6 December Photo Blog

 Our small blue spruce.  Potted,  and wearing only lights and Krang.  Krang is the traditional tree topper at our house.

I got a new camera, so hopefully this will lead to more photo blogs as I am much happier with the photos this camera takes than the camera I have had for fourteen years. It had stopped functioning properly a few years ago and I just wondered why I was having so much difficulty taking a decent photo.

                                                 The stem of a heritage pumpkin.

                                                       Jon and Emma having a cuddle.
                                             

                                Doggles looking, as usual, photogenic and ready for a snuggle.

 Emma, in her Super Dog pose.

 

Moose, my old friend.

                                                     Playing with the black and white settings.

                                                                    My pretty orchid.

5 December

There are things I wonder.

Such as why is it okay for my husband to comment on an annoying child screeching like a Ring Wraith at the next table, but not for me to comment on some woman's superficial and ridiculous comments to a woman she clearly could care less about but felt for some reason compelled to speak to in passing.

 Guess there is a difference?  I don't see it.

Guess my husband has a bug up his ass again. And "This is why I don't want to take you places."

Gee. Thanks.

And sometimes I wonder why I stick around.  The difference here is I don't throw it in his face.  I don't threaten.  But, sometimes, I wonder. And, maybe, someday, I won't be here.

Is Your Lollipop Wild or Domesticated

Yesterday was Adventure Day.

Yes.

This is what my friend calls Thursday.  It is the day her and her son go out and about. Since I have been on vacation this week. I tagged along for adventuring in Ann Arbor.

I quite like Ann Arbor. Mostly because its full of strange granola-loving hippies and other weirdos.  In other words, my people.  I imagine the rent there is exhorbitant due to demand from all the U of M kids.

Ruth drove my car which was an adventure for her because she is used to a Jeep.  As her Jeep wouldn't start for some mysterious car related reason....I'm guessing the severe cold and a dead battery.  Since I didn't know where to go, she drove and I tutored her on the fact that my brakes are a little strange and that the right hand blinker on the front of the car doesn't actually work properly since the crash last fall.

The Meijer there is sparklingly clean.

I was enlightened on the prospect of gifting tacky ornaments to friends as a sort of Xmas White Elephant and such. Sounded fun.  We didn't find a tacky enough ornament at Meijer. I suspect a super tacky one exists at a dollar store near me or even at my workplace.

We continued on to a parking garage where Ruth was told by a machine that her debit card was unacceptable.  So, we used mine.  How infuriating to be rejected by machines. At least you can tell a human to fuck off. Machines, they just don't care.

Then we went to a lovely bookstore/new agey shop Ruth likes to go to and I also like due to its population of interesting people and things.  Also has a tea/coffee shop upstairs.  People routinely have animated conversations on all sorts of things like bad vibes, good vibes and how to banish/encourage the  various vibes.  Where else to get things like sage to cleanse the house? Or your car?   Jon and I burnt regular sage from the grocery store we were so desperate because of our bad luck, and hey, a tree fell on the house. That, weirdly enough, turned out to be A GOOD THING (as Martha Stewart was always saying) and helped us out a whole heap.

James had a toddler meltdown over a tiny, cute panda bear.  In the end, he got a new pet (Miss/Mr. Panda) after long discussions on why he wanted it so badly and usually when Ruth says no, he's fine, but, for some reason, he really NEEDED a panda bear. This panda was SPECIAL and needed a home.

We found a fairy door in the book shop where kids had left offerings of pennies and drawings.  If I were a fairy I'd want to live inside a book shop full of magic, coffee, books and tea.  Sounds perfect.  Also, its  warm in there.  The air outside would probably freeze a fairy solid in about a second.

Then, it was on to the Hands on Museum.  This is one very awesome place. Used to be a firehouse, which is also super cool.  After 5 pm admission is only $5.  Which is a good trick to know.  Here is the Link if Anyone is Interested.  I'd never been there.

I'm an adult who is kind of a big kid, so its a perfect place to go. 

James had an altercation with another kid over a garbage truck, which Ruth says is common, and for some reason that is a highly contested and treasured toy in the toddler room.  Toddlers are thugs.  Once a toddler has possession of a highly prized object, it is then their solemn toddler duty to lord it over all the inferior toddlers who do not have the object and follow them about the enclosure, taunting them.  I HAVE THE GARBAGE NOW!!!!!!

Also I observed some helicopter parents which I thought was hilarious.  One blonde woman in particular just hung within about four feet of her little girls at all times even though they were playing nice and not having an issue with other kids or toys.  Weird.  I didn't see an umbilical cord still attaching her to them, but it must have been yanking painfully on her uterus.  Otherwise, I saw no reason to be that involved in little girls playing quietly inside a  playhouse.

After an eventful trip, and taking several moments to convince James that the museum was closing and we needed to go home, we then headed to a yummy Thai eatery and had a very tasty meal. Very. Tasty. I think crack may be involved. Not sure. But it's my suspicion.

After James and his Panda ate a few noodles, we headed to the co-op and Ruth picked up a few things.  It smells nice in there. Kind of like an Indian (as in people from India and not Native Americans)  grocery store.

 James got a lollipop.  I asked him where he thought lollipops live and if his lollipop was a wild lollipop or a domesticated lollipop.  He answered that lollipops live in drawers.  A reasonable answer. Because his markers and paints and paper live in drawers.  So I figure in toddler logic all brightly colored happy things must live in the kitchen drawers of old farmhouses.  Yep. Sounds logical to me.

In Protest of Winter, Some Bright Colors

There is snow. Ugh.

Therefore some unrelated photos.

                                                Home Depot Orchid I bought for half off.

 

                                 Cute and Cuddly Emma Keeping me Cuddled While I had the Sniffles.

                         The Alian Outback at the Detroit Zoo. I didn't see any Alians.


I have decided to take a cue from my friend Ruth and rarely wash my hair. She's doing No Shampoo. I, am doing some shampoo.  But I bleach my hair sometimes (she doesn't) and I work around smelly tires and will want to wash tire smell off sometimes.   I think it will help with the dry winter hair and the bleach hair and will definitely help retain my purple color.

I need to figure a way to make at least $1800 a month and not actually go to a job. That would be great. I have spent a lot of time thinking about it this week since I have been off work on vacation.  No ideas that suited me were found, other than I really really want to do this, so....more thought is required. Where there is a will, there is a way, right?

My little brother's birthday was this week. Hope it was a good one, but I know he was at work, having texted him, and I doubt it was as good as it could have been. I miss him.

