Xmas

We started Xmas shopping yesterday.  It's going to be pretty modest. Something for a friend's toddler, something for a Max, something for Jon's Mom.  My parents' gift is going to be a drive down after New Year's Eve...and kinda my gift as well as its more expensive than in my parked four banger. We're feeding a V 6 as that is what is working at the moment.

Toddler gifts are easy.  He gets a couple cute books and a toddler size chair I found at the Salvation Army.  Had to deal with the legs as it only had feet on one side so it wasn't level, but I just ripped those off and taped over all the sharp bits on all four legs with electrical tape.  Nice and level now.  And one of the books has a ripped page but it was too cute with an actual story and nice illustrations that I really don't think it will matter.  It was obviously a much loved book.  The other book is just silly, full of colorful animals with googly eyes.

Jon's Mom was simple.  She got a few horrible movies, but her taste in movies leans  to the horrible.

Max is probably getting an Amazon gift card or some such.  I have no idea what 15 year old boys would like...or 15 year old in general.

The stores were predictably horrible.  It doesn't help that I work retail..  some woman yelled at a worker "Hey, Girl, how come this self check out don't work?"  That worker, being nicer than I would have been, fixed the machine.  I would just have walked away. Don't talk down to people if you want them to help you.

I heard someone call Crystal "Little Girl" a week ago.  She wasn't offended, but I would have been.  I would have educated that man.  Perhaps by referring to him as "Old Hilbilly."  Hey, as long as we're calling each other by obvious physical attributes.

Mid December

Currently, there is snow.  I not so happily scraped 3 inches off the porch.  It is still snowing.
Non Exploder Jeep needs a belt and water pump which has left us stranded for a few days. Ed is busy and not in love with the prospect of snowy cold and working on a cooling system when we don't have a garage.  Hopefully he will still do this even though we will have to drive squealing Jeep to the in law's house, evict Exploder Jeep and work there.  If not, I guess my friend Jess is willing to help us do it ourselves...or I can stay with Ruth until things get sorted.

Santa the UPS man was here.  I now have much bleaching powder and developer.  I doused a bit of my hair and am a bit more ginger than I would like.  Never fear.  I will likely (once I can get to a store) buy some purple shampoo to tone it down.  Plans are to dye it purple, but I should wait until after the holidays and inventory as this is against the dress code for work.  Says nothing about being a ginger, though.  At least it isn't clown orange.  The other solution is to re bleach, but since I don't wish to fry my hair, that will wait a while.

I also got this nifty little razor comb and gave myself a haircut.  Not bad for a 6 dollar disposable thing...I will buy another when it dulls.  Much easier to thin out my sporadically thick spots.

I am waiting on Jon to come home.  Hoping we can borrow a car to go buy some groceries as our supplies are very low and I am hungry.  We didn't need many things last week so did not buy much.  Should have, I suppose.

We are planning on seeing my parents after the New Year.  Hope the weather cooperates.  Seems like a really early cold and snow this year.  Lots of years there is no snow until after the New Year.  I also hope all mechanical and electronic things cooperate as 2013 has been horrid on cars and computers for us.

I am writing this on a touch screen and I very much hate auto correct and touch screens.  Give me a nice old fashioned keyboard any day.

And so It Continues

Taking another stab at buying a used Jeep.  First attempt didn't go so well, but wasn't the end of the world, until...we wrecked my Cobalt.  Have since put 2000 or so miles on a Jeep that gets no oil to the top of the engine due to a bad main seal....and, let me tell you, she sounds pretty awful. 

So we now own a red 2001 Jeep as well as the black.  Red has a better engine. Black has a nicer body. Red has nicer tires. And so it goes.  If nothing else, we can always drop Red's engine into Black's body if we chose to do so sometime down the road. Ed said direct engine swap $400.

Really, I just want my car back.  I miss the 30 miles per gallon. A LOT.  Black jeep is getting 10, which is half of what it should be getting, but since we have to put it in neutral at lights and hammer down on the accelerator to build up oil pressure...its not much of a shock.


Work blows so far this week. Yes, I realize it IS MONDAY....but really, when you spend half the day arguing with a magazine/book rep that, yeah, the BUYBACKS come from CORPORATE and I REALLY CAN'T just add random books to it because you WANT me to..I'm just ready to send the damn books back without talking to her anymore.  I have to SEND back the BOOKS ON THE BUYBACK. Not other books. Not pig feed. Those EXACT items. Nothing more, nothing less.  So by the end of my day tomorrow, the damn things are going out UPS one way or another.  Fuck you lady.  I know you are trying to do your job, but in doing your job you seem to be trying to get me fired.

Also it is nasty windy cold.  And, of course, the storm the other week blew away all my signage and we have no more out door sleeves...so I had to just red out door tag the shit out of stuff.  Also I get to count Quad 5 this week...meaning the side lot. I spend some of my day today counting about half of it so I won't have to freeze my butt off so much tomorrow.

Work would be a much happier place if we were just all shit faced drunk.



On a happier note, I am making  a rag rug.  Once I get all the braids that I have braided sewn together, I think I'm going to need more shirts to make it larger.  Or maybe I won't make it larger, just depends.

                       

DAY ONE

                                                                      DAY EIGHT

It is getting large enough to be problematic as it has to be perfectly flat to sew...also I found out, DO NOT FOLD IT IN QUARTERS as it doesn't somehow want to flatten out without an iron...I kind of panicked...all those hours and all that work and it was all warped after I'd folded it. Guess I could stitch it do a towel or something?  Don't know.  Really would rather someone with a sewing machine do that. 

It is really cool and homey and colorful...all things I like.

Humans; they are weird.

I often wonder, because the subject rarely comes up in the light of more important things, whether I am the only wife who doesn't get asked to go to people's houses strictly because my husband thinks I'll just sit there like a lump and everyone will ask him whether I am angry or somehow otherwise dislike them? 

I find this absolutely strange. 

My husband is usually quite correct in that I don't interact well with people I don't know.  I just resent the fact that he doesn't give me the right to refuse on my own, which, knowing some of the people he hangs out with a little better by now, I will normally do.

This is usually due to lack of stimulating topics of conversation.  I just don't care how much Person A drank as a teenager or how many drugs Person B did "back in the day."  I also don't care how much Persons A and B drank last weekend.   I'm sorry, but I am 35 years old and most of Jon's friends are in their mid to late 20s and I think they are a little hung up on their teenage years.  Just give it up and become an interesting adult.  I can't imagine the conversations with these people when they hit 50 and they are still harping on their teenage years.  I'd probably have to whack them in the head with a mallet if exposed for too long. 

So, yes, I will sit quietly and drink by myself, and say nothing because I am a guest at someone's house and my Mom taught me you don't pick fights at another person's house--even if that person is clearly an idiot.  I will, however observe. 

Being quiet doesn't necessarily mean I hate a person.  It may merely mean that I have nothing to contribute to a conversation.

I find it strangely narcissistic that adults would be so offended by someone who is being quiet.  Is this some sort of leftover teenage blow to their ego?  Oh, she's quiet...I bet she HATES me.....what the fuck?  Really? 

I rarely hate anyone.  And if I do hate, its for a good reason.  I have extreme dislike, but rarely hate.  And, if I extremely dislike you I am not going to accept any kind of invitation to your house. If I am unsure whether or not I like you I may accept an invitation so I can more clearly make up my mind.  But rarely, if ever, does that result in hatred.  If I do like you, you won't get rid of me; ever, and I may still sometimes be quiet. 

I rarely drink to the point of hangover. This is not to say I don't drink vast quantities, I do, its just, as my friend Ruth tells me, I must have an efficient liver.  And when I do drink vast quantities I do not become "another" person. I don't suddenly yen to dance (which I have never wanted to do--ever--and don't quite understand why people do want to dance).  I won't flash my titties.  I won't giggle incessantly.  I can be quite an introspective drunk...which, means, yes, I will sit back, observe, and think, quietly.

So, I suppose, people are suddenly expecting me to turn into some sort of social butterfly just because they are handing me alcohol and because my husband is a surprisingly social being.

I grew up in a not really populated area and got used to being the weird outcast who didn't actually find, upon observation, that I greatly enjoyed 95 percent of the population.  I enjoyed the remaining 5 percent...and I find the numbers still seem to hold true even in a more populous environment. 

