That's right friends, my furnace is now working.
And I fixed it myself.
How, you may ask?
I cleaned out the inducer valve (using a bent paper clip) and the thing started right up.
(This was a trick the furnace repair man taught me during one of the 4 visits he had to make to fix the fucking thing in the winter)
And this time, the trick worked.
Whoo hoo!
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Ok, it's been a bad day
Wait, have I said that before?
Seems like I only blog when I'm really annoyed at the world or something hilariously bad has happened or there is a calamity to report.
What does that say about me?
So here are the annoying things that happened today:
1. My furnace is broken. Again. I've decided not to fix it until the fall. So there, fucking furnace.
2. I got a parking ticket.
3. I got a notice in the mail that apparently I didn't pay a different parking ticket so now owe $60 for that one...
4. my brother is getting married in Iowa over the summer. I'm excited about the wedding, but am very irritated by my parents' lack of making a commitment about their travel plans. And now plane fares have doubled (since 2 weeks ago) to my lovely midwestern destination.
5. my job is driving me insane. love it normally, but i really need a vacation.
6. found out yesterday that I may have to pay for some of my surgery expenses (due to the car accident) out of pocket due to policty limits, etc. oh, that sucks.
7. I have to mow my lawn.
And speaking of lawn mowing...
here's a good thing that happened...
I started mowing the part of the lawn closest to the curb and, because I waited too long to do it, it was a beast, and my arm hurt, and I had to stop. Doesn't help that it is a fucking mile high revine and i always slip and nearly wipe out and cut my leg off every time...
So the curb lawn was half done.
My neighbor (who I have talked to twice and doesn't seem to like me very much) finished the job for me.
What a swell chap.
I think I'm going to invite he and his family to my next BBQ.
Rock on.
Life is good, just momentarily irritating.
Hope you are well on this fine Thurs.
--This Single Gal
Seems like I only blog when I'm really annoyed at the world or something hilariously bad has happened or there is a calamity to report.
What does that say about me?
So here are the annoying things that happened today:
1. My furnace is broken. Again. I've decided not to fix it until the fall. So there, fucking furnace.
2. I got a parking ticket.
3. I got a notice in the mail that apparently I didn't pay a different parking ticket so now owe $60 for that one...
4. my brother is getting married in Iowa over the summer. I'm excited about the wedding, but am very irritated by my parents' lack of making a commitment about their travel plans. And now plane fares have doubled (since 2 weeks ago) to my lovely midwestern destination.
5. my job is driving me insane. love it normally, but i really need a vacation.
6. found out yesterday that I may have to pay for some of my surgery expenses (due to the car accident) out of pocket due to policty limits, etc. oh, that sucks.
7. I have to mow my lawn.
And speaking of lawn mowing...
here's a good thing that happened...
I started mowing the part of the lawn closest to the curb and, because I waited too long to do it, it was a beast, and my arm hurt, and I had to stop. Doesn't help that it is a fucking mile high revine and i always slip and nearly wipe out and cut my leg off every time...
So the curb lawn was half done.
My neighbor (who I have talked to twice and doesn't seem to like me very much) finished the job for me.
What a swell chap.
I think I'm going to invite he and his family to my next BBQ.
Rock on.
Life is good, just momentarily irritating.
Hope you are well on this fine Thurs.
--This Single Gal
Monday, May 26, 2008
My shoes don't fit my carbon footprint
Yeah.
When I was in 7th grade, I competed in a smarty pants team sport -- Creative Problem Solving. Instead of scoring goals, we won "creative points" working in teams to solve the world's problems.
Our team rocked -- a super nerdy scientist-type, a whiz kid literature quoter, the pop culture guru, and me -- the freak artist. We won several competitions (and cool ass multi-tiered trophies), going to state the final year we competed.
Oh yeah, we were that cool.
The issue we worked with in 7th grade was global warming. I remember being completely repulsed by the deforestation of Brazil by American companies like McDonald's. I was amazed by how the ice shelf was melting, how the food chain has been disrupted, and how people were causing chaos in the natural world.
I was amazed, repulsed, and creatively solving the problem. In my team. For a trophy.
I have to admit, my concern did not make a huge impact on my life at the time. It took about 20 years to sink in and Al Gore to poke me before I woke up and realized I am contributing to the problem. Not them -- us. Including me.
Now, that I am back living in Seattle, and recently moved to the burbs (aka on I-5 waaaaay more than I would like to), I have become very conscious of how my choices impact the environment. I'm trying to make some changes...
So, first, I have to ask -- have you calculated your carbon footprint? If not, you can do so here: Carbon Footprint. I filled out the form and was aghast. Truly.
And then the Catholic guilt complex started creeping in, and I decided to take a look around and see if there was anything I could do to offset said footprint. I needed to get my sixe 9 shoes back on the 209 size footprint.
Some of my attempts:
1. Compost -- despite my previous rat infestation and my eternal fear of the rat creature, I have a compost bin in my kitchen which is lined with a Bio Bag. I take the compost out and deposit it in my yard waste bin. The garbage folks pick up the yard waste every other week. In fact, my trash bin is about 1/3 the size as the yard waste and recycle bins. Nice psychological tricks, King County. It's worked on me.
2. Light Bulbs -- I've replaced most of my light bulbs with energy saving ones I bought at Cosco. Many cities offer a coupon to buy energy saving builbs, and IKEA (which you know I love) will recycle burned out bulbs for you. Just like they do with Christmas trees... once it gets closer to the season, I'll regale you with the tale of my friend Karen's IKEA Christmas tree and I-5.
3. Lawn mower -- I use a reel mower (push). Exhausting sometimes, especially with a bum arm. And when you don't mow your lawn as much as you should. But it is good exercise, and it cuts the lawn fine... I have a Brill Lexus. It is awesome.
4. Lawn -- I do not use chemicals on my lawn. For weeds, I use vinegar and / or salt water (put it on a sunny day and those things will wither away, roots and all!) or my fabulous dandelion popper tool thing. I am in the process (which will take a few years) of replacing the grass with native perennials. I can't wait to never mow the lawn again, and these plants are drought resistance / require less water than grass.
5. Cleaning agents -- I use plant - based sponges (no paper towels) and cleaning sprays. I'm currently obsessed with Trader Joe's sponges (which you can compost) as well as their Next to Godliness laundry detergent, cleaner, and dishwashing liquid.
6. Bus -- I try to take the bus to work at least once a week. Because I have a million doctor appointments due to the accident, sometimes this is not possible, but I try...
7. No car day -- Once a week, I don't drive. Anywhere. For a whole day. Today was my no car day this week. Had a lovely one.