I went to the store for the last time in general normalcy. No normalcy will be had now until after the Xmas.  I felt sorry for the employees at Meijer as they are already being forced to listen to Xmas Muzak.

Jeep Tossing

Jon's Jeep got tossed again probably by some crack head.  Unless this guy/gal has a thing for spare oil, transmission fluid, or antifreeze, I don't know why they bother.  All doors but the driver door lock, which doesn't lock because someone side swiped this particular Jeep sometime before we bought it so it just won't lock.  I mean we KNOW it doesn't lock which means we KNOW not to keep things of value inside. 

I guess that makes this a RETARDED crackhead.

Which leads me to another issue.  I am a member of a web group. Another member was venting about someone (an adult) referring to her child as retarded. Oh, not in front of the kid and not even in person, over the web.  So the kid has no idea this has even been said, and, as such is not injured. 

The definition of the word RETARDED is someone or some thing that is physically, emotionally, or mentally stunted due to genetics or environmental factors.  Ummmm?  How exactly is that offensive?  It's like calling me brown eyed. Yup. I am.  So?

I find the argument moot and laugh all the way through the comments.  Maybe the kid IS retarded. So?  So what?  Maybe the kid isn't retarded.  So? 

The use of the word  "special" as a replacement for retarded is much more offensive because it hints at sarcasm, not actual fact. 

In other, more depressing news, Jon's first dog, Bear is dying due to renal failure. He may have gone by now. He was doing terribly at around noon.  Poor old man.  Fifteen is a long life, Bear. We all love you.  He had been to the vet on Friday and they prescribed some meds and put his odds at 50-50.  Today, he wouldn't move other than to turn his head to look at Jon.  He can't keep water down.  Poor guy.  I guess they were waiting to take him to their usual vet tomorrow if he makes it to have him put down.  I don't think he'll make it, but the amount of suffering in this world and the amount any one living being can live through is amazing so I could be wrong.

The Eighth of November

Jon's friend Levon came over last night to hang out. It made me wish he misprounounced things like the character of Ricky from Trailer Park Boys because then I could say he spoke Levonics.

Other than that, it's gotten cold and the dreaded window plastic is going up. 

I need to rake about a MILLION more leaves (or as many leaves as will fit into 3 lawn bags because I am NOT buying anymore this year).  Damn bags are a pain in my ass.  I hauled 9 of the damn things chock full to the curb last week on trash day and they were all soaking wet and partially disintegrating due to the lovely rain we've been getting.

Happy Halloween

     This is my 5 am freight crew minus the crew leader who was taking the photo and not wearing a costume.  Happy Halloween, Girls. I will miss you, Crystal, er Iron Man, you are the only one who really ever understood at all the load that is mine at work...and only because you were my fill in.  Much luck and better earnings than with this joke company.

My girl Jen got hurt.  I won't get into details because of possible corporate repercussions, but it was an accident and I'm very sorry it happened and I know our manager will take care of it because he helped out Michelle.

On a lighter note, Michelle ran around making TARDIS noises and singing "I'm a Tardis, I'm a Tardis."  And before Jen got hurt she breathed like Lord Vader and said things with her voice changing helmet.

I was the lamest with my Robin Hood mustache and jeans. But then I only own jeans and I never know when I have to unload something. If I actually wore tights, I'd have runs in them within the hour.

But we had fun.

Coffee Chaser

Ever see someone suddenly chug one of those small to-go coffee creamers like a shot of alcohol then chase it with a chug of coffee?

I hadn't until about 7 am this morning. 

The individual then proceeded to suck down a sugar packet and chase it with coffee.

This is of absolutely no importance.  But it was really, really funny.

All in Good Fun

This week, the girls at work and I decided to have a bit of fun on Friday, since it was payday, the day our store puts away the freight truck, and we all worked the same hours.  So, we planned an outing to Build A Bear, a place to which I had never been, but a place where the employees recognized my friend Jen on sight.

Jen, Michelle, and I left work, drove to Jen and Victoria's (Jen's significant other) apartment where we met up with Victoria.  Jen excitedly gave us the grand tour, including her closet of toys and the Halloween decorations.  Then Jen very happily made us some spaghetti (I didn't want to hurt her feelings by telling her I shouldn't eat it  because I am a glutard) so I ate it anyway.  To know Jen is to love Jen.  And her feelings are easily injured.  She is not always rational but is always genuine.

Then we went to Build a Bear.

Jen was purchasing Christmas gifts for a bear she had built previously.  (See, to know Jen is to love Jen.)  She was serious about this.  She bought a motorcycle, a motorcycle jacket, some Darth Vader slippers and tiny aviator sunglasses for her bear.  She, of course, told me his name, but me, being awful, can't remember it.  Jen is different in the best way possible. She makes me and most everyone who comes in contact with her, happy.

Michelle, the youngster among us, at nineteen, built a bear for her boyfriend. She also shopped for Dr Who wear at Hot Topic but was disappointed that the girl's costume for the tenth doctor was sold out in her size and, with my help, decided to become one very fetching TARDIS.  I think she just needs go go boots.  She didn't know what go go boots were. But, once I sent her a photo of go go boots, she says she NEEDSSSS them.
  
             I CONVINCED MICHELLE TO BUY THESE BECAUSE MY LEGS ARE TOO FAT.

Michelle, did however know what vajazzling (yeah I don't know how to spell it) is and helped me explain this strange phenomenon to Jen and Victoria.  I told them professor Google made me laugh a lot when I started looking at photos of it.


                                                 OBLIGATORY VAJAZZLING PHOTO

I built a dragon. I named him Lothar and got him a little suit top. 

He is soft micro suede and has small, textured scales, which is pretty neat.





Today, I spent quite a while deciding what outfit I could wear to work on Halloween (another freight day with my girls)  and decided the safest thing would be to wear Jon's Robin Hood hat.  I then contemplated becoming Errol Flynn.

 So I played around on the interwebs searching for mustaches, of all things.  And Jon and I went to a Halloween store!  I bought spirit gum, spirit gum remover, a mustache, and some Nightmare Before Christmas knee socks, because they were super awesome and I wanted them.

I decided to skip the goatee since the mustache is kind of distracting enough for me to wear on my face.  And, hell, the hair is purple right now, but it will wash out all too soon even though people really love it and I get compliments all the time....it is against the dress code at work, which I find ridiculous. Yeah, they own my time for 40 hours a week but they don't own me and I'm not flashing my boobs or letting my thong hang out to terrify children.


