watch a movie with us. Mostly they came because Fred’s father wanted to see the new setup with the high definition TV and everything. Fred showed them the Discovery High Definition channel for a while, then flipped back and forth between regular cable and high definition cable, and then put in Pearl Harbor to show off the sound system. They seemed impressed. Anyway, after we’d watched the movie – Cellular – and they were getting ready to leave, Fred’s stepmother pointed out that she’d left a small packet of pictures that she’d taken at Thanksgiving and Christmas. She takes horrible pictures of us (well, probably she doesn’t INTEND to take horrible pictures of us, they just turn out that way!) and then gives us copies of the pictures. There was a picture of Fred and I at the dinner table on Christmas Eve, and I looked horrific (Fred looked at the picture and laughed, so even though he said “You look fine, Bessie!”, I know and he knows that it was a particularly bad picture. I look like I’m trying to belch and have one hand clasped to my chest, and I’m kind of smirking, and just UGH. No, you may not see it.) but Fred looked particularly good. Doesn’t he look like he knows a secret and is just busting to tell someone? * * * Such a pretty Boog.]]>