8. Eat local, eat organic -- I do my best to eat locally grown organic produce, supporting local farmers that grow their crops without pesticides. I currently subscribe to spud!, an organic produce / food delivery service which delivers a box of produce to my house twice a month. I've found it tricks me to stay home and eat, eat healthier, and eat more veggies. Good stuff.
Just some thoughts on ye olde carbon footprint. I'm working on mine. And you?
Hope you have enjoyed your weekend.
--This Single Gal
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Bone,Thugs, and Harmony -- A)nother) Tale from A(nother) Single Gal
So my friend Laura was walking down the street the other day, minding her own business, when a chap approached her.
"Good afternoon, miss."
"Good afternoon, miss."
"Yeah?"
"Well, I just saw you walking down the street and I thought you were attractive so I.."
"Ok, thanks." And she starts to go.
"Wait, um," he reaches into his pocket.
Laura is thinking one of two things: he is going to stab me to death, or he is going to shoot me to death. She begins to retreat. Rapidly.
"Wait, I have something for you."
"I don't want it. Thanks." She starts walking away.
"I don't normally do this, but, here's my card. Why don't you give me a call? We can go out."
Laura starts to laugh. She takes the card.
IT reads (and this is a quote):
Gentalthug (spelled this way)
his name
his phone number
his MySpace
"You don't usually do this, but you have business cards?"
"Yeah. Well, give me a call."
"I'll do that."
Laura walks away from the Gentalthug. She couldn't have been 50 feet away before he approached another woman.
Whatever works, I suppose... I wonder what would happen if I tried something like that...
Hope you are enjoying the weekend.
--This Single Gal
Friday, May 23, 2008
Single Gal Biceps, part 1
Hello everyone,
I've had a splendid day. And you?
I saw my surgeon. Scheduled surgery for my shoulder on June 11.
I so do not want to do this, I can't tell you.
I curse the woman who hit me with her car last summer.
I know it was an accident, but !%#%@#. Okay, I'll say it -- FUCK!
With the surgery scheduling comes the panic of -- how am I going to take care of myself? Get around? I cannot drive for 6 weeks. THIS is the time when it super seriously sucks to be single.
I tell you.
Below is a story my pal Shelby Lee Jenkins (a single gal herself) wrote about developing and using her Single Gal Biceps. My upcoming surgery will help me develop my single gal bicep (singular, I can't use my left arm).
Exerpt reprinted here with her permission. Enjoy!
-- The Single Gal
SINGLE GAL BICEPS
(c) 2008, Shelby Lee Jenkins
I am a single female living in LA and I believe the best part about being single, is having Single Girl Biceps. For those of you who are not single and have no clue what I am talking about, Single Girl Biceps are large upper arm muscles that form and are constantly toned simply because you are single. For example, when you are a Single Girl and you make a trip to the grocery store, you have to bring in the 12 bags of groceries by yourself all at the same time because many trips back and forth from the car to your apartment gets to be annoying and possibly dangerous. Other ways of forming Single Girl Biceps: taking out your own garbage and recycling, lifting the hood of your car to check the oil, mending the upholstery in your car, flapping your arms at the car alarm installers because they broke something in the car during the install, hauling your luggage from the airport shuttle van to the e-ticket check-in kiosk and then lugging that luggage back and forth trying to find the ONE TSA agent who is actually checking baggage rather than standing around staring his shoes. And who can forget doing your laundry at the Laundromat, but first having to park 2 blocks away and carry the heavy laundry basket and soap across 4 lanes of traffic. Nothing like a playing virtual Frogger with dirty clothes.
Single Girl Biceps form over time and are a critical part of surviving on your own in the world. But wait, I am getting ahead of myself. Let’s talk about how one gets these biceps
{...}
by being a bridesmaid…but never a bride. Single Girl Biceps are especially useful when you get bestowed the title of MOH…“Maid Of Honor.” Do you know what the honor is? When you are the Maid of Honor you get to hold your bouquet in addition to this insanely heavy bridal bouquet. Why does every bride choose the biggest and heaviest bouquets?? BECAUSE SHE IS NOT the one who has to hold it. The second she arrives at the altar she pawns it off to the lady standing next to her. So, here you are Single Girl holding your own flower bouquet, and now her HUGE bouquet and you are also in charge of gracefully bending over with both bouquets and somehow manage to fluff her gown without anyone noticing you do it. And of course, smiling the whole time.
[...]
Then when the ceremony is over, the bride is so overcome with love and joy she FORGETS to take her bouquet back from you, so now you have to carry two heavy bouquets down the aisle. Which all and all, the two bouquets are usually lighter than that darn bustle you have to tie up after the ceremony. And who can forget that the bridesmaids do more heavy lifting after “The I Dos” have been said…you have to help the bride go potty and do that without soiling her 30 pound dress.
Also, with your toned arms you have to physically, but with grace--steer the bride from table to table so she can greet her guests. And even if you are not taking care of the bride, you are not resting because you have to use your buff arm muscles to push the Crazy Drunk Uncle off innocent bystanders and it does not matter whose wedding it is, no one can ever remember why The Crazy Drunk Uncle was invited to the wedding. Ah, like I said and have experienced many times…weddings are always the best way to strengthen those Single Girl Biceps.
A lot of Single Girl Biceps are toned when it involves the car. And I have to say sometimes Single Girl Biceps are even handier when you are actually dating someone!!! I remember once that I had to remove a bum that fell asleep under my vehicle. I was dating a guy at that time and we needed to leave, but my “beau” did not know what to do. I said, “Why don’t you start by getting him out from under my car.” He asked, “How?” UGGGGH. I threw up my arms and walked over to the sleeping bum and started to poke at him gently and told him to wake up and move. That did not work so I had to shake him a little harder and spoke a little louder. He finally woke up and stumbled off and we were able to leave only because of my mighty powerful Single Girl Biceps.