                                                         THE REAL ERROL FLYNN

I'm Ba---ACCKKK

I have been absent from this blog for quite some time.  Mostly because life has been particularly eventful and not always in a good way.

The first bit of September saw strong storms here in Michigan and a large tree limb fell on our house, pulling down the power line, nearly ripping it from our electric meter, ruining the chimney cap, tearing off some shingles, tearing down the cable line as well.  It took a month of fighting with the power company to finally get them to deal with cutting the dangling limb off the power line just so we could use the insurance money to repair the house.

There are still branches in the backyard due to us not having a chainsaw and we have friends who do but they are just as busy as we are and I am patient enough to wait until it suits them.

The house is fixed, the power line is fixed, we have installed a breaker box and gotten rid of the old fashioned screw in fuse box, the cable line is back up and we have internet again.  The contractor even fixed our broken hall light which hasn't lit up in years...no idea why other than he said whoever wired it buggered it all up.  Which was what he found with the fuse box as well.  Although, he said it had been purposefully buggered so as to bypass some of the meter sometime before we moved in.

Jon has been slowly working on fixing our broken gutters and missing downspouts.  They have been missing/broken since we moved in but we are trying to fix things the best we can. It has been slow going.

My car is back on the road. It needs new tires.  The year of sitting did them no good and they are kind of dry rotted and basically ruined, not that the tires were new or wonderful when the car was crashed. They were passable.  Before it snows much, I need new ones.  I've already had a flat in one of them and had to have it repaired because, of course, it happened when I was flat broke and couldn't have afforded a new tire even if I'd needed one.

I had to have one of my cats euthanized.  Not one of my best days.  She was old, suddenly ill, and one morning, we went to the emergency vet and they said she was too ill to test for things, and that was that. I decided and we buried her in the back yard.  Poor Zsa Zsa.  I couldn't watch her suffer anymore.

This morning I am skipping work due to being ill with some sort of cold or something. I don't know. I'm feverish and really didn't think I was up to my job.  I'll live. I was trying to nap but the dog decided to bark threateningly at the mailman she perceives as evil and then Jon called me to check up on me.  Sweet of him, but hard to sleep with all the noises.

Jon and I went to Ohio to visit my parents a couple weekends ago. Only for the weekend, which was too short, but it was a nice visit.  I hope there is not much snow this winter so I can go back to visit for a longer period without worries of driving in super dangerous conditions.

This weekend has been a good one. We picked up sticks in the front yard, went to lunch, made food, went shopping for groceries, looked in the antique shops, had some coffee, and basically hung out.  Sounds uneventful, but was pleasant and full of laughter.  I bought some goofy glow in the dark teeth that, once I get and carve a pumpkin, are meant to be jammed into it, lol.

Jon reformatted the computer. It had some virus on it that caused all sorts of things and we found the system disks and poof!  Virus no more.  Much better.  Weird, having to re-download Mozilla and get rid of Internet Explorer.  Also strange having no bookmarks.

My cat is sleeping so soundly on the couch next to me that she is snoring. Loudly. Silly Moose.

I guess that's all I can remember happening, though I am certain much more did happen.

Dreams

I have been having dreams lately. Good ones, mostly.

Things like: 

remembering how happy I was the first time I was big enough to jump the ditch at my parent's house without falling in.

ice "skating" on that ditch when it was frozen over.  We never had ice skates, we had boots and shoes, but we did have an imagination.  In fact, I never have worn ice skates in my life.

Waking up at Grandma's trailer.  Which is bittersweet. This November she will have been dead for seven years.  Seven!   I miss that woman. She got to meet Jon and then she died.  Doesn't seem fair. Not at all.

And the older I get the more I think, there is nothing like home folks.

I'm lucky and I have home folks far away. 

My friends Ruth and Joe are also home folks.  I'd feel lonely without them.

Yesterday was a Strange Day

It has been quite an eventful few days.

Firstly, Jon woke up having the most terrible asthma attack of his life, he says.  It was scary.  He has since seen a doctor and is on very strong steroids plus inhalers...and still his lungs are super inflamed and he's having a hard time at work.  It's a machine shop so there are a lot of yucky fumes to inhale...so he went home quite early today.  I hope he gets better.  On a positive note, he did clean the house while I was at work.

Secondly, here in the Metro Detroit area we have had some interesting flooding.  I personally had no issues with my commute but apparently I am one of the lucky few.  The golf course down the road from me is pretty much entirely submerged--or was still submerged at 4 30 which is when I drove past it on my way home.  The street behind us (we live on a hill, on some high ground)  was closed due to flooding...I saw the sign on my way home.  Sucks to be those people, I think.

Here are some photos:

Yeah. Those are our freeways. Not waterways, people.

And, lastly, there was this snippet of news that I found out about while listening to Dave and Chuck the Freak on my way to work this morning (our local morning show of choice in the Detroit area):  The Coshocton Tribune

Basically for YEARS and YEARS there has been a war between that church and that strip club.  It's in a tiny no-where place called Newcastle.  The church is a ten minute drive from the strip club...which makes this even more laughable.  I know I find this all the more ridiculous because I lived in that area of Ohio.  So I think this is hilarious.  Live and let live? Nah. The church says you can't shake your ass to feed your babies...even though...there is NOTHING in that town besides a really run down eatery of sorts.  How the hell else are they going to feed their babies? Magic?  Perhaps the church will provide food and clothes and paid bills? Nah. Let 'em starve.  And this is such a backwards way of thinking that just mentioning the word "abortion" will pretty much get you lynched.  Sure, have all the kids you want, just don't come running to us when you can't feed them?  What the hell?  Oh, and no ass shaking to provide for all those kids you squirted out.

I laughed about that article for a good ten minutes.  Oh, no, kids will be scandalized by NUDITY!!!!!!!!!!!!! Hahahahaha....kids love being naked.  Who taught them being naked was bad?  The CHURCH, that's who!

Yeah, yeah, Christians, go ahead put my head on a pike right now. I'm not anti church, I'm anti-idiot.

In which I try to work things out by typing...a lot

Anyone else get skeezed out about making appointments?

 I hate making appointments. I do not enjoy them.