I know this is seemingly random. What brought it up is that my husband went to his old friend L's house last night. Fine. I have no problem with that. I even like L even though he is a schizoprenic. Jon left last night saying he wouldn't be gone too long, it depended on the mood L was in.  And I said fine.  Then Jon made a remark about me usually whining about him going out. (Sometimes I complain because we see each other for short times due to work schedules and his going out can usually mean he is gone from 6 pm until 8 am...no joke.)  I told him that since I wasn't invited I wasn't going to complain. 

This put him on the defensive for some reason.

I wasn't invited to my knowledge.  I have met L maybe twice and if he wanted to invite me, he would have...and, hell, maybe he did and this is why Jon went all defensive because he thought I would ruin his nice time. I don't know.  L is weird.  He is used to other people being weird.  I had that impression when I met him.  I don't think I would offend his sense of "normal." And I don't think I have. 

I really think that is what all this bullshit it about. I push other people's ideas of "normal" to the limit and then they have all these weird teenage emotions still floating around in their heads which makes them think someone quietly drinking and observing must therefore HATE them.

Strange. But since I have never taken any classes in human behavior, maybe its not so strange.  I just have my own observations.

I'd much rather study the behaviors of other animals. 

Bark Bark Bark and more Bark Bark Bark

I have been very lame and anti-posting as of late.  Much of this has to do with the fact that life has predominately sucked and I really don't just want to crawl up on a soap box and whine about how bad I have it; when I know I'm actually really lucky.

We crashed the only working car. Yep.
But I have sweet and wonderful friends.  They came over helped put the Jeep back together (even though yes, it needs an engine and we are driving it currently on borrowed time) and let me camp out on their couch and drive an F350 for a week so I could get to work in exchange for some food and toddler management.  I think I got the better deal, but hey, no complaints.  I was even fed lasagna...which I hadn't eaten in YEARS.

Our Fishy died. A Featherfin Catfish and the only fish I've ever been attached to because of his coolness factor....this was sad.

This is a Fishy. He never was cool with the camera. Cameras meant bright light. Catfish are fairly secretive and don't really care for bright light.  And this was a couple years ago. He had grown larger.


I did get another bunny.  I renamed him Snoops because of his sweetness and inquisitiveness.  Vincent and Snoops get along quite well and I think Vincent is really just happy for some company.  Nothing wrong with a free, cute, sweet Holland lop...nothing at all. I think I'd cuddle him at work if I had time and thought he wouldn't get injured....the pair of them are good for my stress levels.

Vincent is the fluffy Angora and, of course Snoops is the cute lop. The cuteness is nearly unbearable.


Jon got a raise.  I got a middle of the road yearly review...which is, I suppose, not too awful since I only had three days training on being a receiver, and my other training consisted of just "do it" and "this is how its done" with no real explanation which is not fair. Also, the receiver tests that I had no prep for came as quite a shock.  Really?  There is an entire cash handling manual but NOTHING on receiving?  My job is just as important as cash handling...more important as I am the only one who does inventory management unless my boss is feeling particularly ambitious or feels quite in the mood to be helpful (and he does, actually lots of days).

We had lots of kiddos Trick or Treating last night.  We never had so many despite the rain.  So, of course we ran out of candy too early, but, hey, we're on a budget, candy is EXPENSIVE and we never had that many kids before.  I find it odd that NONE of them were from our neighborhood and even more disturbing that all the costumes were pretty awful.  Kids and parents appear to continue to get lazier.  One poor kid got a granola bar...yes, because her siblings had drained us of candy and we didn't have enough.

We did carve pumpkins and I forgot how much I enjoyed it.  I still think I like painting them better, but maybe I'm lame.

Talked to my Aunt who has horrible fears about car accidents (her brother was killed in one) and then of course had to call my parents for fear they would hear the news secondhand.  All my dad had to say was, "well, if you don't figure things out like you always do, give us a call and we'll see what we can do to help."  Which is sweet but I'm a little old to always be running to the parents.  I shouldn't have to at this stage of my life, but things have changed in this country and not for the better.

It is now November and I am just wanting to get all the Black Friday/Christmas bullshit out of the way so things will quiet down at work. I'm really getting tired of 17 boxes of more of UPS per DAY plus the heavy trucks full of Chinese imported junk that TSC apparently has fallen in love with these days.  Would like to know what was wrong with the Larin tie down set...oh, nothing was WRONG with it, it was made in the USA and therefore the PROFIT MARGIN was TOO LOW.  And really that's what its all about, not the employees, not quality, its just about PROFITS.

I also need to find out when our inventory is so I can schedule copious amounts of vacation time around it.  I need a week or so off.

My dog is going apeshit. I think she also could use a vacation.  Not that we can really GO anywhere...unless a miracle occurs or we obtain a new/old Jeep engine...but her barking relentlessly at EVERYTHING is driving me crazy tonight. I can't see anything out there for her to bark at making me think its a neighborhood cat or raccoon or opossum. 

And that's life at the moment.

I Love you, Grandma

I wish my grandmother had been less senile and healthier in her later years.  I have a few things I would like to talk to her about because I think she'd understand because she had the life experience of living through the Great Depression as a child.  There were stories she told that I still adore even though they speak of untold hardship, being very poor, and self reliance.

1.  My grandmother was a very, very skinny child. Then her mother wormed all the kids with tobacco (just like they did the horses!) there on out, my grandmother became pudgy.  So apparently she did have worms.

2.  My grandmother's family also had the whole head lice thing happen while in elementary school (most of them never actually graduated...went until 8th grade and quit).  Instead of the nice shampoos and ect we have now, her mother soaked all their heads in kerosene lamp oil and boiled all the laundry in lye soap.  I for one can not even fathom having kerosene in my hair, the way it must have smelled or felt...and how on earth would it ever wash out?  It probably didn't wash out for a long, long time.

3.  She lived on a family farm, so they were fairly lucky and rarely went hungry; however, they did eat all manner of things including ground hog, rabbit, duck, deer, you name it, if it was free, someone was eating it.

4.  After she married; my grandmother, along with my grandfather, were migrant workers locally at times to make ends meet.  If someone was making hay, picking corn, or something that needed done; they were there; sometimes bartering time for things they needed, sometimes being paid since they were too poor to afford their own land and rented houses for years and years.

5. My dad lived in a small closet on the third floor of a rental house with no heat, quite large cracks in the walls, layers beyond layers of blankets and no indoor toilet for a good portion of his childhood.  This was in the 50's and 60's...the heat was provided by the cook stove in the kitchen...most of the rooms were unheated.

6.  She was rarely idle. She was always cooking and canning, washing laundry in her old fashioned ringer washer, and hanging laundry outside on the line.  (Yes, she did have a dryer, but she liked to smell the sunshine!)  She was always telling stories, teaching her grandkids (me!) something and singing in her off key too high pitched singing voice.  She crocheted, sewed, quilted and made all manner of crafts, including reupholstering furniture.  She donated many many things she had made to local nursing homes.  (In her later years when someone who had hoards of yarn or caches of fabric died, it was generally given to my grandmother...she then made blankets and afghans and donated it to someone who would find some comfort in it.)

Whenever I think of complaining I think of her.  She never did complain. Not once. Not about something that couldn't be helped. If it could be helped, she'd do something about it.

I miss you Grandma. I always get to missing you this time of year. Even though you left us just 6 years ago I feel I've lived a lifetime since then.  School of hard knocks or something, having always been kind of spoiled because my parents made enough and worked enough that we never worried where food or clothes came from...and now I sometimes have wondered where food or clothes would come from.  You died nearer Thanksgiving, but I always think of you in mid October when I moved into your little yellow mobile home and it seemed so empty there without you.  You wanted me there, I wanted to be there, but turns out it was pretty lonely with no other people, no animals, and no one relentlessly baking pies and bread.  In some ways I wish I'd stayed.  But hindsight's 20/20 and there's no telling if I would have been better or worse off.

Have Lacked Motivation to Post

I've totally lacked motivation to post things lately. 