Then another time, I took my car to the auto mechanic and I knew I was being bamboozled. I was seriously being robbed by these slimy mechanics. But as we all know…once they have you car up on the lift…there is really nothing you can do because you want your vehicle back in one piece. So, I asked the guy I was seeing to drive me over to the shop to pick up my car. I asked him not for just the ride, since I could have taken the bus, but since he was male I thought that somehow him being there would make these shady men stop screwing with me. So we get there and I am told the insane ransom amount for the repair of my Chevy Corsica, and my male companion did nothing except stand there. I could not believe it. He stood there frozen. I was so tired of fighting with those sub-human car mechanics, so I gave up and paid. I thought my male companion could have at least spoken “man-speak” to these guys so they would stop ripping me off. But no, he sat in the lobby chair pretending to be invisible. After paying, we walked over to my car and what do I see? GREEN coolant was visibly dripping from under my car. I turned and looked at my male companion and he again was like a concrete statue. I was not sure who I was more upset with at that moment, the evil car mechanic or the guy I was dating who was not creating a scene and standing up for me. So, I created the scene. I threw up my arms and started waving them around, toning and stretching my Single Girl Biceps while I got the mechanic over to my car to take a look at the leaking coolant. “Oh yeah, that is not right,” he mumbled. So, he grabbed the garden hose and sprayed water inside the engine to remove the leaking GREEN coolant. After he finished spraying, I grabbed my keys and drove off. I never went back to that mechanic and the relationship with that fella came to a close shortly there after….I mean if you are not going to stand up for me when I need you…then really it is time for me to move on and find someone who will. In the meantime, my biceps were really starting to look nice…
The coolant story happened about 10 years ago, but as we all know if it is not ONE thing with the car it is another. Just a few months ago, I needed to change my headlight. Not a problem. I can do that and have done that in the past with my other cars. However, with Valencia, my new car, I have changed other lights on her, but not her headlight. I picked one up at Auto Zone, drove home and began the challenge. I opened her hood and took apart the headlight area. That was when I noticed someone before me had broken a piece off of the headlight casing and then jerry-rigged it back together. Hmmm. This was going to be a bigger puzzle than anticipated. By now, I was up to my elbows in dirt and grease and at that time I had really long hair, so it was everywhere inside the engine. I managed to get the new headlight in, but the problem was keeping it in place while I fiddled with the jerry-rigged piece that kept the cover in place…I bent the wire one way and whoops…“boing” there went the wire somewhere inside the engine. Great. Now, if I wasn’t single, what would my perfect handy male companion do? No better yet, what would MacGyver do? I took a deep breath, marched into my apartment, and got a hair rubber band and a paperclip.
The hair rubber band was for my hair and the paperclip for the car.
I bent it this way with my Biceps and bent it the other way with my Biceps. Eventually, I bent it the correct way and fit it back in and snapped it all back together again and voila…I had a working headlight!!!
I was so proud of myself.
More from Shelby Lee Jenkins and Single Gal Biceps to come.
I've had a splendid day. And you?
I saw my surgeon. Scheduled surgery for my shoulder on June 11.
I so do not want to do this, I can't tell you.
I curse the woman who hit me with her car last summer.
I know it was an accident, but !%#%@#. Okay, I'll say it -- FUCK!
With the surgery scheduling comes the panic of -- how am I going to take care of myself? Get around? I cannot drive for 6 weeks. THIS is the time when it super seriously sucks to be single.
I tell you.
Below is a story my pal Shelby Lee Jenkins (a single gal herself) wrote about developing and using her Single Gal Biceps. My upcoming surgery will help me develop my single gal bicep (singular, I can't use my left arm).
Exerpt reprinted here with her permission. Enjoy!
-- The Single Gal
SINGLE GAL BICEPS
(c) 2008, Shelby Lee Jenkins
I am a single female living in LA and I believe the best part about being single, is having Single Girl Biceps. For those of you who are not single and have no clue what I am talking about, Single Girl Biceps are large upper arm muscles that form and are constantly toned simply because you are single. For example, when you are a Single Girl and you make a trip to the grocery store, you have to bring in the 12 bags of groceries by yourself all at the same time because many trips back and forth from the car to your apartment gets to be annoying and possibly dangerous. Other ways of forming Single Girl Biceps: taking out your own garbage and recycling, lifting the hood of your car to check the oil, mending the upholstery in your car, flapping your arms at the car alarm installers because they broke something in the car during the install, hauling your luggage from the airport shuttle van to the e-ticket check-in kiosk and then lugging that luggage back and forth trying to find the ONE TSA agent who is actually checking baggage rather than standing around staring his shoes. And who can forget doing your laundry at the Laundromat, but first having to park 2 blocks away and carry the heavy laundry basket and soap across 4 lanes of traffic. Nothing like a playing virtual Frogger with dirty clothes.
Single Girl Biceps form over time and are a critical part of surviving on your own in the world. But wait, I am getting ahead of myself. Let’s talk about how one gets these biceps
{...}
by being a bridesmaid…but never a bride. Single Girl Biceps are especially useful when you get bestowed the title of MOH…“Maid Of Honor.” Do you know what the honor is? When you are the Maid of Honor you get to hold your bouquet in addition to this insanely heavy bridal bouquet. Why does every bride choose the biggest and heaviest bouquets?? BECAUSE SHE IS NOT the one who has to hold it. The second she arrives at the altar she pawns it off to the lady standing next to her. So, here you are Single Girl holding your own flower bouquet, and now her HUGE bouquet and you are also in charge of gracefully bending over with both bouquets and somehow manage to fluff her gown without anyone noticing you do it. And of course, smiling the whole time.
[...]
Then when the ceremony is over, the bride is so overcome with love and joy she FORGETS to take her bouquet back from you, so now you have to carry two heavy bouquets down the aisle. Which all and all, the two bouquets are usually lighter than that darn bustle you have to tie up after the ceremony. And who can forget that the bridesmaids do more heavy lifting after “The I Dos” have been said…you have to help the bride go potty and do that without soiling her 30 pound dress.
Also, with your toned arms you have to physically, but with grace--steer the bride from table to table so she can greet her guests. And even if you are not taking care of the bride, you are not resting because you have to use your buff arm muscles to push the Crazy Drunk Uncle off innocent bystanders and it does not matter whose wedding it is, no one can ever remember why The Crazy Drunk Uncle was invited to the wedding. Ah, like I said and have experienced many times…weddings are always the best way to strengthen those Single Girl Biceps.
A lot of Single Girl Biceps are toned when it involves the car. And I have to say sometimes Single Girl Biceps are even handier when you are actually dating someone!!! I remember once that I had to remove a bum that fell asleep under my vehicle. I was dating a guy at that time and we needed to leave, but my “beau” did not know what to do. I said, “Why don’t you start by getting him out from under my car.” He asked, “How?” UGGGGH. I threw up my arms and walked over to the sleeping bum and started to poke at him gently and told him to wake up and move. That did not work so I had to shake him a little harder and spoke a little louder. He finally woke up and stumbled off and we were able to leave only because of my mighty powerful Single Girl Biceps.