Last time I was to a doctor: three years ago for a sinus infection.  Last time before that: 6 years for the same thing.  I believe that unless I need to go see a doctor, the evil white suited man or woman can just fuck the hell off.   And I rarely need to see a doctor.  And they always ask these idiotic questions (whether or not it has anything to do with what is wrong...and I don't know the last time a sinus infection was affected by the date of my last menstruation).  How the hell should I know the date of my last menstruation. Do YOU?  No.  It's not like I get all crap happy about it and mark the day down on the calendar. Because I don't. I'd rather NOT menstruate ever again, thanks. It's worthless. I don't want to make babies and I have no need to feel like shit one week out of every month.  Plus, its super irregular and who knows when and for how long it will strike.  When were you to a doctor last? (And they want you to list the dates.) I always write "I don't know."  Which is the answer I write on the blank next to the former question as well.  Sometimes, I write things like "the last time I was in need of a doctor, 6 years ago, give or take a few years."  Do you have insurance? "Of course not" is usually the answer I list. 

My husband went to the dentist today to potentially have a tooth pulled. It turned out not to be an infected wisdom tooth which is good news. But, then he had the GALL to include me in an appointment to have my teeth cleaned. No, thanks, I told him, I'm cancelling.  He got really mad about it. Something about it being luxurious. LUXURY is not having a dremel tool vibrating on the nerve endings in your mouth. It just isn't.  I said, well, I never just make appointments concerning you without your consent.  I know the dentist is going to say, oh that enamel is weak, oh there's a cavity, you need fillings....and I'll say, yeah, I know.  I'm planning on having them yanked once they bother me because its cheaper in the long run. I've had so many fillings in my life that the last dentist I went to told me the next step is having crowns and since I know exactly what one crown costs...um, no...I'll be needing a new car and not supporting a dentist so he can buy one.  My husband argues something or other about the pain of having teeth out (he's never had one out, I, on the other side, have had 8 baby teeth and 4 adult teeth removed all at once so my adult teeth would even fit in my tiny mouth and have had my wisdom teeth removed)  but as far as I know, the pain of the dremel tool bothers me wayyyy more than the pain of having teeth removed.  I don't know why. My pain killers never did anything except make me vomit so I never took them after that.  I equate having teeth pulled pain with the pain of menstruation.  Yep. Mine is that bad.

I even hate making appointments to get my hair done.  I used to have this lady who did my hair for 27 years or so...yep, the whole of my growing up. She is like family. But, I moved away, so I don't have her anymore and have found I really don't like strangers near me or touching me or fussing over me. So I have been cutting my own hair, bleaching my own hair and what not because 1. its cheaper and 2. no appointments and 3. no strangers.

My husband also gets really mad that I refuse to see a gynecologist. I'm not pregnant. If I'm going to die of cancer, I'd rather not know beforehand. And the last gyno I went to I told  off and just quit taking the birth control pills because I told him that yearly exam was just a money making scheme because I wasn't sexually active at the time and I was just there to see if it would make my periods liveable but I guessed I'd survived without them and could continue to survive without them if it meant I had to drag my ass into the gyno every year.  I also told the same gyno that I wanted a hysterectomy (I had health insurance once upon a time) and he refused based on some antiquated notion that a 22 year old has no idea what she wants for her own body. Umm...yeah...MAKE IT STOP!!!!  I don't want babies...DO YOU HEAR ME? No, of course, not.  By all means, you must want to procreate, you' re female. NO.  But someday? NO. I. DON'T. WANT. KIDS. EVER.

I found out that giving blood made my periods more liveable...but only because I was usually so close to anemic that I just wouldn't bleed very much at all.  Which was a great side effect, as far as I was concerned and kept trying to give blood for a long time. Sometimes I was refused because of the anemia, sometimes not.  Why was I anemic? Who knows.  That was ten or so years ago so it must not have been anything serious.  But I do know that iron supplements made me vomit so I gave up trying to fix it.

My husband says he just wants me to be happy. Am I?

I don't know. I haven't really drawn or painted much since we moved up here into all the people. It's probably been a year since I've even doodled, maybe more. I have no sex drive and that bothers me only because it bothers him.  I don't care to be around people and I don't like to do yard work when other people are outside. I don't like to walk the dog because I'm surrounded by strangers. 

Do I feel particularly unhappy? No.

I miss home and cornfields and acres of trees.  This is not home. We have been here since 2009 and this is not home. If I could transport this house anywhere in the middle of somewhere green where the people are outnumbered by farm animals, I would. That would be more like home.  I don't have the power to do that and I don't have the money to move.  So I guess maybe I feel resigned.

Perhaps I am mentally ill and have social phobia. Perhaps I am simply anti social.  Perhaps I am depressed. Perhaps many things.  I sure don't know.

Last Weekend was a Wash

I spent Thursday through Sunday quite ill with a high enough fever to hallucinate mildly and find things funny--all the things--for a while.

And, then, Sunday night, Jon's friend Levon called and wanted to stop by and hang out. Unfortunately, he was trashed out of his mind.  So he came over and was rude.  Some nonsense about wanting to party and that we should be blasting music.   Sunday, mind you, is not the time Jon and I really want to party considering we need to wake up at 6 am on Monday.

Jon finally had to ditch him by lying about having to check on his parent's dog because they were out of town (they weren't) and heading to the car, then driving around the block. 

Pretty ridiculous for a friend who is likeable and personable when sober.

Coincidentally, we were watching the Trailer Park Boys series on Netflix.  I kind of thought Levon filled the role of Jim Lahey quite well.

Even though I have many anti-social tendencies, I have never been outright rude in someone else's home even while heavily intoxicated.


 Almost made me wish I has some neighborhood bottle kids.

 These are kids that will gladly throw bottles at anyone, anytime, anywhere in Sunnyvale Trailer Park, if you didn't know.


So that was my weekend.  Hope everyone else's was better.

My Human Form, Where I was born, I now Repent.

Yesterday when I woke up all I could think was....urrrrr.rrrrr....rrrr...kind of like a car with a dead battery.  But this is because yesterday was Friday and the day of the week I am required, for work, to be alive at four a.m.  Yeah. So I felt lucky my brain even managed the urrrrr...rrrr....rrrr...of attempted start up.

Suffice it to say, I ended up leaving work after only 2 and a half hours because Jon's dad was in the hospital (his mom had left a very uninformative voice mail leaving out the where and the why) and no one would answer their phones.  So, knowing Jon's dad has several self-inflicted health issues, I figured this could be quite serious and left work to go with Jon to find out what in the hell was really going on.

Long story short, the doctors don't seem to know. However, I and Jon and the doctors really believe it still has something to do with his heart even though the blood work says otherwise and the stress test says otherwise.  I am pretty sure he had a mild heart attack.  Which is the stupidest term ever. Mild. Heart. Attack.  Just considering his weight, his lack of physical activity, his poor diet, his diabetes, his being on blood thinners and insulin and all manner of things....I think he's lucky to be alive.  I am not House, M.D, and clearly neither were the docs at Botsford....nor were they particularly interested in anything other than discharging him once they ascertained the diagnosis of "Um, yeah, none of us knows."  Jon's dad had 6 different doctors most of whom were residents and all of them had differing opinions.