Loads of tension in my household lately have been focused on a geriatric cat who may or may not be suffering from senility. I think senility is quite likely since she has decided our sun room made a fancy litter box in which to pee.  I also suspect accidents in the living room; however I as yet have not had time to deal with the stripping of that immense amount of carpeting.  Cat pee is such a pervasive smell that it seems no amount of anything is getting it out and Jon has been constantly complaining and up my butt about the smell.

I finally obtained his permission to rip out carpeting.  I have done so in the sun room and have since been spending my time removing carpet adhesive from the pretty tiles I found underneath the carpet. The tiles are damaged on the edges due to the tack strips being nailed through them so I am also repairing that damage with concrete patch and am going to work on disguising the damage with a border of paper floor DIY that I found online...pretty cool. Will take some time.  (Senile cat has since stopped peeing on the floor in there. I hope she doesn't find a new spot.)

Once I manage to finish that project, I will rip out the other carpet.  Don't know when that will be or how long it will take me, but I do believe there is nice hardwood under that carpet.  Could be the finish is damaged and I will have more projects than I care to, but I'm okay with it having character.

I am going to have to invest/make rugs.  And possibly invest in lots of nice wool socks as it will feel much much colder without the carpeting.

Jon and I had our three year wedding anniversary last Friday. We celebrated with copious amounts of alcohol, a James Bond Marathon (only Sean Connery, he's the only 'real' Bond) and some much needed together time.  Jon bought me an orchid which I am not supposed to water or anything due to my black thumb and he will have the care of it because I seem to easily kill all things plant.

It seems to rain every weekend.  I can never seem to hang out my bedding and, it being a month since I've been able to hang it out it was gross so I washed it anyway, now I despair that only the sheets will be dry and the blankets are still wet.  If the dryer worked this wouldn't be such an issue, but as it is I've only so much space to hang wet clothing/bedding in the house.

Vincent seems to have the runs again. Mystery, considering he's had no greens and I haven't altered his diet in any way.  Since he wasn't feeling well, he lucked into only having his nails trimmed instead of a haircut. I didn't want to stress him too much.  He doesn't mind nail trimming as much as hair trimming, oddly.

My car, which I have taken good care of since I bought it has decided to burn oil for no good reason. Engine seems to run fine, is getting good mileage, but now wants to smell hot and burn oil.  There's not a speck of rust on the car.  I suppose I will be looking for a wrecked Cobalt with a decent engine at some point. Hopefully at least a year from now.  "New" engine still cheaper than used car.

Not sure I will make it home for Christmas after all, sadly. Need dependable/running car...and right now, we only have the one and since we have yet to win the lotto, this one needs to be conserved until we get another one going.

Flannel is Soft and Amazingly Durable

After recent arguments in my house; I have determined that my 12 year old self was accurate at determining what I would become. Some things have changed for the better, here, but I'm talking essentials.

I am sitting, half drunk listening to the old Alice In Chains album, Dirt (which my brother and I dutifully wore out on cassette tape and had to replace it with a CD)  and explain to Jon why I believe the actual track "Dirt" was underrated back in the day...meaning very early 90s.  (Yes, I am old.)  I was 12 back in 1991.

                                               Yep, Time Warp...1992...I still yen for flannel.


He simply looks at me and asks me why I would think that because Dirt is one of the "classic" albums....ummm.....generational gap, here?  (I was talking about the track not the album...and...I'm not sure if the album IS considered "Classic" and could care less if it is.)  It was new to EVERYONE back in 1992 with the exception of those lucky people who got to see Alice in Chains starting out, perhaps.

                                        This somehow looks wrong; as in the colors.


I let the conversation drop and continue happily singing along, badly, probably, but Jon doesn't complain.  He SAYS I can sing...but I've heard my voice on the voice mail for Jon's phone and I think I sound like a crazed chipmunk; which is bizarre considering the blunt, straightforward way I put things, I think I should sound like a 3 pack a day for 20 years cigarette smoker.  Also, I've been around ACTUAL singers...and the normal volume of their conversation is soooo loud your eardrums will pop...their lungs/diaphragm are that much stronger, they don't even think about it...at least the really quality singers.

Then Jon asks me if I want to rent a movie.  (I don't remember its name now.)  I said that I didn't know because I'd never heard of it and asked him some questions about it.

And he kind of went all mental about me not having social networks to fall back on or people I regularly hang out with.  I assume he means on a weekly/bi weekly basis or whatever he equates with normalcy.  Whatever "normalcy"  others are talking about has never really applied to me and I really could care less what works for everyone else. 

I have a friend, her name is Ruth and she has a James...and, frankly, that's perfect enough for me.  I don't see her often enough, but schedules don't always permit and everyone is always busily trying to play catch up between work and home.

He asked me how I would hear of a movie since I'm immune to most or all advertising (true, I really am...I have this weird tune-out, it's a commercial and therefore doesn't apply thing that snaps into automatic gear) plus we don't have television in the conventional sense, meaning we have Netflix.  And, while the cd player in my car unmercifully died, and I do listen to the radio I am often annoyed enough to turn it off because of the rubbish Sammy Hagar/whatever annoying other bands they play and even if there is a good song, as soon as the station goes to commercial or some DJ ventures forth some boring and mundane opinion my mind wonders and I am in my own little world, quite immune to outside input.

I said I don't know, but why would me asking questions about it bother him so much.

I don't think he answered me.

He just went to the, "you have no friends, you are the epitome of the Grunge Age."

Maybe.  I'm not sure what the "epitome of the Grunge Age" was.  I thought it was more of an "anything goes" sort of mentality than an epitome.  Such as if the hippies, instead of being optimists who yearned to change the world had already realized they'd failed, but it was cool if someone still wanted to try to change the world....

I didn't try to be.

I just always was what I am.

I do what I like.

I am rarely, if ever, entirely or even largely influenced by others.  I like to think for myself and am easily  assimilated into The Borg.

I think corporations are evil and Borg-like...

                                    
                                            I think the Plastic Man has long been assimilated.

                                            (District Manager for those not in the know.)
                                        

I don't believe in any certain religion.  (Unless the religion of the Almighty Dollar is a religion...I believe in that...its pretty damn real..no dollar, well, you'll be really hungry....America could give a fuck less, so whatever must be done to feed yourself, well, better damn well do that, then.)

I don't have overt hope for the future and find hope to be a rather pointless emotion.  (As in: wish in one hand, shit in the other, see which gets filled first.)

I think, things are born into the world, live a while, maybe learn a little something, then die for no apparent reason.

I am awkward and unhappy in most, if not all, really social activities and either need to leave quickly or drink heavily...in either case, I will remain silent and in my own little world if uninterested by the company or the conversation.  It matters not if I am shit faced drunk...if I'm bored and have nothing to contribute to the conversation, I won't contribute.   I find this to be acceptable.  I'm not an argumentative drunk.  According to Jon, many of the people I've met at parties with his friends have decided, somehow, wrongly, that I just don't like THEM.  Maybe. I don't know. I didn't get to know them well enough to decide one way or the other.  I just was bored by their topic of conversation.  It seemed to consist of : 1. doing drugs back in the day 2. video games, or 3.  let's play beer pong...  I consider all those things to be boring.  Also, I don't like beer.  I also don't respond well to small talk.  It's stupid, vapid, pointless, and for those with a terminal fear of silence.

All in all, I think I am a realist...and wonder what exactly is wrong with that?  Nothing.

It's Almost Friday...but Almost Friday Doesn't Cut the Mustard

I have much hate for fourteen foot heavyweight gates. Much hate.  Ever try to balance and lean one up against the side of a business? No?  It's a particular kind of hell.  The only thing worse would be a 16 foot heavyweight gate.