Then another time, I took my car to the auto mechanic and I knew I was being bamboozled. I was seriously being robbed by these slimy mechanics. But as we all know…once they have you car up on the lift…there is really nothing you can do because you want your vehicle back in one piece. So, I asked the guy I was seeing to drive me over to the shop to pick up my car. I asked him not for just the ride, since I could have taken the bus, but since he was male I thought that somehow him being there would make these shady men stop screwing with me. So we get there and I am told the insane ransom amount for the repair of my Chevy Corsica, and my male companion did nothing except stand there. I could not believe it. He stood there frozen. I was so tired of fighting with those sub-human car mechanics, so I gave up and paid. I thought my male companion could have at least spoken “man-speak” to these guys so they would stop ripping me off. But no, he sat in the lobby chair pretending to be invisible. After paying, we walked over to my car and what do I see? GREEN coolant was visibly dripping from under my car. I turned and looked at my male companion and he again was like a concrete statue. I was not sure who I was more upset with at that moment, the evil car mechanic or the guy I was dating who was not creating a scene and standing up for me. So, I created the scene. I threw up my arms and started waving them around, toning and stretching my Single Girl Biceps while I got the mechanic over to my car to take a look at the leaking coolant. “Oh yeah, that is not right,” he mumbled. So, he grabbed the garden hose and sprayed water inside the engine to remove the leaking GREEN coolant. After he finished spraying, I grabbed my keys and drove off. I never went back to that mechanic and the relationship with that fella came to a close shortly there after….I mean if you are not going to stand up for me when I need you…then really it is time for me to move on and find someone who will. In the meantime, my biceps were really starting to look nice…
The coolant story happened about 10 years ago, but as we all know if it is not ONE thing with the car it is another. Just a few months ago, I needed to change my headlight. Not a problem. I can do that and have done that in the past with my other cars. However, with Valencia, my new car, I have changed other lights on her, but not her headlight. I picked one up at Auto Zone, drove home and began the challenge. I opened her hood and took apart the headlight area. That was when I noticed someone before me had broken a piece off of the headlight casing and then jerry-rigged it back together. Hmmm. This was going to be a bigger puzzle than anticipated. By now, I was up to my elbows in dirt and grease and at that time I had really long hair, so it was everywhere inside the engine. I managed to get the new headlight in, but the problem was keeping it in place while I fiddled with the jerry-rigged piece that kept the cover in place…I bent the wire one way and whoops…“boing” there went the wire somewhere inside the engine. Great. Now, if I wasn’t single, what would my perfect handy male companion do? No better yet, what would MacGyver do? I took a deep breath, marched into my apartment, and got a hair rubber band and a paperclip.
The hair rubber band was for my hair and the paperclip for the car.
I bent it this way with my Biceps and bent it the other way with my Biceps. Eventually, I bent it the correct way and fit it back in and snapped it all back together again and voila…I had a working headlight!!!
I was so proud of myself.
More from Shelby Lee Jenkins and Single Gal Biceps to come.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Daisy's photo shoot
Hi folks,
This has been a super crap crap week in my world.
Hope yours hasn't been as bad as mine.
I don't feel like writing about it, so instead I'll distract you (and myself) with some lovely photos my friend Teresa took at the dog park a few weeks ago. The black dog -- my roommate, the lovely Daisy. The Golden -- Teresa's dog Willow.
Enjoy!
This has been a super crap crap week in my world.
Hope yours hasn't been as bad as mine.
I don't feel like writing about it, so instead I'll distract you (and myself) with some lovely photos my friend Teresa took at the dog park a few weeks ago. The black dog -- my roommate, the lovely Daisy. The Golden -- Teresa's dog Willow.
Enjoy!
Monday, May 19, 2008
The Tale of A(nother) Single Gal
My single gal pal Shannon was in a car accident (yeah, I know, but it's not mine, ok?) last week. Here is her recount of the accident:
What happened: I was stopped on Layfette Highway. There was a car full of farmworkers in front of me, who had stopped. Honestly, we were waiting a while...like a good 4 cars had passed in that lane...when all of a sudden out of nowhere, I was hit from behind by a semi.
The point of impact was the left side of the trunk, which caused the entire trunk to crunch in and all his roofing supplies flew in to my back window-luckily they lodged into the base of the window and the trunk and not my head-then he turned right really fast and hit the front of my car, which caused me to spin...so that tore up the entire front...and the back...the tires...and my side of the car. He said he didn't see us stopped and then he couldn't stop in time.
I was hit, I said outloud: WHAT THE HECK!? (truly...no swears...not even in a crisis) and then all of a sudden I smelled that horrible smell of burned rubber...and I knew something was very wrong. I looked out the window (I'd been staring at the dashboard) and all I could see was tons of blue and black smoke everywhere. Stupidly, I jumped out of my car and I stared at my car...and I go: "I can't afford this! I can't afford this!" Then, I walked to the front and I was all: "I can't afford this...I can't miss work...I can't miss work..." Then, the semi-truck driver who hit me comes running over to me and he says: "Oh, miss! ARe you okay? " I blurted out-which would become my only audible sentence all morning: "I've never been in an accident before."
Anyway, the firemen, paramedics, cops are all there...and you guessed it: Every single one I met I kept saying, "Hi. I've never been in an accident before. He said he was sorry he hit me...he just didn't see me...I've never been in an accident before." Everyone was so nice to me...And the state trooper...bless him...he said, "Miss, I will take care of everything...your car is totalled...but, it's a miracle that you're even alive..." Then they towed my little car away...
Then, everyone keeps coming to me, "who's picking you up? We'll wait with you." and "Do you have someone to pick you up?" And I had to say 10 times to all the people...each one..."No. I don't have anyone." Then the cop and the fireman were all, "No one? You don't know anyone?" And I go, "No...I don't have anyone...I'm sorry I'm a loser." Then they all felt bad and they were all, "Oh, you're not a loser! It's just early...I"m sure everyone's at work..." and I go, "No...it wouldn't matter...I'm all alone." Then, they felt really badly...and then I hear everyone saying to each other, "No...she doesn't have anyone to pick her up...don't ask her!"
The cop drove me all the way home, even though he was stationed in McMinnville and lives in Sheridan and it was the end of his shift. He also showed me how to use the radar, the laser, the video camera, the lights, the sirens...all in all it was a fun ride back.
This Single Gal got a 30 mile ride home from a trooper because she didn't have anyone to pick her up.
The next day, I get this email from her (by the way, she knows I'm doing this...). She never curses... ever... and then this...
PS: I totally blew up at teh Wells Fargo Financial people who had just refinanced my car loan. The guy kept saying: what do you mean you've never heard of gap insurance? It's common Knowledge in the car field... it's not our fault you didn't know what it was who did you think would pay for your loss? Of course a company is only going to pay what it's worth and not what you owe...that's just common knoweldge...it's not our fault that you didn't do your homework...
It was at that point that I just let loose. I told him to stop using his condescneding tone with me, that their company preys on clients, I told him not to bring up homework with me because I have 2 master's I just don't what the car world is...that's why I rely on my trusty banks and insurance companies to help me... He kept interrupting and I said: Hey customer service guy: don't you ever interrupt me when I'm speaking... He said: I don't have to listen to you talking to me this way... I said: Yeah, doesn't feel good does it customer service guy...I'll spare you...but just one more thing: Yea...it was classy: "Why don't you go home and fuck yourself you predator. If you're not recording this call, you better be now: when you go home tonight and you're eating all cute with your family...think of how you fucking bankrupted a hardworking volunteer who's going to be fired because I have no car to drive myself to work you goddamn son of a fucking bitch...oh and by the way: fuck you, you assholian fucker... Then I slammed the phone...then I cried....