I think the fact that they had him hooked to a nitroglycerin drip, fluids, a blood thinner and were giving him shots of morphine probably speaks volumes. 

I also hope this scares him shitless into behaving himself and not eating three bags of potato chips for lunch...and downing soda after soda even though his diabetes says otherwise.  But, I doubt it and I figure we are in for more of these horrible hospital experiences.

I am glad yesterday is over. 

___________________________________________________________________________


At the moment, I am sitting here marinating in my friend Crystal's homemade yummy smelling lotion after I used her yummy smelling homemade sugar scrub on my face.  I'm at the age, I guess, where my face enjoys a good soak in oil. I used to have so many issues with oil, I had to wash my face three times a day.  And I had horrible acne. However, my oily teen and early 20s years apparently were oddly kind to my skin as I approach my (dare I even think this?) 40s.  But now I need to marinate once in a while. 

I just soaked my bleached and dry hair in more manic panic...Virgin Snow this time...which is basically a very very very light purple meant as a toner but my hair is so light at the moment it did leave a purple tint behind.  It makes my hair feel less dry.  I just wish my work was cool with any color hair I feel comfortable wearing.  But, alas, corporations suck monkey balls. My boss is cool with it. His boss?  I don't know. The man is a tool.

My friend Courtney is having a very terrifying 80s party tonight.  I'm sure it will be fun, but listening to 80s music sounds about as fun as shoving my hand into a garbage disposal.  I already was forced to live through it once, being as I was a kid then, I see no need for a repeat. 

The Pixies--Caribou--the type of 80s music I love...which is completely at odds with every other brand of 80s music.

Shit Poor People Do

Jon made Yucky Casserole.

Yes.  He mixed together all  last week's vats of leftovers into a casserole.  Then added cheese and sour cream.  I feel vindicated that I stopped him from dumping the chicken curry into this concoction.  It already consisted of very bean-y chili (a lot of very bean-y chili as we are trying to stretch our meat even more than usual as it has gotten out of control expensive) and some taco meat (not enough taco meat). 

I really wish he would learn to make smaller vats. Really. Wish.  I get tired of eating the same meals two weeks running...after, of course,  recooking them to kill any bacteria that may have formed.

I tried to eat this concoction with some Fritos, and then decided it may be edible if I dumped the entire bag of Fritos into my bowl to disguise the flavor of too tomatoey Yucky Casserole.  Or if we had more cheese...an unholy amount of cheese may help. Or being hammered on vodka.  Or if my taste buds just didn't function at all.

Jon, however, thinks he is a genius and that it tastes yummy.

The dogs also thought it was yummy after I decided I'd had enough and fed them the remainder of my bowl.

I say I eat all the Fritos and leave him the Yucky Casserole.

The Siberian Husky Emergency Lifeline Fund

A short blog about two passionate people who are doing something to make the world a better place.

Yep, I'm sure that sounds pretty dull, not to mention sappy.

However, I personally know these two ladies and feel somehow compelled to help besides re-sharing their pleas for help on Facebook.  Because, that's actually a very narrow sliver of the population, being as those are the people I actually know. In person.  And because that very narrow sliver of the population earns an even narrower sliver of the money in this country...so those people (and I know some of them have helped this organization out in the past) are likely tapped.

They rescue Huskies from abusive backgrounds, over-breeding, you name it, then try to save these dogs from it, including taking a small group of volunteers into Cleveland (and other environs) to catch elusive strays.  This requires resources as they are a no-kill rescue.  This also requires volunteers to foster, and care for their on-site rescue dogs that are being evaluated and trained for possible forever homes. 

Not that I have a giant bunch of followers. And not that I know I have regular readers, however, I am going to share a link on my page to try to help out these amazing ladies.  Yes, they ARE legit.  One was a former co-worker and is a friend.  The other lady I barely know, but from what I DO know about her, she is wonderful and she is the founder.

About the S.H.E.L.L. Fund

There are several ways to help.

Here are a few that can be helpful from a distance (as in you are not near the Cleveland, OH area) as I am not and really wish I could volunteer some of my own valued time to help out...but I am approximately 4 hours away).

Amazon Smile  order things you would normally order from Amazon and raise money for the rescue.

Sponsorship Program   help the rescue buy food, medication, flea treatments, heart worm pills, and fund vet visits.

Fun Time Dog Toys  buy things you need for the dog you live with and help out the rescue!

Wine buy tasty wine and support the huskies!

Donate anything from money, food, toys, bedding, it ALL helps.

The Process  Now, if you ARE interested in adopting, these ladies WILL put you through an extensive process to protect the dogs, you, your family, and any other pets you currently have in your household. It is beneficial to find out if there are any personality conflicts early on as Huskies are demanding.

The Adoptables!  The stars of all of this. The lucky dogs, looking to get even luckier.

If you can help, please do as the Rescue has just moved to a larger site.  This is a crucial time in their survival and I, for one, would like to think that the do-gooders of the world can survive.

Mustachioed Lady

Just in case anyone was wondering, this is what could possibly happen if my hormones got horribly, horribly out of control:

 It's super muggy here in Michigan at the moment. And, since the ancient 1980s air conditioner in our bedroom took a dump this week I wanted a Slurpee. (We have since figured out how to work the one we got from Jon's Grandma's house. It still just needs some installation tweaks.)

 And, because I had seen a billboard advertizing 7 Eleven's mustache straws...which was SUPER clever AND addictive...I needed a mustache straw.  (I am usually amazingly immune to all forms of advertising, but was not immune to the mustache straw, it seems.)

My dad also has always had a mustache.  It's black/dark brown.  There were brown mustache straws and other shapes to chose from, but I wanted this one.

I'm thinking a mustachioed Halloween costume is in order.

And, hey, I look DAMN good in a mustache.  Must be my genetics.

When I told my husband this, the look on his face was of such horror I laughed for fifteen minutes (probably spurred on by the vodka I'd mixed the Slurpee with.)

My Un-Birthday Dinner

As a part of my UN-birthday celebrations (my birthday is on a Wednesday this week and I have to work) Jon and I went to a local Mexican resturant.

I was highly entertained by the conversations of other diners, as usual. I find other people's conversations a huge clue to who they are and what they think...and also what sort of person they might be.