After stowing nearly 30 gates--with help--I might add; my left shoulder is no longer on speaking terms with me...its on shouting terms.  Last night it shouted at me all night long.  Today it is less shouty but stiff and ouchy.  I know I did it no good by continuing my relentless two day assault on the backroom and sidelot. I am always amazed at the amount of lazy that goes on.  Also, I usually get three days for assaulting the backroom but because of the holiday, I have to work extremely hard to catch back up. 
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 I cleaned the sidelot to discover my four hour marathon last week of rearranging to clear a path for 44 pallets of wood pellet fuel...has resulted in idiots rearranging things that DO NOT NEED to be REARRANGED due to the fact that I arranged them for convenience and so that there would be NO DIGGING and therefore fucking shit up.  I also discover that all three salt pallets out front are empty because no one could be bothered to fill them over the weekend despite them being on sale.  Amber K helped with that one because she actually tries to NOT make my job more difficult.  She needs a clone.
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ASM leaves very shortly and I will be glad.  She has no qualms about making shit more difficult for me.  Let's just leave shelves lying about the backroom...or feeds...or whatever she's working on...let's just leave it half assed for someone (me) to put away to make room for the truck.  Hopefully someone already at our store gets promoted (He'd be a good ASM) or we get an actual ASM that just works ALLLLL the time.
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Also, more people need to be proficient on the forklift. I'm sick of excuses. "I can't go do this because..." Basically because...of fear.  I've put it in Amber K's ear to put Shitty Amber on shaving refill duty...yet another thing I have to do if no one else deigns to.  Amber K asked me if I'm sure..because Shitty Amber keeps dumping the shavings.  I just laughed and said..."well, if she dumps them often enough she'll learn to be more careful and to NOT dump them...just quit helping her pick them up."  I think I shall next put her on salt pallet refills.  Shouldn't be able to dump those, but I could be surprised.

I'm trying to teach Jen to be more proficient but it is slow going as her reaction time is slower than most and I think she may have depth perception issues.  I make her take the empty pallets out...and stack them in the stacks...I have recently helped her put things in the racking and take things down from the racking....that's a risky proposition...and she needs lots of coaching...if I had more time, she'd do it ten times a day until she didn't need my help.

Crystal is trying, and, on her own...which I'd rather. I'm not the boss.  Sometimes I feel like I am...only because I am more take charge than the boss...or so I think.  Fear, yet again...just need to get her loading/unloading semis...tried to get her to do the pallet truck since there is absolutely NOTHING she could break...but she was scared and Jason was available because I was uber busy...so I didn't force the issue. 

I was thrown to the wolves and made to do a feed truck (very easy) and my first truck on my own was a DC (quite difficult) and soon followed Tartar Gate (challenging) and Carry On Trailer (extremely difficult and I am still not very comfortable with that one).

Most everyone in that store has a forklift certification....now, why are they "certified" and yet somehow incapable of doing the simplest tasks?  Just make them.  That's how I learned. By doing.  Granted, I've had tons more practice...but practice is awesome. Fork some bags, tap some things, knock some shit down...pretty soon to get out of doing more work, the carefulness creeps in.

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I think we are going to be starting some more new hires.  I'm kind of scared because ASM interviewed them and she tends to really like older and female...which is fine...but these older females need to be able to toss some 50 pound bags repeatedly and hopefully have some mad life skills like knowing what a trailer coupler is and that there is a difference between a category 1 hitch and a category 3...things we are sadly lacking at the moment and I am tired of helping out on the floor because no one wants to learn or is afraid to stretch themselves by trying. 

I learned a hell of a lot about tires by stocking hundreds of them...tires and tire chains...and stupid customers with stupid questions...I don't think any female should be immune...and we have tons of females at the store who are quite capable but don't want to go out of their comfort zones of clothing, dog, cat, and horse.

I still think a couple youngish...30s 40s males would be excellent for bag tossing, life skills and dealing with all those assholes who still don't believe that women may possibly know what a solenoid is or does.  I hate dealing with those idiots.

Also, all the people that are currently register jockeys want off the register (always)  and almost all of them have physical limitations...and we need a feed tosser/forklift operator present ALL SHIFTS.  I just don't think they understand what they are asking for. Nothing against any of them.  It's a brutal job. BRUTAL. I have huge purple bruises just from today that I have no idea how I got. 

Shifts are as follows:

AM:  Manager (does price changes, customer service, phones, load outs)
        Receiver (does phones, load outs, inventory, trucks, side lot, backroom, feeds,                                                 mostly not dealing with the public)
        Cashier  (money, phones, customer service, ect.)

Mid: (We don't always get a mid...covers lunches, backs up the cashier, does customer service,  
         load outs, helps fill feeds, do special orders, ect...hopefully a jack of all trades)

PM:  Manager (special orders, customer service, phones, load outs)
        Cashier   ( money, phones, customer service, ect)
        Feed Thrower  (fills feeds and rotates feeds, can take an entire 6 hour shift, load outs)

And that is it. It's a tight crew. Someone doesn't pull their weight or its exceptionally busy...someone else gets hosed.  I know I could use a 50 hour work week instead of a 40...JUST TO STAY CAUGHT UP COMFORTABLY...however; there is no caught up comfortably...and its just a rolling bit of madness from one day to the next.

Another Unwanted Adventure

This morning I got up and wandered about lazily just like I do every Saturday until I feel like starting my chores.  It's nice not to have to just jolt out of bed, run around the house like some crazy thing and immediately go to work.

Then I smelled a burning plastic smell. This is pretty unusual...as in I've never smelled that inside the house before.  So I lurk around our bedroom where the smell is stronger, touch the walls, feel the outlet where the air conditioner is running...mildly warm...air conditioner cords are usually mildly warm, just like vacuum cleaner cords. I go into the rabbit room...and...there/s smoke...and the smell is atrocious.

Jon and I think its the ceiling fan, so we immediately cut the power to it.  I go outside to get the bunny box so he can be evacuated into not noxious fumes...and there is still oodles of smoke. Jon notices an outlet is glowing red...the outlets in that room are not used because bunnies like to eat cords and pulls the main switch.

Neither of us really know what to do, we just sit in the house, windows open, with the power off and kind of stare at each other.  What if we'd gone somewhere? What if we'd been at work?  We'd have come home to no house and crispy or missing critters.

Jon finally called his dad who got him his Uncle Wally's phone number. Wally, blessedly, is a semi-retired electrician.  We had let the outlet cool, took it apart, and phoned him to tell him what we found. He didn't like the sound of it so he drove an hour to our house to take a peek.

Wally inspected things, trimmed some wired, and wired it all back up, thinking that because we have old style metal boxes in the wall (original in 1949) one of the wires on the outlet was arcing and just got really hot against the box and started the fire.

Of course we don't have a breaker box; we have an old style fuse box with 15 amp fuses in it...which is actually the correct size fuse. The mystery here is why didn't the fuse pop?  We asked Wally and he said he hates old school fuses for this reason, most of the time the do pop...and then, there's times like this where they just don't.  So of course we asked him how much it would cost to install a breaker box...he said around $400...but that it would be awhile. He works for people part time because of the government being all worried about him working full time and being retired....our government is just dumb..so he said probably October he could swing it.

He suggested we tear apart ALL the outlets, make sure the connections were secure, and that there was electrical tape insulating the outside of the outlet OVER the connections just so it couldn't possibly arc to the metal wall boxes.  I didn't think we had 20 outlets in the house, but guess what, we do.  Went over every single one...two people...four hours...but we had quite a scare.

Why Can't a Girl Catch a Break?

I came home yesterday and let my dogs out. Then answer the knock at my door and its my neighbors telling me they caught my dog--he'd escaped due to the power company cutting limbs and--they'd pushed in my gate, which is always locked to prevent-- anyone who just walks by-- from letting my dogs loose on a whim.  He then helped me push the gate back to its proper position. I thanked him and was pretty upset.  I mean, really, I left the gate locked, its NEVER unlocked...even the meter reader knocks at a locked gate and won't enter your yard if you aren't home to admit him.  If the power company had bothered; either by phone call or letter, to inform me that they were going to trim power lines in my yard and an estimated time, I would have left the gate unlocked for them. However; I got no such warning. 

Apparently city power company workers are less concerned about getting shot than their country counterparts.  My countrified power company in Ohio warned folks so they wouldn't be caught unawares...and, I would assume, for the safety of their workers they wouldn't want folks to be caught unawares. 

Also, if a gate is shut, shut the damn gate!  Ever want to piss off a farmer, a horse owner, ect, leave a gate open.  Common courtesy, open the gate, shut the gate so animals won't escape and cause a larger problem either for the property owner or for someone  such as passing motorists. Cows and horses are not big respecters of cars. 

I'm just glad both my dogs are safe and didn't get hit by cars as I am super close to a busy freeway.