Don't fuck with the single gal. ..
What happened: I was stopped on Layfette Highway. There was a car full of farmworkers in front of me, who had stopped. Honestly, we were waiting a while...like a good 4 cars had passed in that lane...when all of a sudden out of nowhere, I was hit from behind by a semi.
The point of impact was the left side of the trunk, which caused the entire trunk to crunch in and all his roofing supplies flew in to my back window-luckily they lodged into the base of the window and the trunk and not my head-then he turned right really fast and hit the front of my car, which caused me to spin...so that tore up the entire front...and the back...the tires...and my side of the car. He said he didn't see us stopped and then he couldn't stop in time.
I was hit, I said outloud: WHAT THE HECK!? (truly...no swears...not even in a crisis) and then all of a sudden I smelled that horrible smell of burned rubber...and I knew something was very wrong. I looked out the window (I'd been staring at the dashboard) and all I could see was tons of blue and black smoke everywhere. Stupidly, I jumped out of my car and I stared at my car...and I go: "I can't afford this! I can't afford this!" Then, I walked to the front and I was all: "I can't afford this...I can't miss work...I can't miss work..." Then, the semi-truck driver who hit me comes running over to me and he says: "Oh, miss! ARe you okay? " I blurted out-which would become my only audible sentence all morning: "I've never been in an accident before."
Anyway, the firemen, paramedics, cops are all there...and you guessed it: Every single one I met I kept saying, "Hi. I've never been in an accident before. He said he was sorry he hit me...he just didn't see me...I've never been in an accident before." Everyone was so nice to me...And the state trooper...bless him...he said, "Miss, I will take care of everything...your car is totalled...but, it's a miracle that you're even alive..." Then they towed my little car away...
Then, everyone keeps coming to me, "who's picking you up? We'll wait with you." and "Do you have someone to pick you up?" And I had to say 10 times to all the people...each one..."No. I don't have anyone." Then the cop and the fireman were all, "No one? You don't know anyone?" And I go, "No...I don't have anyone...I'm sorry I'm a loser." Then they all felt bad and they were all, "Oh, you're not a loser! It's just early...I"m sure everyone's at work..." and I go, "No...it wouldn't matter...I'm all alone." Then, they felt really badly...and then I hear everyone saying to each other, "No...she doesn't have anyone to pick her up...don't ask her!"
The cop drove me all the way home, even though he was stationed in McMinnville and lives in Sheridan and it was the end of his shift. He also showed me how to use the radar, the laser, the video camera, the lights, the sirens...all in all it was a fun ride back.
This Single Gal got a 30 mile ride home from a trooper because she didn't have anyone to pick her up.
The next day, I get this email from her (by the way, she knows I'm doing this...). She never curses... ever... and then this...
PS: I totally blew up at teh Wells Fargo Financial people who had just refinanced my car loan. The guy kept saying: what do you mean you've never heard of gap insurance? It's common Knowledge in the car field... it's not our fault you didn't know what it was who did you think would pay for your loss? Of course a company is only going to pay what it's worth and not what you owe...that's just common knoweldge...it's not our fault that you didn't do your homework...
It was at that point that I just let loose. I told him to stop using his condescneding tone with me, that their company preys on clients, I told him not to bring up homework with me because I have 2 master's I just don't what the car world is...that's why I rely on my trusty banks and insurance companies to help me... He kept interrupting and I said: Hey customer service guy: don't you ever interrupt me when I'm speaking... He said: I don't have to listen to you talking to me this way... I said: Yeah, doesn't feel good does it customer service guy...I'll spare you...but just one more thing: Yea...it was classy: "Why don't you go home and fuck yourself you predator. If you're not recording this call, you better be now: when you go home tonight and you're eating all cute with your family...think of how you fucking bankrupted a hardworking volunteer who's going to be fired because I have no car to drive myself to work you goddamn son of a fucking bitch...oh and by the way: fuck you, you assholian fucker... Then I slammed the phone...then I cried....
Don't fuck with the single gal. ..
Sunday, May 18, 2008
I had waaaaay too much wine.
I have a story to tell today.
A story of a drunken evening and a dance back into my early 20s.
Believe me, it's rare that I have anything exciting to tell about my personal life these days, so there's fodder for a juicy blog post. And I could get into details and mention scandalous words and see the sitemeter on my blog go nuts.
However.
My father reads my blog. My friends. Colleagues and a million other randoms.
So, I'm having a sort of internal ethical blog debate. How much do I reveal of this incident? Of others? At what cost? To myself? To other people?
Where do we draw the curtains on the false familiarity of cyberspace? Not everyone needs to know everything about everyone else.
Right?
Um
Right?
As I sat down to write today, I debated and debated about what to write. Although I may have appeared to be in my early 20s last evening, I am not, and with my maturity comes a cautious protectiveness of my privacy.
So, gentle reader, you will not get details, and I will leave my Saturday evening to your imagination.
Doesn't that make it more interesting, anyway?
Hope you have enjoyed your weekend. It's been beautiful in Seattle.
-- The Single Gal
A story of a drunken evening and a dance back into my early 20s.
Believe me, it's rare that I have anything exciting to tell about my personal life these days, so there's fodder for a juicy blog post. And I could get into details and mention scandalous words and see the sitemeter on my blog go nuts.
However.
My father reads my blog. My friends. Colleagues and a million other randoms.
So, I'm having a sort of internal ethical blog debate. How much do I reveal of this incident? Of others? At what cost? To myself? To other people?
Where do we draw the curtains on the false familiarity of cyberspace? Not everyone needs to know everything about everyone else.
Right?
Um
Right?
As I sat down to write today, I debated and debated about what to write. Although I may have appeared to be in my early 20s last evening, I am not, and with my maturity comes a cautious protectiveness of my privacy.
So, gentle reader, you will not get details, and I will leave my Saturday evening to your imagination.
Doesn't that make it more interesting, anyway?
Hope you have enjoyed your weekend. It's been beautiful in Seattle.
-- The Single Gal
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Bouncing things annoy me
When I was in undergraduate school, I lived across the hall from two lovely chaps -- Paul and Scott. During the course of our freshman year, Paul got weirder, Scott came out, and my roommate, Jenel, and I tried desperately to stay out of their room.
Because it smelled bad.
