Hello again.
I have been busy setting up for Christmas. This is my favorite time of the year and the fact that I have no cash has not deterred me from decorating. If you have glue, glitter, paper and ribbon, you can almost create the entire holiday from scratch.
I have gone a total vintage theme this year and I am in love with it. I will post pictures later this week. I have bought only two things this season. One is the color wheel for my aluminum tree and one giant apothecary jar (that was on sale!) to hold the fake snowballs I made. I want to show the tree with the color wheel, so that is why the pictures will be posted later.
In other wonderful news, my new relationship is going fantastic. I went to Los Angeles for a vacation and oh my gosh, it was nirvana. The sun, the sun, the sun! those people sure have a lot of sun! We spent most of our time in a town that I believe is called Channel Islands, it is by Oxnard or something like that. Anyway, it totally beautiful. It is right on the water and all these houses are located on little canals. I hope to live there someday, right after I win the lottery and can afford something. It was so relaxing and warm, plus the company was awesome.
The kid came home for Thanksgiving and that was just the icing on the cake. He returns home for the Christmas season this week and all will be awesome in my world.
The ex is still a dork. The money and job situation is worse than ever but I am remaining focused and positive. Maybe I will receive a Christmas miracle.
The dogs are both well and just as insane as always. Hope all is well with you and you are having a wonderful start to the holiday season.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Monday, November 9, 2009
Fun facts
Random fun facts of my life these days.
The shoe has decided to grace my life with its presence. I thank the home for returning my shoe right before the 40 days and 40 nights of horrible rain we are having arrived. I really needed it to start building my ark and getting ready for the swarm of locusts that I expect will also show up sometime soon.
My I-phone has decided to speak German and only German. No other languages shall be accepted. What happens if I don't speak German? Nothing. It is trying to teach me a lesson in how pissed off can one person get before they huck the phone into the ocean. What is has taught me is that apple SUCKS and I will never update my I-phone again.
Olive has learned to get into my bed. My high four poster beautiful linen covered sanctuary. I now may or may not be missing a kidney. Also, I will never sleep as deeply as I once did before 68 lbs of dog landed directly on my middle. In the dark. In the middle of the night. Totally unannounced and frankly, unwanted.
My garage has flooded.
My windshield wipers are broken on my car and my model of Range Rover is the ONLY year you need to have a service man put them on. I am number 62 on the wait list and scheduled for the first part of July. That is SO helpful.
I have had to touch goo to unplug the storm drain in front of my home. Of course, I waited until my driveway had flooded with enough pebbles and sand that I could easily open my own gravel pit. Funny enough, I thought the city took care of their own storm drains. Turns out, NO.
The push broom I own has the broom part but no handle. How exactly do you lose the handle to a broom?
I hope everyone is having as much fun in their day to day lives as I am.
The shoe has decided to grace my life with its presence. I thank the home for returning my shoe right before the 40 days and 40 nights of horrible rain we are having arrived. I really needed it to start building my ark and getting ready for the swarm of locusts that I expect will also show up sometime soon.
My I-phone has decided to speak German and only German. No other languages shall be accepted. What happens if I don't speak German? Nothing. It is trying to teach me a lesson in how pissed off can one person get before they huck the phone into the ocean. What is has taught me is that apple SUCKS and I will never update my I-phone again.
Olive has learned to get into my bed. My high four poster beautiful linen covered sanctuary. I now may or may not be missing a kidney. Also, I will never sleep as deeply as I once did before 68 lbs of dog landed directly on my middle. In the dark. In the middle of the night. Totally unannounced and frankly, unwanted.
My garage has flooded.
My windshield wipers are broken on my car and my model of Range Rover is the ONLY year you need to have a service man put them on. I am number 62 on the wait list and scheduled for the first part of July. That is SO helpful.
I have had to touch goo to unplug the storm drain in front of my home. Of course, I waited until my driveway had flooded with enough pebbles and sand that I could easily open my own gravel pit. Funny enough, I thought the city took care of their own storm drains. Turns out, NO.