Lesson learned.  Gate will now be chained as well as locked. Fuck you, DTE. Notify me. I will comply. I'm a fan of electricity and tree trimming is often necessary.  Want to enter my yard without notification?  Go ahead, jump the fence with a chainsaw, see if I care.  Cut through the fence, I press charges.

I noticed my other neighbors who always, always, ALWAYS left their gate unlocked...now are sporting a gate chain.  I wonder if their dogs also escaped.
 ______________________________________________________________________________

Super busy at work yesterday. Not even funny.

Here is the listing of deliveries:

9 softener salt pallets...unload time, 30 minutes, paper work time, 10.

"Partial" DC...meaning a full truck minus 4 pallets that were dropped off at some other store. Unload time one hour...paperwork...45 minutes...and I had help from Crystal or it would have been much longer for just the paperwork.

Tarter Gate. They merrily left me about 30 gates and other things that have yet to be socked away correctly as I haven't had the time and it is labor intensive, hot work, in the sun, and its way too hot to be doing this lately. 90 plus all week.  Unload time: 45 minutes because its all wonky and complex. Paperwork, about the same since they pack the gates with bar codes facing wrong directions for the RF guns sometimes just to be obnoxious.

Bird seed...9 pallets. Unload time, one hour due to rotation of old bird seed to the front and new to the back. Paperwork, ten minutes.

UPS.

Fed Ex.

Recycled Pallet truck guy:  I was able to pawn this off on Jason as I was too damn busy and he didn't mind doing it.  Was trying to get Crystal to do it since, its empty, stacked pallets and what the hell can she break? Nothing.  But she was too scared.

Checking in of UPS, Fed Ex, POs from the truck....at least an hour.

Helping Crystal finish sorting totes (she was totally off her game because her room mate was threatening to "do things" to her cat or some shit., she moved back in with her mom after work yesterday.)  30 minutes.

Sorting pallets with Crystal....an hour and a half, possibly?

Lunch; half an hour. It was socked in there somewhere, don't remember where...everything was so frantic all damn day.

 Finding most of the rain checks, calling those people, (I feel like this is always endless and it eats up time like nothing else.) No one ever answers their phones so it rings and rings and rings and goes to voice mail. Those same people later come in to bitch that "No one called."  I've decided they just don't know how to listen to their voice mail.  Answering their phones would prevent that.  I'm not calling more than once. 

End of day paperwork and I ran out the door ready to just hibernate.

In reality I came home, let the dogs out for a potty break, was notified Doggles was loose, dealt with that, and then went to pick Jon up from his job...and came back home, showered, and farted around on the web, then eventually went to sleep...to wake up at 4 am to go back to the old hell hole.

There is still freight in the backroom.  All the computers went down and we had to write down everything, do the math and tax...and it takes forever. Freight stopped for about two hours.  We were chugging along until the store had to open.  It broke our momentum and we never recovered, and we were two people down for two hours and then one person down for the other 6.

I'm glad its a three day weekend...except, on Tuesday, I'll have double the work as I will have to do Monday's work as well....

Mystery Rash

Last Sunday we had a store meeting. It was lamer than lame and mostly served to remind me that I'd had much more fun at other store meetings. Namely, at Howell with the Dread Pirate Roberts, Jason, Ruth, Ashley, Ray...there was lots of sniggering...poking, inappropriate comments and laughing.  I'd had better boring store meetings even at New Hudson, in particular the one where Pam used a counting device to discover that the Spurminator said MMMMkay...over 200 times during the meeting...there was lots of snickering and laughter then, too.  All in all, it was a dreadful waste of time and I'm not sure why we even had a meeting. 

My biggest adventure this week has been Mystery Rash.  Stupid, itchy bumps that appear, disappear and reappear and spread...and when scratched with much bliss...(there is actually nothing as pleasant as scratching an itch) become larger and more itchy (of course).   There is rash on my scalp, under my arms, on my sides, my back, in between my fingers, the only actual place where I haven't discovered a rash this week is on the stinky bits.  Even the palms of my hands!

I haven't used any different detergent, soap, lotion, nothing.

I, as far as I know, haven't been exposed to anything containing penicillin (which when I had strep throat was given as the antidote and made me have horrible itchy spreading hives...and so I learned I am allergic to penicillin). But this does act like the penicillin itch.   

The last antibiotic the cat was on was tetracycline, so its not that.  She was on a form of penicillin two months or so ago but I exhibited no symptoms while administering that to her, but I was very careful to not touch it or if I couldn't avoid it due to beastly cat, I was very careful to immediately wash my hand or whatever had gotten exposed.

The only thing I did different was eat hot dogs.  I usually don't eat them, but as we had been given a vast amount of hot dogs and had had a BBQ last weekend, I ate them.  With GOBS of mustard to help hide the flavor.

I suppose I could have a hot dog allergy...or more, realistically, a preservative allergy.

My cousin also suggests I could have somehow come in contact with penicillin mold.  Possible. Weird, but possible. Who knows what I come into contact with on a daily basis at work, really.  I am always dirty, sweaty and in contact with numerous dirty things like lawn mower batteries, tires, feed sacks (including sometimes ones that have mold, though I wouldn't think it would be penicillin mold), lime, and various unidentifiable yucks on the insides of semi trailers.

Mystery Rash sucks.

That is unchallengable.

Mystery Rash is also miserable while sweating heavily and it is hot out.

It is miserable when not sweating. 

GO AWAY, Mystery Rash!

Another Week in the Life

My first week at work after being on vacation for two weeks was, as expected, rough.  It took hours on Monday just to figure out what was even happening with the paperwork.  It was all so confused.  My "replacement" had not been trained whatsoever so I can't be angry with her as she called me several times to ask questions.  I am, however, disappointed with my supposed superiors in not considering that she hadn't the faintest idea what to do and had scheduled her with no one who had the knowledge she was lacking.

Jon has been battling depression. I can understand why.  It's just difficult to deal with.  He was supposed to have a guy from work come over today and help him drop his oil pan so he can clean the sludge out of it and put in a new oil pan and rear main seal but, of course, the guy flaked out on him without even so much as a phone call.  So he's bought all the parts and we moved (pushed) cars around in the driveway (lucky for him I have lots of experience manually pushing around a ton or more of feed pallets) because it came in handy today, being strong like bull.  He's now gone off to somewhere to get a manual...I think...with the cash he was supposed to have paid the guy who flaked out on us.  So he hasn't actually gotten started yet.

Tomorrow I have a store meeting (just the place I want to go on a day off) but only have to be there for an hour.  I traded hours with Crystal so I wouldn't have to work alllll day on a weekend.  I usually don't work weekends...and if I miss a weekday I end up so far behind I can't dig my way out.  Plus I won't have to deal with phones, customers or moving things...I can just sit there and listen to the manager say "BLAH BLAH BLAH..."  This manager doesn't say "mmmkay?" all the time, and I've never been to one of his meetings so we shall see how it goes.

We had a very short notice barbeque last night.  It was okay with a very small turnout. But was still fun. Levon pretty much did all the work and bought all the things. But, he was on vacation this week and wanted to have a barbeque, so we did.   So its our turn next time to buy all the things.  Levon, I think is...a month or more sober.  Good for him.  I'm proud of him, really.  He'd stopped drinking in the heat and found himself passing out at work from the DTs.  Yep. That bad.  So bad he even went to a doctor to get help detoxing.  He's stuck to it.  He's not even all weird about people drinking in front of him.  He says its just something he's going to have to learn to tolerate so just go on ahead and drink.

Dave showed up for a short time and was his usual, nice, quiet self.  He said his work had been talking of promoting him to assistant manager...but he hates his job so I don't know if that is a good thing or a bad thing.

I have been  reading and reading and reading.  Although today I did do laundry, and the usual lame household chore type stuff...like wiping the dog spittle off the insides of the windows. I really really wish Emma would stop foaming at the mouth every time a mail man or some random person walks by the house. It's actually pretty damn gross because dog spittle is slimy and I have to wet the slime to wash the windows, reanimating the slime.....and smearing it around with lots of dish soap before it comes clean.