The chaps never did their laundry, so it mildewed and molded and stunk to high heaven. I remember standing in the middle of their room (they weren't there -- I broke in somehow) with a bottle of Lysol and spraying (the whole thing) in an attempt to cleanse the hallway of the scent.
Um, gross.
Scott and Paul were generally great neighbors. They were kind, funny, and were willing to sit around and play music / talk about art with me. They shared candy. I liked them.
Most of the time.
When he was stressed, Scott used to stand in the hallway between our room and his in his boxers and juggle pins.
This often happened during mid-terms. At night. When procrastination could no longer be a friend. You know the time...
So Scott juggled. He wasn't very good.
And he dropped the pins...
All
of
the
fucking
time.
It drove me insane, especially at 3 in the morning -- thud, thud, thud -- while writing a paper of your own.
I blame the pin drops as the source of my current sensitivity to bouncing things. And hearing bouncing things.
I'm currently annoyed out of my gourd by the kids in my 'hood bouncing basketballs at seemingly all times of the day and night.
They remind me too much of the pins.
Apparently, I am a grumpy curmudgeon. Sad. I thought I'd be there about 40 years from now...
Because it smelled bad.
The chaps never did their laundry, so it mildewed and molded and stunk to high heaven. I remember standing in the middle of their room (they weren't there -- I broke in somehow) with a bottle of Lysol and spraying (the whole thing) in an attempt to cleanse the hallway of the scent.
Um, gross.
Scott and Paul were generally great neighbors. They were kind, funny, and were willing to sit around and play music / talk about art with me. They shared candy. I liked them.
Most of the time.
When he was stressed, Scott used to stand in the hallway between our room and his in his boxers and juggle pins.
This often happened during mid-terms. At night. When procrastination could no longer be a friend. You know the time...
So Scott juggled. He wasn't very good.
And he dropped the pins...
All
of
the
fucking
time.
It drove me insane, especially at 3 in the morning -- thud, thud, thud -- while writing a paper of your own.
I blame the pin drops as the source of my current sensitivity to bouncing things. And hearing bouncing things.
I'm currently annoyed out of my gourd by the kids in my 'hood bouncing basketballs at seemingly all times of the day and night.
They remind me too much of the pins.
Apparently, I am a grumpy curmudgeon. Sad. I thought I'd be there about 40 years from now...
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
A leaf! A leaf! and other random things...
I spied with my naked (is that the right part of this saying?) eye...
a budding leaf on the hedge in front of my house.
It is a glorious day in hedge land...
The hedge! It regroweth.
In other news...
last week I went out on two dates with two different people.
Both lovely.
Both times I left with a "let's do it again" ending.
And, several days later...
Neither have called.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever.
In other other news...
I haven't slept well for several days. I don't know why.
Perhaps this is why the random things are pouring out today.
In other other other news...
I made some super tasty gluten free muffins today. Ever since I have been gluten free (three years now) my health has improved significantly. But, since I come from an ancestral line of bakers (my family still owns a bakery in Sedlice U Blatne, Czech Republic, thank you very much) and I love me some bread, giving up gluten was not easy. Most of the gluten free products on the market suck the big one. The breads are especially heinous -- gritty and gnasty with an oh so lovely over-quinoa aftertaste.
I decided to give up and try to make my own.
Since I have few cooking / baking skills (apparently I did not inherit them) I have to rely on a recipe. I have found some good gluten free ones on the back of Bob's Red Mill gluten free flours as well as in Clean Eating and Living Without magazines.
And I rely on a little help from my friends... who give me recipes.
Ok.
The Target ads with the "goodbuy" theme have got to stop.
And so does the 94 children in my neighborhood bouncing basketballs in front of my house at all hours of the day.
Perhaps I need to get out more...
And I need some sleep.
a budding leaf on the hedge in front of my house.
It is a glorious day in hedge land...
The hedge! It regroweth.
In other news...
last week I went out on two dates with two different people.
Both lovely.
Both times I left with a "let's do it again" ending.
And, several days later...
Neither have called.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever.
In other other news...
I haven't slept well for several days. I don't know why.
Perhaps this is why the random things are pouring out today.
In other other other news...
I made some super tasty gluten free muffins today. Ever since I have been gluten free (three years now) my health has improved significantly. But, since I come from an ancestral line of bakers (my family still owns a bakery in Sedlice U Blatne, Czech Republic, thank you very much) and I love me some bread, giving up gluten was not easy. Most of the gluten free products on the market suck the big one. The breads are especially heinous -- gritty and gnasty with an oh so lovely over-quinoa aftertaste.
I decided to give up and try to make my own.
Since I have few cooking / baking skills (apparently I did not inherit them) I have to rely on a recipe. I have found some good gluten free ones on the back of Bob's Red Mill gluten free flours as well as in Clean Eating and Living Without magazines.
And I rely on a little help from my friends... who give me recipes.
Ok.
The Target ads with the "goodbuy" theme have got to stop.
And so does the 94 children in my neighborhood bouncing basketballs in front of my house at all hours of the day.
Perhaps I need to get out more...
And I need some sleep.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Um...
I found out today that I need surgery on my elbow as well as my shoulder as a result of the lovely car accident from last summer.
The thing that super sucks is that the surgeries cannot be done at the same time.
I've done fairly well maintaining my sanity during this year of hell. But, I have to admit, my attitude really blows right now. And, I'm sure my friends are completely sick of me complaining all of the time.
I need a new topic of conversation....
So, today I will rant on the car accident nightmare and it will be the last post on this topic in May (I promise! -- wait, do I hear applause?)...
Thus, I share this...
Why being injured in a car accident blows chunks:
1. you have to go to the doctor 84 times a week
2. none of your doctors talk to each other so you have to tell them everything everyone else already knows.
3. the insurance company employees are assholes
4. you have to hire a lawyer because of 3
5. you don't get jack for pain and suffering because of 4
6. after the initial accident, people forget you are injured and ask you to go skiing 94 times a month.
7. puts a damper on dating
8. puts a damper on pretty much everything
9. you are in pain constantly
10. you seriously consider amputation
11. you never want to see an US Weekly again
12. you stop playing the "what does he have" game in the waiting room; you know all of the people there.
13. you have to fill out a lot of forms
14. you lose / waste a lot of time dealing with items 1 - 14.
My upcoming surgeries will lay me out for about 6 months total. I am so over the whole thing, I can't tell you.
I think I need to get out my hammer and start nailing things... with my good arm, of course.
Ta da! Done.
The thing that super sucks is that the surgeries cannot be done at the same time.
I've done fairly well maintaining my sanity during this year of hell. But, I have to admit, my attitude really blows right now. And, I'm sure my friends are completely sick of me complaining all of the time.
I need a new topic of conversation....