The push broom I own has the broom part but no handle. How exactly do you lose the handle to a broom?
I hope everyone is having as much fun in their day to day lives as I am.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Laundry Chutes are dangerous
Did you think I was gone for good?
Nope, just trying to get my life sorted out.
I am on a laundry kick. With only one person, you can go a whole lotta time before you do laundry but eventually you open the pants drawer, to find, no pants. Wow! how does that happen? So I put on a pair of sweats and march all the way to the basement. To the basement laundry room where creepy crawlies exist and I try to stay out of it.
How strange! no pants in the laundry hamper. I am officially pant less. I accuse Olive and she wags her tail, which I have no idea what that means and I'm pretty sure she has no idea either. I trot back upstairs, no pants. Now I am not the smartest bulb in the world but I am pretty sure I own pants. Pants that for the life of me I cannot find.
I head over to the laundry chute. Now I have an old house. In the olden days, men planned the homes and built the homes but women were expected to run them. So it is nice in the old house that I drive right into the garage with a lovely tool bench and power galore. Men needed that and it was convenient that it was so close to them. Men however, did not need the laundry room and therefore it is located the furthest distance from the point of dirty clothes, in the basement right next to the furnace, the coal chute, the water tank, and the sump pump to keep the basement dry. I know, it is so brilliant to put it right there.
Of course, three flights of stairs up is where all the dirty stuff accumulates, so they gave the old house a laundry chute, going down. Going up, is a whole different ball game. It involves a woman, baskets, trying to see around the giant load of towels and not falling all the way back down the stairs. Add in two dogs twirling around and it is just a match made in heaven.
So today I peer down the laundry chute. It is dark. I reach my hand down and can feel something, which I desperately hope is clothes. I decide to get the broom. I will use the broom to shove the blockage down the laundry chute. Down the stairs I go and retrieve the broom. Up stairs I go. I shove and shove and push and push. Nothing happens. I have now made a lovely tight brick of clothes that are plugging the chute. I go to the second floor and open up the second door to the chute, nothing, which means it is somehow wedged up on the first floor.
I trudge back upstairs to access the problem. Of course, the dogs think this is a fine game and lets just play it all day long. I sweep the stairs, since they are covered in dog hair and I have the broom out. Then in hits me. I will throw something VERY HEAVY down the opening, it will knock the wedge of clothes loose and victory shall be mine.
Hmmmm! what to throw? Then it comes to me, my shoe. My tennis shoe. I have ginormous feet and that should just send those stupid clothes plummeting to the basement with my shoe on top, like a cherry on top of a sundae. I get the shoe. I go upstairs to the laundry chute. I huck that shoe for all it is worth. I wait for the lovely sound of clothes falling. I hear . . . nothing.
Nothing! that was a giant shoe. How did my brilliant plan not work?
I stare down into blackness. I go back to the second floor and stare up into blackness. I reach up and touch a shoe lace. I yank. Nothing. I yank harder. Still nothing. I go back upstairs, I shove that broom with all my might and I use some curse words for good measure.
Everything gives way. The broom shoots out of my hand and down the chute. I lose my balance and hit my head on the wall. I hear the clothes falling and it is a lovely sound. I am gleeful. I make the dogs sing "I am women, hear me roar."
I run downstairs to see pants, lots and lots of pants. I start to separate the clothes, when it hits me, where is the shoe? Shouldn't the shoe be on top of the heap. Where in the hell is the cherry shoe.
I can barely crawl up the stairs. I totally am in major hatred of the laundry chute. I look up and down on the second floor, I look down from the top floor. I get the broom and huck it down the chute. It comes out, with no shoe. I can feel the laces but no matter how hard I pull that shoe is wedged somewhere in the chute. I am not singing anymore. That shoe is still in there.
So the good news, is I now have pants but I will be wearing flip-flops for the winter since my shoe is vacationing inside my house. Literally.
Nope, just trying to get my life sorted out.