I don't remember a summer with as much nice, comfortable weather as this one or as much rain when needed. My grass is still green and not brown, crunchy, and just plain dust like last year. Weird.  Even in other less dry summers the grass still seemed to turn brown.

I am not looking forward to receiving in winter, however.  The cold and the snow really really suck when riding a forklift.  I learned enough about that this spring to dread it.

Fried Green Tomatoes

Started reading the book Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistlestop Cafe and was surprised I'd forgotten I'd read the book.

How weird is that? 

Once I saw the page layout and began reading, I remembered having read it one summer while at my Grandma's trailer; possibly while I was still in high school, or even junior high. 

What I'd love to be able to remember was how my Grandma came across it.  She didn't go to the library and she didn't read much other than her sewing/crocheting books, Reader's Digest, and the local newspaper.  I'm wondering if one of her friends had given it to her or allowed her to borrow it.  I really don't know. I only vaguely even remember reading the book back then.

Of course, I would have read it at the very least 17 years ago...and I'm thinking I could have read it as long ago as 20 years ago. I was a wholly different person back then and it seems like a lifetime ago...and while I am getting older...its still a few years shy of double my own life span thus far.

Memory is a funny thing.

I can remember, with clarity, reading The Time Machine by H.G. Wells at the age of 9 (abridged, children's version) but I can't remember clearly reading Fried Green Tomatoes. I vaguely recall the where...and the general age...but I just had no clear memory of reading it.

 I guess I'd better get used to flaky memory...I'm definitely not getting any younger.

Vacation

Had a nice visit with the folks.  Quite nice waking up in my old bedroom (changed though it is)  when I felt like it (or the sun or the dogs woke me instead of an alarm clock). 

We didn't do too much, being fairly broke.  Bought some wine, some cheese and some food.

Jon cooked a few meals for my parents and everyone seemed to have a good time. 

Dad seemed to like having company for a change. He spends too much of his time on his own, I think, while Mom is at work ten hours a day.  I am glad he has kitty friends and our old pal Bean.  We went a few places with  him, an antique store, small things like that.  Our favorite Antique Mall has since gone out of business...sadly, the place was huge and had so many things to see.

I took my Kindle along and read a couple books and began reading Wuthering Heights.  While reading it, I keep thinking, wow, it must be nice to be just at home and somehow taken care of all the time.  Apparently this makes you more likely to become mad but better a raving lunatic at home with loads of money....but I guess being at home with all your meals, cleaning and laundry taken care of leaves an excess of time for obsession.  Perhaps that is why teenagers act so abominably...well, other than the hormones...

Jon took his PS3 along, and the tv (yep he did) because he really just wanted to loaf about and play video games all week. The PS3 broke two days in....and once we got back he researched it on the internet (my parents don't have internet)  and found it is the red light of death or some such which just means a thing came loose inside it so it won't work.  So it needs fixing....of course Sony will fix it for $150 and will return you a PS3 (not the one you sent in at all, not even the same STYLE PS3)...so he doesn't like the sound of it because he's taken really good care of his.  Other option is to pay $75 at a game shop (Sony doesn't approve of this at all and will refuse to work on PS3's that are not opened by them, of course) but then you will have your original  system. So I think Jon will do that eventually.  There are more pressing matters currently.

The Jeep title did finally come...the tags are now expired, and the dealership OVERNIGHTED the title to our house...it cost them $20 to do this...so it makes me think they totally fucked up.  So we have to retitle and plate it and fix it still, of course.

I woke up to a staple gun this morning. The neighbors behind us seem to be having a garage or shed reshingled. Kind of annoying.  The only annoying noise at my parent's house while sleeping with windows open was a few really vocal birds that seem to have lodged near the bedroom window.

Moose kitty is so happy to see me she's barely left my side.  I missed her, too.

I got to become more acquainted with my parent's kitties than previously as dad had locked them up in the basement so the dogs wouldn't chase them.  The Spooky kitty acts loads like Moose. I like him, he's temperamental, loving and kind of vain about his fluffy hair.  Slick, now, he's huge, loveable and less vain, but just as nice a cat.

Bean is doing worse and worse, of course, as old dogs rarely get more well.  His will is strong.  He wanted to walk and walk and do all kinds of things his body didn't want to allow.  We had to physically restrain him from following my dogs on their rather longer route as he just couldn't do it.  His front end is starting to stumble now...as before it was only his back end.  Poor old friend.  I don't know what my parents will do without him.  He is going to leave an enormous hole.  They are so patient with him. Taking him for walks takes nearly an hour even though they merely walk him around the woods behind our house.  He stops, pants hard and lies down.  But, every morning, without fail,  he WANTS to go. 

Sometimes, I think I could just go back home and never return here.  But my parents do get on my nerves after a bit, just as they always did no matter how I love them.  That's a fairytale anyway, I'm not independently wealthy, damn it.

This week I am off, just hanging about. Doing whatever. Jon is at work so I have no car, not that I'd go any place but Ruth's any way, and I've invited her here.

I wish I didn't have to go back to work next week as I'm sure it will be a wreck.

Stupid Mind

Woke up at 1 am. For no apparent reason.

Now my mind won't shut off.

Of course.

Thinking of dumb shit that makes no sense to worry about such as:

I have a Purina PO on my INRs...that has been there since April...and I never got this feed order. Have emailed and faxed various and sundry people to no avail.  Bothers me, obviously. Does no good to worry about it.

The title for Jon's Jeep has never arrived and his temporary tags are near their expiration.  Since I don't have a title and it was bought from an out of state dealership....how do we go about plating/registering it?  I would think since we paid dealership fees to do so...it would be on their end (except for the plates)  but I don't know. The Secretary of State's website is unhelpful.  The Secretary of State has very limited hours and if I work, or Jon does, it makes it very impossible to get there before they close so merits time off work to take care of shit, which is ridiculous (one of the things I hate about having regular day hours).  Again, why worry?  We haven't driven it in ages because of another issue.

Jon's "new" Jeep gets anywhere from 10-20 pounds of oil pressure (wayyyyy too low) and we need to take apart oil pan/replace oil pump, and perhaps rear main seal (this will hopefully fix it) but what if it doesn't?  What if its just knackered?  I guess we drive it until it explodes and think about replacing the engine.

What if those creepy guys who came and looked at the Sunfire come back?  They got the key to turn, and they know how to replace steering columns, apparently.  It's not my car.  Shane said "Sell it to them."..but the guys didn't want to pay our asking price of $300 which is entirely still reasonable for a running car that needs a new ignition switch, muffler (or more of the exhaust)  and the bumper situation figured out. 

Today is Jon's birthday. I didn't get him anything. Why? Because he was supposed to make me a list of possible wants (he wants so many things I find it hard to keep track and am horrible at remembering names of video games) and he never did. Also, I don't really have lots of cash on hand at the moment since I get paid this Friday...meaning pretty much broke.  I feel bad about this. He got me something I really wanted for mine and I love it.  I guess I don't have tons of things that I want that are practical and are affordable so it was easy for him to remember what it was I wanted.

Jon's boss is giving him grief (as always) and a write up for missing work last Friday and not calling.  He fell asleep on the kitchen floor because our house was incredibly hot due to no electricity, didn't hear his alarm or his dad calling when he came to pick him up. (I am able to take/pick him up Mon-Wed...but Thurs and Fri can only pick him up.)  The VP and President of the company were okay with him missing work (he talked to both of them and apologized for missing) then this douche bag foreman tells Jon that Hanaway (the President) took it "personally that you missed work with no notice."  Umm...sure...that guy must have hurt feelings a LOT if he takes it personally that people miss work.  And, after being written up, the foreman asks Jon where that piece of paper is that he was given. Jon told him he threw it away.  The foreman wanted to CHANGE INFO on the PAPER after the fact!  What?  Also, Jon found out that punishment for being written up three times for the same infraction is an unpaid day off....wow...so yeah, they are really worried about him missing work without notice.  At my work, you are FIRED for three no call/no shows. FIRED. No write ups. No anything. Just BAM! FIRED!  Also, Jon works with a known heroin addict and a guy who is always sloshed at work and drinks WHILE at work....ummm...yeah...does the company also take that personally?  The foreman is clearly on a power trip.  Jon isn't the only person who has issues with him, but he's the one the foreman has taken a distinct dislike to.