I listened to two men talk about leaving their dirty underwear on the floor and about re-wearing it later because they didn't think they felt like actually putting in the effort to wash it. This conversation, of course, made me laugh because my husband does the same thing--even though he SWORE he would do laundry once we obtained a working dryer (thus far he has not done a single wash).

The other conversation was between two women, one of which worked at a college as the head of a department, apparently.  She was complaining about the quality of work her paid students were giving for her investment of $8.50 an hour. Sorry, lady, but you get what you pay for.  She was an older lady, so possibly $8.50 an hour translates to RICHES to her, but, to the rest of humanity it translates to pennies.  A gallon of gas currently in Redford, MI is $3.95.  If her students drive older cars (and you know they do)  this probably translates into anywhere from 10-16 miles per gallon plus food, rent, classes, ect.  Really, lady?  These students of yours could hire in at Wal Mart for $9.00 and be expected to perform less qualified tasks.  I know fast food places that a person can earn $8.50 after 6 months.  How is this an enticement to work FOR YOUR DEPARTMENT?  It's not. Expect shitty work for shitty pay. Plus, I doubt that she is so prestigious that working in her department would actually earn her students more money later on in their careers, if they so choose to continue onward.

This is Michigan.  She lives in or near Redford.  She is clearly not working for U of M.

I bet she is employed at Schoolcraft, which is pretty much the local technical college, and while, not bad, is not going to earn accolades from anyone.  I really wanted to tell her to get over her $8.50 when her students are incurring thousands of dollars of debt a YEAR under her employment...and that at $11 an hour I am underpaid for my qualifications and the amount of work I actually do...and that yes, I am STILL BROKE.

Pretentious bitch.

Bunny Clipping

This has been a busy and yet rather boring weekend. I have gotten many things done.  My house is much cleaner. Cleaning is BORING.  But, it needed doing and its amazing how dirty the damn house gets when we both work 40 hours a week minimum.  Of, course, the two cats, the two dogs and the rabbit have a little something to do with it.

The weather this summer has been nice. Weirdly nice.  It's nearly July and there have only been a handful of 90 degree days. I'll take it. Anything so we don't have to run the air conditioner (which is easier on the paycheck) is good.  We still have two loans outstanding. I want to get at least one of them paid off or close to paid off  before winter.  That is my goal. It's a hefty one considering my car still doesn't run and the Jeep engine transplant has stagnated because Jon's helper landed himself in jail for an outstanding warrant, no car insurance and some other things. You think the guy would learn, but eh, I guess some people never do learn.

Being super broke this week due to bills sucking all our life away, we basically just went grocery shopping on $60  and $10 of bottle returns. (To those not from Michigan, there is a 10 cent return on recyclable bottles if you return them to a machine at the grocery store.  I know we went to Meijer where they have 10 machines and about 3 of them are actually operable at any given time which is awful so there is always waiting in line forever. But, $10 is $10 when you need it.)

On another note, my lucky bamboo plant is still alive and actually thriving.  It's super easy, which is good news to my black thumb.  Just change the water once a week and it seems to be happy.  I also put a tiny bit of rabbit poo in there once as fertilizer.  I may do that again in a couple weeks.  I'm sure Vincent wonders what I do with his poo but, then, he's a rabbit and I'm sure he forgets again in a couple seconds.

                                                 See, its still alive and GREEN, here's the proof.

Vincent found himself to be the recipient of a good haircut this morning to his chagrin.  He was getting that dreadful Angora floof that makes mats.  Plus, I'm sure that since its summer he's actually relived to have a lighter less fluffy coat so he can stay cooler.  He also got a nice nail trimming. I wish my dogs would act as nice as Vincent during a nail trim.  Initially he squirms, but then, he gives up and its over in about five minutes. Also, his nails are clear which makes this dead simple. No guessing at blood vessels.

Vincent is still super fluffy, and because of his incessant squirming I always miss some.  But I like to leave the hair on his head long.  He was rewarded with a yogurt treat and some dandelions; just in case you were thinking I was mistreating him during his morning of beauty. He actually looked much more handsome with all the fluff, but it gets unmanageable and its actually cruel NOT to give Angoras haircuts.

I do need to procure him a bunny palace.  We sell a nice dog camping enclosure that is super awesome for a price of $150.  It'd work nice in the sun room and he wouldn't have to take up an entire room anymore.

Sunday at Belle Isle

Yesterday, my husband and I went to Belle Isle.  We've been there before, watching as volunteer organizations and now the state of Michigan (who have turned it into a state park this year since the city of Detroit went bankrupt) have been slowly restoring the place. 

We have gone through the awesomeness of the Aquarium and the Conservatory and listened to the koi in the koi pond gulp food from the water lilies.

But we have never gotten to see Scott Fountain running before. This was pretty marvelous in that it is nearly 100 years old and all levels of it haven't run in years.  Vandals have been at it, and the elements, and, of course, its antique pipes don't help.

So, here they are, the crappy phone photos my husband and I took.  I really need a new camera.  My camera kinda works, sometimes, when it wants to work properly, but, then, its 13 years old and I just need a new one.  But, the phone is passable, it just doesn't allow for a lot of fiddling and the zoom is only 4X instead of 12X which is what my camera will do when it decides to work correctly.

 

 

  I don't think I've ever seen that much marble in one place.  I really would have liked to have seen the City of Detroit in the late 20s.  It was quite a place.

Video of the Plumbing of the Fountain

 

Here are more photos of Belle Isle. 

  

Bell Tower, it sometimes plays automated bell sounds.

 

                                                    The Conservatory, I really want to live in there.

                                    The koi in the koi pond.  These are very, very large fish.

 And that's my finger. It would be a wonderful photo without it.

 

Fountain outside of the Conservatory. 

 

                               Just imagine if this was the grounds leading up to your house?

More Info on Belle Isle in Case a Visit Needs to be Planned

Happy About a $25 Dryer

We got a dryer at a garage sale for $25 two weeks ago.  Funny, how, even though I was always raised with working appliances, how easily I've adapted to just not having these conveniences.  I don't expect the dryer to last forever, but its kind of amazing how, that after two years of having a non working dryer, that I've completely forgotten how soft clothes out of the dryer can feel.  And that I'm amazed that clothes can be completely dry after an hour.

Now, living without a washing machine, that I have also done, but not comfortably.  I really don't enjoy hanging out at the in laws just for the use of their washing machine nor did I enjoy the creepiness of laundromats. 