I am on a laundry kick. With only one person, you can go a whole lotta time before you do laundry but eventually you open the pants drawer, to find, no pants. Wow! how does that happen? So I put on a pair of sweats and march all the way to the basement. To the basement laundry room where creepy crawlies exist and I try to stay out of it.
How strange! no pants in the laundry hamper. I am officially pant less. I accuse Olive and she wags her tail, which I have no idea what that means and I'm pretty sure she has no idea either. I trot back upstairs, no pants. Now I am not the smartest bulb in the world but I am pretty sure I own pants. Pants that for the life of me I cannot find.
I head over to the laundry chute. Now I have an old house. In the olden days, men planned the homes and built the homes but women were expected to run them. So it is nice in the old house that I drive right into the garage with a lovely tool bench and power galore. Men needed that and it was convenient that it was so close to them. Men however, did not need the laundry room and therefore it is located the furthest distance from the point of dirty clothes, in the basement right next to the furnace, the coal chute, the water tank, and the sump pump to keep the basement dry. I know, it is so brilliant to put it right there.
Of course, three flights of stairs up is where all the dirty stuff accumulates, so they gave the old house a laundry chute, going down. Going up, is a whole different ball game. It involves a woman, baskets, trying to see around the giant load of towels and not falling all the way back down the stairs. Add in two dogs twirling around and it is just a match made in heaven.
So today I peer down the laundry chute. It is dark. I reach my hand down and can feel something, which I desperately hope is clothes. I decide to get the broom. I will use the broom to shove the blockage down the laundry chute. Down the stairs I go and retrieve the broom. Up stairs I go. I shove and shove and push and push. Nothing happens. I have now made a lovely tight brick of clothes that are plugging the chute. I go to the second floor and open up the second door to the chute, nothing, which means it is somehow wedged up on the first floor.
I trudge back upstairs to access the problem. Of course, the dogs think this is a fine game and lets just play it all day long. I sweep the stairs, since they are covered in dog hair and I have the broom out. Then in hits me. I will throw something VERY HEAVY down the opening, it will knock the wedge of clothes loose and victory shall be mine.
Hmmmm! what to throw? Then it comes to me, my shoe. My tennis shoe. I have ginormous feet and that should just send those stupid clothes plummeting to the basement with my shoe on top, like a cherry on top of a sundae. I get the shoe. I go upstairs to the laundry chute. I huck that shoe for all it is worth. I wait for the lovely sound of clothes falling. I hear . . . nothing.
Nothing! that was a giant shoe. How did my brilliant plan not work?
I stare down into blackness. I go back to the second floor and stare up into blackness. I reach up and touch a shoe lace. I yank. Nothing. I yank harder. Still nothing. I go back upstairs, I shove that broom with all my might and I use some curse words for good measure.
Everything gives way. The broom shoots out of my hand and down the chute. I lose my balance and hit my head on the wall. I hear the clothes falling and it is a lovely sound. I am gleeful. I make the dogs sing "I am women, hear me roar."
I run downstairs to see pants, lots and lots of pants. I start to separate the clothes, when it hits me, where is the shoe? Shouldn't the shoe be on top of the heap. Where in the hell is the cherry shoe.
I can barely crawl up the stairs. I totally am in major hatred of the laundry chute. I look up and down on the second floor, I look down from the top floor. I get the broom and huck it down the chute. It comes out, with no shoe. I can feel the laces but no matter how hard I pull that shoe is wedged somewhere in the chute. I am not singing anymore. That shoe is still in there.
So the good news, is I now have pants but I will be wearing flip-flops for the winter since my shoe is vacationing inside my house. Literally.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Seeing someone
I am seeing someone. It is still early yet, so it is all so new but it is nice.
I had forgotten how wonderful men can be.
It is fantastic to be reminded.
I had forgotten how wonderful men can be.
It is fantastic to be reminded.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Absolutely Nothing to Report.