Also, what do I do if my cat isn't out of antibiotics by Friday?  Which is when we are leaving for Ohio (or maybe Saturday, depends, really on how we feel).  Do I really think my mother in law can handle medicating said vicious patient?  No.  What do I do if cat's snotty gross nose doesn't go away even after the full course of antibiotics (this is round 3 and she is 15 and thin, too thin at the moment)?  I have been buying her special kitty-fattening (meaning canned food) to entice her to eat more. Last vet visit she weighed 8 lbs...down from 10...that's a lot of weight for a cat to lose.  She loves this.  Do I think my mother in law is going to be able to handle feeding fluffy cat canned food AND medication...and putting out separate dry food for the FAT kitty? No.  Who else could do this?  Ruth could. But Ruth is going to the UP to see her family...so who else?  Shane? No. Shane is currently already working 2 jobs and has no time for anything.  Levon?  Don't know.  He's a drunk. He's also kicked out of his house because he's an atheist and is living out of different people's houses/his car.    Mother in law then....with lots of instructions, I suppose.  Don't know if she's ever medicated a cat before.  It's not for the weak hearted. Jon is miserable at even just holding the cat in a towel for me so I actually find it easier to hold down the cat and squirt the shit down her throat myself. Sure, I get clawed once in a while, but  he's so  horrible at holding her I actually get injured less without him.  Wish I could drop her off somewhere but I don't know that many people. I also don't want to stress her out while her body is already stressed and trying to heal, so taking her along to my parent's house really is out of the question...5 hour drive...two dogs...then being locked up while somewhere new.

Jon broke his phone. On purpose again. This pisses me off.  Why? Because he was having a bad day, arguing with me over something valid, but that we were working on resolving and someone was blowing up his phone with texts and calls. Constantly. Like every minute or two. Which would piss me off as well but I'd just turn off the phone or tell them to fucking quit bugging me and I'll call them when I feel like it.  So now instead of just calling him and asking if he needs a ride to work, I first have to come home to see if he's home then back track if he's not. Annoying. Time consuming. Ridiculous.  Although, to his credit, he did call and let me know yesterday from his dad's phone...I just fucking didn't check my messages in time because I have to turn my ringer off at work so I never think about checking the phone later. My fault and one of Jon's pet peeves with me.  It is nice not having Jon's phone ring a zillion times a night, though.  Peaceful.  But, of course he now doesn't have any phone numbers again and will have to run around to find out things...which is hard on the gas money.  If gas was cheaper it would bug me less.

And none of these things are things I can seemingly do anything about...which is why, I suppose I am awake thinking about them instead of sleeping.  I'm a do it and get it over with person. Not a we'll see person.  Which makes me a little annoyed at Jon for letting this dropping of the oil pan/replacing oil pump thing drag on.  I do understand though. He's worried he won't be able to do it himself.  So if he doesn't want to do it himself we need to save up some cash to pay to have it done.  Which we are saving up some cash...for something anyway, just accumulates quite slowly.

Last Weekend Part II

The only other thing worth mentioning about last weekend was the traffic heading home. 

All was well and good on the usually busy Ohio State Route 83...I didn't even find myself behind one of those old ladies who seems to be afraid of letting her foot down on the accelerator...and barring that, I didn't find myself behind a loaded logging truck either.  So I found myself having to pay attention to my speed as my car believes I am Speed Racer on the downhill bits and while I really like being Speed Racer, I do have out of state plates and have to be wary of local cops as tickets are expensive and not much fun

This all changed once we met with the Ohio Turnpike. Terrible, just terrible. Miles and miles and miles of traffic jam. All three lanes crawling along.  We got stuck behind an RV called Big Ed...so saith the vanity plates and this was our main view for miles.  I eventually managed to tuck in behind a semi truck and while that really didn't improve the view, at least I was near the shoulder and the off ramp should I need to use the potty at one of the service station.

Big Ed passed us.

And we finally crawled (after 15 miles)  to the service station...and it was backed up....really backed up.  Luckily we didn't need to pee.  The gas station was mobbed.  A Prius appeared to be out of gas and waiting in line! I laughed at this.  Big Ed was refueling...and blocking about 4 pumps...Big Ed was quite an enormous RV...probably a million dollar model..with pop out living area and all.  And, at the wheel of Big Ed?  A very large, happy Golden Retriever. 

Jon snapped a photo while we were just sitting there waiting for traffic exiting the service station to try to merge back into the road.

Eventually it was my turn to deal with the idiots merging...or not...

 And this is where I got really angry.  Some idiot in an Mercedes SUV was buzzing alongside our lane (not in a lane, on the SHOULDER) and thinking I was going to let them in. Ummmm....no...this yellow car doesn't yield for people NOT EVEN IN THE ROAD!  I clung to the ass of that semi truck like a stubborn dingleberry.  I'd have considered letting them in if they were at the point where the on ramp and the road met, but they were TOO GOOD to do that.  We were  half a mile past that point.

Jon borderline freaked out saying they were going to hit us.

I said, um, no, that new Mercedes has some good insurance on it, and anyway, it would be ALL THEIR FAULT if they hit us considering they were breaking the law by driving on the shoulder. 

Idiot in Mercedes decided I wasn't going to play nice. Unfortunately, the person behind me was nice and let them in. I wouldn't have.  If I'd have had my way that whole line of traffic would have denied them access.  I've done this before to people in traffic jams. Ummm....noooo...assholes, you aren't any more special than the rest of us.  You can wait just like the rest of us.

So they were behind us and decided our lane was moving too slowly and got in the lane next to us.  I laughed so hard because that lane was going even more slowly.  None of the lanes was traveling more than 5-10 mph...in bursts.

Eventually we reached the road works that were the problem. One lane was eliminated, and in usual idiot fashion, the people in that lane refused to merge into the other lanes, making alllll that traffic and misery even though the signs are clearly posted for miles.   

At this point things got better and we traveled at a steady 40 mph.

Eventually the road works ended altogether and we could go the speed limit which is 70 on the Ohio Turnpike.

This made for a long trip home.

Jon  kept saying he'd never really seen me have road rage before.  Yep. I get it.  But only for shit like that guy in the Mercedes tried to pull. "Oh, the little yellow car will let me in, its a car...."  Ummm no....I'm really not afraid of you when you're in a slightly bigger car and we're all going 5 mph....ooooohhh....fender bender...and its all your fault?  You owe me a new paint job mother fucker....I need one anyway for all the chips on my hood caused by those mother fucking gravel trucks that really shouldn't be allowed on the freeway. 

 And that was that.

Stressful Weekend, Happy Ending

My plans actually didn't fall through this weekend.

Went to my parent's house.  Things seemed good, things seemed normal.  Then I was informed that their old dog Bean had gone missing on the 4th of July while my parents had gone to Cincinnati to visit one of my cousins.  My old friend was missing.  He hates guns, thunder, fireworks, anything of the sort, but has NEVER RUN away in all his 14 years of being loose at my parent's house. Never.

My parents, of course, blamed themselves for not tying him at his box (a thing he always hated but was sometimes necessary, though rarely since the road/neighbors are all tolerant of him. He doesn't bother livestock or make a nuisance of himself).  They would have left him inside the house if they hadn't been going to be gone for so long (four plus hour drive one direction, plus visiting and return trip) and they thought nothing of it as its something they have done often over the years.

I cried.

So my father informed me that he hoped my dogs would kick  him up and we could either get him home safely or bury him.  The overgrowth and undergrowth in that little bit of Ohio right now is amazing since its rained nearly every day on and off for weeks.

Bean is quite arthritic and can't get around well so we were searching mainly close to the house but we also searched the back of beyond too, just in case.  Nothing.  At this point he had been gone three days.  In rain, in storms he hated, no food and probably some water because of the rain, but possibly not much.

I cried.

Next morning we went out for another round, hoping to find something of him.  The rain had hidden all tracks that could have been in the mud.  There was just nothing.  So I took my very happy dogs....they like to run about off leash with no threat of other humans/cars things to really hurt them.  Miss Emma found the biggest, muddiest, grossest smelling cow crossing she could and ran back and forth through it enthusiastically until she was covered in smelly clay and had to be hosed off with the garden hose....and we again went out.