I'm grateful to my grandmother for teaching me that, even though she always had a working dryer that she often used the a clothesline anyway.  She claimed she enjoyed the smell of the laundry better, and yeah, I can admit to that little vice.  It DOES smell nicer after hanging out of doors.  The sunshine has also been scientifically proven to kill any bacteria naturally.  All a big bonus.

I guess that lame saying is really true:  You can take a girl out of the country; but you can't take the country out of the girl.

Learning to make do with what you have is a very important survival mechanism.  I'm glad I have that instinct. Guess I should. I come from a long line of farm people. 

I really wish my husband had more of that instinct. He's learning. I'm slowly making a good ol' boy out of him, but he wasn't raised the same way I was.  Not that he had money, in fact, his family was probably even more poor than mine ever was, especially nutritionally, its just that his family never taught him coping mechanisms or survival lessons.  A shame, really. I think that is one of the most important things a parent could ever teach a child.

Getting RId of all the Baggage

I had one of those weird conversations I have sometimes with my spouse where I ask a question such as, in this case:  "Hey, can I get rid of those giant blown out speakers we don't use and the giant annoying cabinet that the record player is perched upon? And can we get rid of those extra fish tanks that no one on Craigslist apparently even wants to pay $10 for? Because, really, we have a small house and a lot of unused crap."

The answer was, "Yeah, my mom is having a garage sale this weekend and we'll haul the fish tanks over there.  And those speakers are junk. The record player is fine, though." 

So, because Jon has been sick this weekend, running a fever and having a sore throat and running to the potty, I've been rather bored on this long weekend and yet not wanting to inflict anything possibly infectious on the rest of the people I know so we didn't really do anything for three whole days.

Which was nice!

But, since I have some sort of ants in my pants, it was also boring.

We took the fish tanks to the garage sale. 

Then I proceeded to toss the junk speakers and cabinet out in the lawn to await trash day.

I hear, "Hey!  Where did the speakers and stuff go?"

I told him I asked him about getting rid of the stuff and that he gave me the okay.

"I did?  I don't remember."

"Yeah, in the same breath that you said we were taking fish tanks to your mom's garage sale."

"Was I playing my video game?"

"No. You were cooking."

"Oh.  I kind of thought since I didn't remember that you wouldn't either and just forget to get rid of that stuff."

"No. I'm not going to forget getting rid of crap we don't use that doesn't really work."

Does anyone else ever have these conversations or is it just at my house?  I'm not ruling out the possibility that my house is some sort of black hole for strange and unpleasant happenings. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

On another note, my backyard now looks like a used appliance store.  We replaced our broken stove with another used stove.  Broken stove went to the backyard.  We replaced our dying washing machine with a less dying washing machine.  Mostly dead washing machine went to the backyard.  And, today, Jon's dad found us a used dryer at a yard sale...so, guess what, broken dryer went to join its buddies in the backyard.  There is also an air conditioner out there and at least one other air conditioner that needs to join the scrap heap. 

I'm really hoping his dad will stop by with his scrap trailer and just take it all at once.  Too many Jeep trips and waiting in line at the scrap yard for all that. 

I'm also hoping my neighbors will tolerate my backyard appliance center graveyard (at least for a while) and not complain to the Township.  Thus far, they've been super tolerant of our broke-ass redneck ways. 

I would also like to clean out the shed and other random junk around the house. But, most of it is in smaller chunks than say, an appliance. 

Cell Phone Commits Suicide (Among Other Things)

The "adventures" of last week.

Tossed cell phone in washing machine (it had apparently decided to go for a swim). However, it never did dry out properly and fried itself in protest when I turned it on to try and call someone, deep sixing all known phone numbers as its final act of revenge. 

Jon's "new" phone he bought off of Ebay from some less than stellar human being had been refurbished, and badly...as the charging port ended up no longer able to charge so...he left an email for the seller and they have decided to return our money and include return shipping in the refund.  No fight, no discussion.  Turns out that particular scumbag has had this happen in the past. 

Thus, we were phone-less most of the week, which, because we only have one car created some logistical issues about who was picking whom up when.

Investigated many cell plans.  Decided, not surprisingly, on the cheapest.  Ended up with Metro.  It will be okay, I think.  We don't travel that often as we don't have the funds.  Two phones, I got the smallest "free after rebate" smart phone I could get as it needs to be in my pocket...and Jon got a larger one.  So...$49 bucks a piece for two new phones (actually new)  that will be refunded once I mail in the rebates...no contract, got to keep my old number (nice because I finally, after 4 years remember it) and am rid of Verizon...who has somehow decided it is okay to charge people $60 a month for a single line....ummm...wow...I was considering keep them just so Jon could have a Metro and use all the text and data and stuff and I would have better coverage until I found out what highway robbers they are.  Our bill with Metro will end up being the same as our Verizon bill was and with more things, and no overages.  So that's nice. I can text. And people can text me.  I probably will owe Verizon some money, shouldn't be much. I think we ended at the very end of the billing cycle.  And I never renewed our contract...we've been out of contract for....2 years?  Something like that.  They kept sending me "get a new phone!" propaganda in the mail.

It was an expensive trip to the phone store, though.  Two phones, two cases, two insurances...(just until we see how we end up doing with the big glass screens...and then we can cancel it..you just can't add it later.)  The guy was super nice and gave us 35% off on cases and such...and told us we can cancel the insurance if we want and that my plan can be lowered since I won't be using so much data as Jon (who gets bored at work and will be using lots) but that for the rebate just for this first bill the plan needed to be higher.  So in the end, to save $50 I had to spend an extra $10...and yeah, I want that $40 difference.  Plus taxes.  Whatever.  I have a phone that works, and since we are driving a potential mechanical breakdown, I kind of need a phone.

Otherwise, the sun is finally out today!  After all this rain lately I'm so ready for there to not be rain. Unloading trucks in the rain sucks donkey dick.  Wouldn't be so awful but its also been fairly chilly, as in, I've relented and turned the furnace back to the "on" position at night. 

I planted all the clearance tulip and iris bulbs I bought at TSC after the ground had already frozen to concrete last fall. $1 a bag for 6 bulbs in a bag.  Even if some of them don't survive, a good deal.

This morning I did a load of laundry and am lazing around wondering why that fan I bought at Meijer doesn't actually move any air. I can fart harder than it blows.  I guess I'm not supposed to be using it to dry laundry, but since its cold out and I don't have a dryer, that's what's happening.

Hello, Oscar the Grouch

What a beautiful morning outside. I wish I cared.  This weekend has been such a drag.