We have officially entered the horrible rainy season at the coast. Not the kind of rain that actually waters stuff but the misting kind that makes my hair poof up and be seen from space. I totally hate it.
I have power. I now have had power three TOTAL days in a ROW. It is like winning the Power ball only with no money and instead a light bulb that works. Super!
The dogs have been very poorly behaved and I think Olive is going through her terrible two's at 8 months of age. In all things bad, she is well ahead of the curve. In two days, she has chewed up three rugs, 2 shirts, 1 pair of pants and 1 billion unmentionables. You can say "Why don't you pick up your clothes, you messy thing. Didn't your mother teach you any better?" And the answer would be no, she didn't teach me any better but I have picked them up and put them in the hamper. Only Olive has figured out if you throw your giant hairy body against the hamper, it falls over and Boom, all sorts of fun has just been scattered around the laundry room. I am looking for a heavier hamper or a lighter dog, which ever I find first shall solve the problem.
So other than that, it is a very boring mundane existence I am leading. And I am so FINE with that. After all the excitement of the last year, a little boring is nice. I am reading A LOT. I am crafting. I am calm and content. I really hope it takes for a while.
I have power. I now have had power three TOTAL days in a ROW. It is like winning the Power ball only with no money and instead a light bulb that works. Super!
The dogs have been very poorly behaved and I think Olive is going through her terrible two's at 8 months of age. In all things bad, she is well ahead of the curve. In two days, she has chewed up three rugs, 2 shirts, 1 pair of pants and 1 billion unmentionables. You can say "Why don't you pick up your clothes, you messy thing. Didn't your mother teach you any better?" And the answer would be no, she didn't teach me any better but I have picked them up and put them in the hamper. Only Olive has figured out if you throw your giant hairy body against the hamper, it falls over and Boom, all sorts of fun has just been scattered around the laundry room. I am looking for a heavier hamper or a lighter dog, which ever I find first shall solve the problem.
So other than that, it is a very boring mundane existence I am leading. And I am so FINE with that. After all the excitement of the last year, a little boring is nice. I am reading A LOT. I am crafting. I am calm and content. I really hope it takes for a while.
Monday, October 19, 2009
power
Day three without power! Seriously, there is something so wrong in my world. I had a water leak and it leaked into the fuse box and shorted the whole little thing to pieces. THANK YOU VERY MUCH.
After I figured out it wasn't the whole neighborhood, and oh wasn't this fun with candles and the fireplace, and it was just me without power. Let's just say I am not the brightest bulb in the package. The fact that I have a street light right outside the front of my house, could have been a clue, IF I HAD A MIND.
Emergency power guy came out. He tried. I had power for 30 minutes before it shorted out again. It was a lot like winning the lottery for 30 minutes before you realize you just wrote down the winning numbers on a piece of paper, they are NOT your numbers, which are not even close to the winning numbers. I almost got warm. I almost had a delicious chicken pot pie cooked. I almost had the coffee done. Pop. Back in the dark. Not fun with candles anymore.
The neighbors came with a flashlight. The emergency power guy came out, nothing he could do. I was sent back in time to the 1800's and I did not like it. I read by flashlight. Went to bed at 9:30, I was bored.
Sunday, no power the entire day. Finally about 4:30 yesterday, they got it almost all back on. Only the oven refuses to participate in the let's get our ass in gear and turn on. Today everybody back again to finish the job.
Nothing in my house is to code. Nothing is easy or located in the place it is suppose to be. My meter box is located too close to an open window. In Seaside, it is a law that you can't have your meter box next to a window because at one time, a meter reader was reading a meter, the homeowner thought she/he was a peeping tom, and shot and killed her/him. Now they also have to wear orange vests, the readers not the meter. That needs to move.
My power into the house is too close to an upstairs window that opens. Since I may open the window and play around with live electrical cords, I now need to hire a window guy to make the window inoperable. I can't make this stuff up.
Right now I have power. Tomorrow no power.