We were about to give up when my Dad's cell phone rang, and he looks at the caller id , gets a weird look on his face, then answers it.  It's Jon calling from my phone (which is why the weird look since I was standing right next to him)  and he is saying Bean is home, in the yard, tired, but otherwise seemingly okay. Not tore up. Not limping worse than usual, just being Bean.

We get back to the house, and yep, there he is.  Thirsty, drinking lots of water, but tired.  Happy eyes. Happy to have his ears rubbed and be back with his family.

Dad had to carry him up the porch steps...he was just too stiff...and tired...but they got him inside by the air conditioner, got some food in him (egg and other people food he loves)  and he had a nap and lots of petting.  He perked right up.  Happy to see my dogs, me, everyone. 

My cousin's girl, Lexi, brought her little dog when they came to visit, and he perked up enough to chase it around the house (slowly but that dog was rather afraid of all the other dogs so it was still a chase) so he could make friends.

So glad this all had a happy ending.  It made for loads of stress. I have never seen my dad drink to drown sorrows before.  I saw it this weekend.  Not sloppy drunk, not really drunk at all, but actively drinking.

The moral of the story is: no matter how well you know your dog, no matter how many times you've done something, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE leave your dogs INSIDE during the fourth of July.  (My parent's neighbors had been setting them off for  hours apparently.)  Or otherwise secure them by tying them out.  All the endings aren't happy ones like this one. On the news while we were there, the newscast was all about the Humane Society taking in 150 dogs that were SIMPLY LOST on the 4th.  They were pleading with owners to please come in and have a look if their dog was missing.  Don't call. GO IN.

Slow Down the Weekend

Why aren't weekends longer than two days?  It takes more than two days to play catch up for the five days I am at work....even doing laundry/dishes during the week I still get behind and the house always looks scroodie...and the outside work piles up as well.

Today:

I cleaned bunny and kitty litter boxes.
Finished the laundry I started last night.
Washed dishes.
Cleaned the bathroom.
Vacuumed.
Mowed the lawn.
Trimmed trees the best I could.
Cleaned gutters (finally!).
Cleaned up the gutter gunk.
Cleaned out the weird/gross bits of ???? that always manage to fall into our drying rack of a dishwasher.  No idea what this stuff is but it gets seriously gross. Wish the damn dishwasher worked as a dishwasher.

Yesterday, due to possible insanity, we drove to south of Cleveland, OH to look at a used Jeep Cherokee at a small car dealership.  Ended up buying the thing after Jon drove it about and I sat and watched the dealer/salesmen break into one of their own cars.  Really funny, especially all the cursing. Also thought my bladder was going to explode. There were no public restroom facilities and Jon had the keys to my car in his pocket while he was test driving.  He ended up buying it. 

It's a pretty nice Jeep for $2500 (those taxes and dealer fees sure do add up)  but has its issues.  Not sure what all these "issues" are yet.   Some are that the oil pressure appears to be all the way up on the gauge, guy at parts store said we probably needed to replace some oil do-hickey that I can't recall the name of. Ed says its not serious.  And the water pump is leaking...so will need a new one...(I told Jon to go strip the one of his old Cherokee, we put it on there maybe a year ago)  and the CHECK ENGINE decided to come on this morning after Jon changed the oil...which was a quart low...and I suspect the engine having enough oil is triggering this stupid gauge thing and the gauge thing is triggering the check engine but what do I know?  Either that or the water pump is triggering it.

She runs, has mostly all decent tires (one is meh), needs a new windshield due to long cracks across the glass, doesn't make the weird clunk or grinding noise that the last Jeep was making, the four wheel drive still works and she has under 200,000 miles on her.  She made the three hour drive from Ohio to Redford just fine.

Mostly, though, we have a month to transfer registration (after we get it in the mail, Ohio does that), and hopefully it won't be a fortune, don't know. I did the insurance bit last night...that way if Jon gets pulled over for ??? (windshield???)  we'll just get a fix it ticket.

And we owe the bank another 2500....

Bleh.


I hate being a grown up.  But at least if my car takes a shit we'll have some feasible alternative.

Next weekend, we'll try to relax at my parent's house. Hope that happens. My plans lately have a way of taking a dump.

At work I wonder who is unloading the DC and sorting the freight. Apparently isn't me.  I am off the 4th.  And the trucks are no longer supposed to be early/delayed for any holiday.  Probable nightmare scenario here.  Too bad I can't call off the 5th if I want my holiday pay....or I totally would.

Only in Detroit

I have lived near Detroit  since December 2009. I can hardly believe that.  Sometimes it seems like a longer period of time; sometimes I can't believe I'm still here.  For all its obvious drawbacks--and not so obvious ones to people who like cities and suburbs (I'm not one of them)  there are good things in Detroit, Michigan.

One of the very, very first things we did in Detroit was go to the Auto Show.  It's full of crazy people, cars that are just plain mad, and lots of people trying to sell you lots of things. Some cars are so expensive as to be roped off, some are fully hands on.  The year we went, the Ford display included the robots that build the cars which was bittersweet since so many in the Motor City had suddenly discovered themselves out of work because the Big Three were in deep trouble.  Jon and I were so broke that year that one of his friend's mom's gave us the tickets (she'd been given them) and we only paid for parking in one of those maze-like and tomb-like parking structures that inevitably always smell like pee.

We went to see Jack White live, playing in his hometown.  The White Stripes were defunct by then, but he was touring with a new band, The Dead Weather.  Nothing as loud as Jack White playing Detroit, Michigan at The Fillmore.  My left ear is still the worse for the wear.  Really.  Never been to a louder show. Even Jon, who has been to many, many shows says that show was the absolute loudest he had ever attended.

A few years later, we had the luck to see Cage the Elephant live at St. Andrew's Hall.   Lots of important bands have played there in their early years, and not so early years. Including Nirvana. Nirvana's Setlist at St. Andrew's Hall 1991 (according to others).  I wish I had been older than 12.  That would have been a show to remember. It's a wonderful venue. Small, intimate with plenty of room and a rather cheap bar with Michigan micro brews and lots of other beer on tap.  They don't even search patrons for contraband. Awesomeness.  Cage the Elephant tickets were just $14 a piece that tour.  We did  have to suffer through several terrible Emo bands because St. Andrew's has a no re-admittance policy, but it was well worth it.  Two years later, we saw Cage the Elephant again, this time at The Fillmore with another terrible band, Manchester Orchestra.  The price of admission had doubled, but the show was still raw, rough and spectacular.  A regular 90s style grunge type show. Wild, unabashed and tons of fun.  Lots of shocked Emo kids kept repeating how "hardcore" their set was. Ummm...not hardcore...an ACTUAL rock show with a non-lame band. That's what it's all about.

                                                                    Yep. Nice, rowdy show.

My favorite building in the Detroit skyline, Michigan Central Station.  It's sad to see it, but beautiful just the same. Ghostly. Beautiful. Still there. Makes me want to break in and experience the grandeur of the interior for myself...or win a trillion dollars and make it all better. Here is the history .

                                                                       Outside

                                                                        Inside

                                                         
 The Detroit Zoo. Quite nice with the absolute best architecture of any zoo I've ever visited. The Aviary is lovely, inside and outside. The zoo was going to be on the chopping block in 2006 and some of the animals were relocated to other zoos, but the people of Detroit caused such a backlash that legislators had to turn the operations of the zoo over to a private company.  Good choice.

                                                                      Aviary
Belle Isle.  A place I only recently discovered because a group of volunteers, operating solely on donations, have re-opened the oldest aquarium in the United States.  All the tanks are not yet full, but wonderful things are happening...next door, the Conservatory is also wonderful. Both were designed by architect Albert Kahn.  Detroit was the place to be way back in the 1900s. I would have loved have seen it before all the decline.

                                                             Aquarium

                                                                       Conservatory

                                                    Ruins of the Belle Isle Nature Zoo

                                    Scott Memorial Fountain...no longer works, but a group is trying to fix this.

As this is a half-finished post and I have lost the mood and thus far can't continue, I am going to post it anyway. 

Basically some very awesome things are in Detroit, cesspool that it has become.  Wish I could travel back in time and see it in the mid 30s.