So, today I will rant on the car accident nightmare and it will be the last post on this topic in May (I promise! -- wait, do I hear applause?)...
Thus, I share this...
Why being injured in a car accident blows chunks:
1. you have to go to the doctor 84 times a week
2. none of your doctors talk to each other so you have to tell them everything everyone else already knows.
3. the insurance company employees are assholes
4. you have to hire a lawyer because of 3
5. you don't get jack for pain and suffering because of 4
6. after the initial accident, people forget you are injured and ask you to go skiing 94 times a month.
7. puts a damper on dating
8. puts a damper on pretty much everything
9. you are in pain constantly
10. you seriously consider amputation
11. you never want to see an US Weekly again
12. you stop playing the "what does he have" game in the waiting room; you know all of the people there.
13. you have to fill out a lot of forms
14. you lose / waste a lot of time dealing with items 1 - 14.
My upcoming surgeries will lay me out for about 6 months total. I am so over the whole thing, I can't tell you.
I think I need to get out my hammer and start nailing things... with my good arm, of course.
Ta da! Done.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Of a good and bad weekend...
I've had a mildly entertaining weekend. Since this was the first time in about a month I haven't been hocking up a lung, it was nice to get out and actually do something.
The somethings:
1. I worked yesterday. Which sucked. Three hour meeting. People yelled at each other. I tried to calm them down.
2. I went to Ikea. I bought some lawn furniture. I ate some meatballs. It was good.
3. I went on a date. It was also good.
4. I tried to put together my Ikea lawn furniture. It was not so good.
Okay.
Usually I feel like a bad ass when I put together Ikea crap HOWEVER, this time I decided Ikea was an ass.
In general.
So I'm using the allen wrench. Sweating up a storm, builting things, feeling good.
I'm done with one chair.
I'm done with the second chair.
I'm done with the table.
Then came the fucking bench.
The.
Fucking.
Bench.
The pieces would not fit together.
And, truly, this was not my fault.
(Well, it might have been, but I blame the fuckers at Ikea)
So I screamed.
Scared the dog.
And then decided that it was time to bust out the cure-all single gal utensil...
THE HAMMER.
I started pounding shit.
It didn't fix a thing.
I scared the dog again.
I ate some chocolate.
I put the lawn furniture away.
It has the appearance of structure...
Now I just have to remember to fix it before someone actually sits on it...
if I don't,
then maybe that person will want to use a hammer for other means...
Hope you've enjoyed your weekend.
-- This Single Gal
The somethings:
1. I worked yesterday. Which sucked. Three hour meeting. People yelled at each other. I tried to calm them down.
2. I went to Ikea. I bought some lawn furniture. I ate some meatballs. It was good.
3. I went on a date. It was also good.
4. I tried to put together my Ikea lawn furniture. It was not so good.
Okay.
Usually I feel like a bad ass when I put together Ikea crap HOWEVER, this time I decided Ikea was an ass.
In general.
So I'm using the allen wrench. Sweating up a storm, builting things, feeling good.
I'm done with one chair.
I'm done with the second chair.
I'm done with the table.
Then came the fucking bench.
The.
Fucking.
Bench.
The pieces would not fit together.
And, truly, this was not my fault.
(Well, it might have been, but I blame the fuckers at Ikea)
So I screamed.
Scared the dog.
And then decided that it was time to bust out the cure-all single gal utensil...
THE HAMMER.
I started pounding shit.
It didn't fix a thing.
I scared the dog again.
I ate some chocolate.
I put the lawn furniture away.
It has the appearance of structure...
Now I just have to remember to fix it before someone actually sits on it...
if I don't,
then maybe that person will want to use a hammer for other means...
Hope you've enjoyed your weekend.
-- This Single Gal
Thursday, May 8, 2008
I have entrepreneureal (but not spelling) skillz
I like making shit up. Like... brainstorming ideas for household inventions that someone should create, build, market and sell. I'd do it myself and rake in all of the cash, but, you know, the thing is, I have no engineering skillz, I'm slightly lazy, and my arm hurts, so even though I conjure up some brilliant ideas, they are going nowhere. Fast.
And I complain that I need more money...
Today's invention has to do with a semi-monthly task I loathe with all of my being.
Clipping Daisy's toenails.
They are long.
Really long.
Clawish freaky Guinness Book of World Record long.
Embarrassingly I am a horrible pet owner long.
And the disclaimer...
But, you see, I am incapable of doing them myself. As several vets have written on her chart notes, Daisy is: "too wiggly." I cannot hold her and clip. I cannot hold her period. So... she will not stand still for the toenail clipping. It takes about 45 people to hold her down, and then she cries the whole time.
Heart wrenching.
I can't stand it.
So, usually, when her nails are grossly long, I emerge from my fog of laz-i-tude simply out of sheer terror, and I take the pooch to Petco. And make them do it.
The Petco groomers are lifesavers, I tell you.
Somehow, I can't get myself to haul her to Petco right now even though her nails will cut you from 7 miles away. I have no excuse other than Petco (and all of its doggy splendor) seems too overwhelming after trudging through another day of 45 degrees and rain.
This winter needs to end.
ANY TIME NOW.
Ok, enough about me.
The invention...
Wouldn't it be cool if there was a Barbie-Dream-House style dog parlor? You shove them in, they go through some sort of car wash system (powered by solar energy and biodegrable soap and hand cranks and recycled water) which the dog rolls on via conveyer belt, fluffed, folded, nails clipped.
I think it is a freakin' genius idea. I would buy one, wouldn't you? Maybe it could even come with an Easy Bake oven attachment.
You wanna make a prototype?
--This Single Gal
And I complain that I need more money...
Today's invention has to do with a semi-monthly task I loathe with all of my being.
Clipping Daisy's toenails.
They are long.
Really long.
Clawish freaky Guinness Book of World Record long.
Embarrassingly I am a horrible pet owner long.
And the disclaimer...
But, you see, I am incapable of doing them myself. As several vets have written on her chart notes, Daisy is: "too wiggly." I cannot hold her and clip. I cannot hold her period. So... she will not stand still for the toenail clipping. It takes about 45 people to hold her down, and then she cries the whole time.
Heart wrenching.
I can't stand it.
So, usually, when her nails are grossly long, I emerge from my fog of laz-i-tude simply out of sheer terror, and I take the pooch to Petco. And make them do it.
The Petco groomers are lifesavers, I tell you.
Somehow, I can't get myself to haul her to Petco right now even though her nails will cut you from 7 miles away. I have no excuse other than Petco (and all of its doggy splendor) seems too overwhelming after trudging through another day of 45 degrees and rain.
This winter needs to end.
ANY TIME NOW.
Ok, enough about me.
The invention...