I do have to say that this weekend has really repaired my faith in my fellow men. Everyone, and I do mean everyone, has bent over backwards for me. The power guy worked on his birthday. One power guy babysat the other guy's children so he could go on the roof to repair the lines. The power company came out three times yesterday. The neighbors brought me hot food, had me over for dinner, provided me a warm bed, helped me dismantle my driveway gate so I could leave my house. All this has been done with a smile and a kind attitude.
I feel so lucky to have landed here. Though I also like power. A LOT.
After I figured out it wasn't the whole neighborhood, and oh wasn't this fun with candles and the fireplace, and it was just me without power. Let's just say I am not the brightest bulb in the package. The fact that I have a street light right outside the front of my house, could have been a clue, IF I HAD A MIND.
Emergency power guy came out. He tried. I had power for 30 minutes before it shorted out again. It was a lot like winning the lottery for 30 minutes before you realize you just wrote down the winning numbers on a piece of paper, they are NOT your numbers, which are not even close to the winning numbers. I almost got warm. I almost had a delicious chicken pot pie cooked. I almost had the coffee done. Pop. Back in the dark. Not fun with candles anymore.
The neighbors came with a flashlight. The emergency power guy came out, nothing he could do. I was sent back in time to the 1800's and I did not like it. I read by flashlight. Went to bed at 9:30, I was bored.
Sunday, no power the entire day. Finally about 4:30 yesterday, they got it almost all back on. Only the oven refuses to participate in the let's get our ass in gear and turn on. Today everybody back again to finish the job.
Nothing in my house is to code. Nothing is easy or located in the place it is suppose to be. My meter box is located too close to an open window. In Seaside, it is a law that you can't have your meter box next to a window because at one time, a meter reader was reading a meter, the homeowner thought she/he was a peeping tom, and shot and killed her/him. Now they also have to wear orange vests, the readers not the meter. That needs to move.
My power into the house is too close to an upstairs window that opens. Since I may open the window and play around with live electrical cords, I now need to hire a window guy to make the window inoperable. I can't make this stuff up.
Right now I have power. Tomorrow no power.
I do have to say that this weekend has really repaired my faith in my fellow men. Everyone, and I do mean everyone, has bent over backwards for me. The power guy worked on his birthday. One power guy babysat the other guy's children so he could go on the roof to repair the lines. The power company came out three times yesterday. The neighbors brought me hot food, had me over for dinner, provided me a warm bed, helped me dismantle my driveway gate so I could leave my house. All this has been done with a smile and a kind attitude.
I feel so lucky to have landed here. Though I also like power. A LOT.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
A date? or not?
Ok, this weekend sucked. My power box blew up and I had no power all weekend. It just sucked. The neighbors brought over a flashlight and tonight have invited me for dinner. So it is looking up.
I need help. Your help. How do you know if someone asked you out on a date? I mean if they said "Would you like to go on a date?" Even someone as out of the loop as me could understand that.
What if they said "Would you like to go to dinner?" Is that a date invitation? or a hey I'm being nice to the old single lady next door to me? kind of thing. What if they said "Would you like to come over for a drink?" What does that mean? Are these datey kind of things? How does one know?
I really need some advice on this. Do I get dressed up? Arg! this is hard. Plus, he is really a nice guy and I don't want to do something wrong and end up looking like a serious deranged loon. Do you think I should look for a book? a class? a Ouija board?
Someone, anyone please direct me.
I need help. Your help. How do you know if someone asked you out on a date? I mean if they said "Would you like to go on a date?" Even someone as out of the loop as me could understand that.
What if they said "Would you like to go to dinner?" Is that a date invitation? or a hey I'm being nice to the old single lady next door to me? kind of thing. What if they said "Would you like to come over for a drink?" What does that mean? Are these datey kind of things? How does one know?
I really need some advice on this. Do I get dressed up? Arg! this is hard. Plus, he is really a nice guy and I don't want to do something wrong and end up looking like a serious deranged loon. Do you think I should look for a book? a class? a Ouija board?
Someone, anyone please direct me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