Friday night was a bust as I gave my phone a bath in the washing machine.  I still have it in some dried peas.  There is still moisture inside the front flip screen. (Yes, I am a dinosaur, but I really don't want a smartphone because I will just break it.  My job is hell on phones and so am I.)  It did turn on yesterday then I returned it to the peas so maybe all will be well, who knows.

Then Jon dropped a bomb that he and his mom and I go out to dinner.  I wasn't feeling particularly awesome because my body declares nuclear war on me monthly so I stayed home.  I just wasn't going to be good company.

Funeral yesterday where people wore tee shirts of the deceased and an unknown Pastor made ludicrous remarks about his faith and everyone else's.  He left me argumentative and a bit angry.  Why mention that he is a Baptist if the next statement out of his mouth is that it doesn't matter what denomination of Christianity a person belongs to?  Why try to convert people at a funeral?  Also, I can't think of a more miserable location than the Local Eagles club.  Brown seventies plastic paneling on the walls, an incessant drip drip drip coming from behind the bar, weird ceiling tiles with random things poking out and an indescribable smell that I can only think of as "old" plus "old cigarette" plus "formaldehyde"?  Yes, I really want to be trapped in this room with a bunch of people who didn't even want to see each other (Jon's family is highly dysfunctional, to put it mildly) for I think --two hours of preacher babble.  This man went on forever.

Then to top it all off, Jon brings his friend Levon over. Usually, this is fine, but apparently, shortly before Jon arrived at Levon's house, he'd sucked down a case of beer or something, so by the time they got over to our house Levon was obnoxiously drunk.  Obnoxious.  Loud.  Unsteady. Loud.  Levon is not by definition loud at any other time.  We went out to dinner at some place I can only describe as Subway for tacos.  Oh, the food was really good, but you line up at a counter and they cook your food in front of you and toss it into a burrito or whatever and you freeze in the dining room because every table apparently is near an air conditioning vent and its not warm enough in Michigan yet to even turn air conditioning on. We ate and came back home and Levon wanted to go back to his house, which was fine, because he still had a pint of vodka with him he was nursing and I have to say, I really prefer quiet drunks.

Jon then went out "for a little while" to see other friends.  This turned out to be 8 hours.  Spending all this time at home alone with no transportation available really really sucks.   Plus my phone is marinating in washing machine water so I'm afraid to use it to call and say, hey, come home, I'm lonely.

Today, well, apparently we have the required Mother's Day Dinner out of the way...which is good because I really don't want to pretend to be enjoying myself.  Unfortunately, this stupid holiday will make actually going anywhere and doing anything enjoyable out of the question because I hate crowds. I'd like to go to the zoo but unfortunately it is nice outside and not raining so it will be packed with hordes of ankle biters and their mothers.

I still have oodles of chores to do that I really don't want to do.  I forgot to buy any form of cat litter so the litter box is extra stinky. I really thought I had some equine fresh left.  The dishes are piled up, the washing needs done, and the vacuuming and blah blah blah.  I need to mow the yard.  I like mowing the yard, but today I am crabby and feel I've been cheated out of my weekend.

I just want to find some nowhere and take a nice relaxing walk in the woods with dogs unleashed and no people or cars.  That's how I always used to de-stress.  That is an option now closed to me, as I don't live anywhere near a nowhere or a woods.

I get tired of going outside and being barked at by the neighbor's dogs, or having my dogs bark at random people...or being observed in my fish bowl yard smack in the middle of town.  Be nice if my fence was 12 feet tall instead of 4 and made of wood instead of being cyclone fence.

Jon is doing his part to get us out of here by religiously playing the Mega Millions, but our luck, well, its not the kind of luck anyone would want.

Is It Spring Yet?

Since I have been leading a quite uneventful life lately, which is good, because once I get bored, I'm sure the laws of physics will plot against me and do something horrible like send a flying monkey directly into the path of my windshield while I am on the freeway, I suppose I should post something.  So, here it goes.

I have developed a special kind of hatred for my assistant store manager of five months.  After I have answered the very same question six times a day with "I don't know, I haven't been trained to be an assistant store manager because that duty is of an importance above my pay grade and responsibility."  I just want to squish him with the forklift.  Not that I couldn't be an assistant store manager, or that I don't deserve to be one, just that after five months I'd have been stalking the manager for information on my job.  This guy seems to just not care that he makes the big bucks.  I'd like to make the big bucks.

My freight truck was a no show this week. Turns out the driver drove to New Haven instead of New Hudson, and since that store has no receiver, some goon unloaded the truck without reading the manifest and next week I am going to have one hell of a mess to clean up since they stocked all the dog food that was supposed to be sent to our store before they noticed a mistake was made.  I'm glad I am not in that guy's shoes since the District Manager was asking for him personally this morning.

We actually have a working, though, hardly new, oven.  It will probably outlive me.  We made nachos and gluten free corn bread and chocolate cake.  Jon even liked the gluten free stuff.  Surprising, since he is usually really negative about it being "different."  It's not that different and I really think he'd feel better if he'd try going gluten free. He has so many allergies, I wouldn't be surprised if gluten was one.

I am still a bottle blonde even though it is an amazing amount of work.  I still am tempering the yellow with a mix of conditioner and purple dye.  It washes out and I have to redo it every week but it keeps the weird, neon yellow away.

Jon has been referring to his gigantic goldfish as "The Gold Shark."  I don't know why, but it cracks me up.

The freeway most convenient to me is now closed until October and the construction crews work 24 hours a day to accomplish this massive amount of work.  It is currently stripped down to dirt, some bridges are missing, and there are two concrete crushing, manufacturing plants stuck smack in the middle of where we all used to drive.  Just wish the overflow from the freeway didn't spill out onto roads not designed to handle it. 

We also have a washing machine hanging out in our living room as we wait for the other one to finish dying.  It started making a  SQUEEEEE and then I washed something really really muddy and the mud must have gotten into the bearing and the SQUEEEEE stopped for a while. Now, it is making a weird grinding noise so I assume its death is imminent. 

It is nearly May and the grass is beginning to turn green.  It has been such an awful winter. I can't wait to turn the furnace off.  I even see a few leaves sprouting on some trees. Not mine, though, mine are always last to leaf and last to drop.

I have been watching Mad Men and wishing alcohol was still acceptable in the workplace. 

My father in law bought me a lucky bamboo plant.  Hmmm...maybe it will be lucky and survive my black thumb.  Or maybe it will help change my usual bad luck.  Remains to be seen.

And, that is that for now.