Wouldn't it be cool if there was a Barbie-Dream-House style dog parlor? You shove them in, they go through some sort of car wash system (powered by solar energy and biodegrable soap and hand cranks and recycled water) which the dog rolls on via conveyer belt, fluffed, folded, nails clipped.
I think it is a freakin' genius idea. I would buy one, wouldn't you? Maybe it could even come with an Easy Bake oven attachment.
You wanna make a prototype?
--This Single Gal
Monday, May 5, 2008
Why I need a chainsaw...
When you own a house, you need to buy a lot of shit that you never thought of owning when you live in an apartment. Like: a rake, shovel, dog crap scooper, an awl (what the hell is an awl)... you know, shit like that.
Well, friends, I've decided I need a chainsaw.
Let's discuss the many uses of said chainsaw:
1. Chop down ugly ass hedges.
2. Chop down dead arborvitae (of which I have um three)
3. Cut up fallen tree branches to burn in the fireplace
4. Saw up wood for projects (what they are I don't know, but wouldn't it be fun to cut stuff?)
and
5. Amputation
That's right, I said: amputation.
I've had enough of my left arm, friends. Enough. My injuries from last summer's car accident become more irritating / painful / frustrating / pick your adjective by the day and I've had enough.
I want to chop it off.
I saw a new doctor last week (who I loved, by the way) who said -- yes, you need surgery, your arm is currently dislocated and unstable and we need to go in ASAP. I sighed. I nearly cried. And then I said, and well, ok, in addition to my shoulder issue, there's this little thing about the elbow I've been complaining about since my accident. All other doctors have blown me off about the elbow. But my good doc -- well, poke, prod, tra la. Something's very wrong here. So, ;et's look into it.
And a request for an elbow MRI.
Ok. Hell.
I've had 4, count them 4, MRIs as a result of this car accident. The two related to my arm were the most fucking painful hellish badness ever. The MRI today (of the elbow variety) was horrible. It was so painful and I thought I was going to burn up (they shoved me to the far far side of the gurney to get good images of the elbow) so I cried during the whole thing.
Let me tell you, friends, never get t-boned on the driver's side by some stupid dork dork woman (who finds the whole thing funny). Because if you do, you may want a chainsaw, too.
Well, friends, I've decided I need a chainsaw.
Let's discuss the many uses of said chainsaw:
1. Chop down ugly ass hedges.
2. Chop down dead arborvitae (of which I have um three)
3. Cut up fallen tree branches to burn in the fireplace
4. Saw up wood for projects (what they are I don't know, but wouldn't it be fun to cut stuff?)
and
5. Amputation
That's right, I said: amputation.
I've had enough of my left arm, friends. Enough. My injuries from last summer's car accident become more irritating / painful / frustrating / pick your adjective by the day and I've had enough.
I want to chop it off.
I saw a new doctor last week (who I loved, by the way) who said -- yes, you need surgery, your arm is currently dislocated and unstable and we need to go in ASAP. I sighed. I nearly cried. And then I said, and well, ok, in addition to my shoulder issue, there's this little thing about the elbow I've been complaining about since my accident. All other doctors have blown me off about the elbow. But my good doc -- well, poke, prod, tra la. Something's very wrong here. So, ;et's look into it.
And a request for an elbow MRI.
Ok. Hell.
I've had 4, count them 4, MRIs as a result of this car accident. The two related to my arm were the most fucking painful hellish badness ever. The MRI today (of the elbow variety) was horrible. It was so painful and I thought I was going to burn up (they shoved me to the far far side of the gurney to get good images of the elbow) so I cried during the whole thing.
Let me tell you, friends, never get t-boned on the driver's side by some stupid dork dork woman (who finds the whole thing funny). Because if you do, you may want a chainsaw, too.
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Just let me sleep in...
It's 7:30 a.m. on a Saturday. I've been up for an hour. I find this criminal. I am tired and needed a sleep-in this morning. It did not happen.
My lovely roommate, Daisy, decided she needed to have breakfast at her usual time (6:30 a.m.) and wouldn't take no for an answer. Instead, she paced around my bed (and yes, I need to cut her toenails -- they click like mad on my wood floors) and kept pressing her nose on the side of the mattress.
In other words, she woke me up.
Early.
On a Saturday.
Grrrrumble.
Of course, I could just stop bitching (pun intended) and go back to bed. But, unfortunately, I don't function that way. Once I'm up, I'm up.
I get it -- she was hungry. She needed to go outside. But, I have to admit, I wish there was a doggy sleep in remedy. Could I train her to sleep in on specific days? I wonder if I should invent something... people would buy it, right?
Hope you are enjoying your weekend.
--The Single Gal
My lovely roommate, Daisy, decided she needed to have breakfast at her usual time (6:30 a.m.) and wouldn't take no for an answer. Instead, she paced around my bed (and yes, I need to cut her toenails -- they click like mad on my wood floors) and kept pressing her nose on the side of the mattress.
In other words, she woke me up.
Early.
On a Saturday.
Grrrrumble.
Of course, I could just stop bitching (pun intended) and go back to bed. But, unfortunately, I don't function that way. Once I'm up, I'm up.
I get it -- she was hungry. She needed to go outside. But, I have to admit, I wish there was a doggy sleep in remedy. Could I train her to sleep in on specific days? I wonder if I should invent something... people would buy it, right?
Hope you are enjoying your weekend.
--The Single Gal
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Hedge anxiety
The hedge in front of my house is the bane of my existence.
So, of course, I have a whole lotta new hedge anxiety. Of the crap it's dead what do I do variety...
Truly.
For most of the time I have lived here, I fretted about the overgrowth of said hedge, and how its gnarly viney leafy ugliness was reflecting on me as the new kid in the 'hood. And, truth be told, my neat freakness OCD started perking up every time I drove into the driveway or looked out the window.
I tell you, the thing was that bad... or I need some serious psychiatric help... or maybe a combo.
Anyway...
About a month ago the hedge got a big ass haircut. It is no longer overgrown. Due to the over zealousness of my hedge chopping crew, all signs of leaf and limb were shorn to the roots.
And now, my friends, I am nearly certain that the hedge, by my best estimation
is
DEAD.
Dead, I tell you.
Look... an actual unretouched photograph...
So, of course, I have a whole lotta new hedge anxiety. Of the crap it's dead what do I do variety...Many of my friends (and a few of them are landscapers) have assured me that there is no way you can kill this particular hedge (it is ivy on a chain link fence. .. yeah, super glam). I am not convinced. It has been about a month since the hedge slaying and there is absolutely no sign of hedge life.
Nothing.
No leaves.
No greenness.
No viney green things.
Nothing.
I am convinced
it is dead.
I'm having some new-fangled hedge anxiety...
I tell you, the thing is the bane of my existence...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
