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.