I have been remiss in thanking Colin, the kind gent who gave me the info that corrected my template. He has a great blog that I have been meaning to add a link to over there -------> And I am not just saying that because he was so helpful either. You should check him out. Go on. But come right back.
Now. On to the bidness of the day. American Idol tonight, woohoo. I have to go pick up my new dishwasher after work then hurry home to watch it. Yep, $100 for 2 service calls, it would have been $265 more to fix it, and I bought a new one for $235 tax and all. Granted it doesn't have quite all of the features my other one had, but considering I'm pretty distrustful of a dishwasher's ability to actually clean most dishes and thus I practically wash them by hand before loading them in the dishwasher, I don't think a couple fewer features really matters. "Wash-in-very-very-hot-water-to-get-all-possible-rat-germs-off" and "rinse" are really the only 2 settings it needs at this point. Damn, Fucking rats are expensive, but at least tomorrow night I will get to hear the hum of a dishwasher again.
Is it kind of pathetic that I am looking forward to hearing a dishwasher, or is it just me? Hmm, that's what I was afraid of.
Ok, what else. We had a good visit with Phillip on Sunday, at least what there was of the visit. But I'll save that bitchfest for a subsequent entry. It's gonna be a long one.
On the way back from Louisiana we made a slight detour to pick up a dog. No, now stop it, you sound just like my dad, it wasn't yet another dog for me. I picked it up, boarded it overnight, and dropped it off somewhere else the next morning. Just one small step in a series, carried out by several folks in order to unite this dog with his grandma. It is a very sad story really and I'll elaborate on this more in a subsequent entry too.
I actually have kind of a lot of stuff to talk about from this weekend, can you believe it?
Well, ok, those are basically the only 2 things left to talk about.
Unless I want to get into all of the reasons why many of the customers who come into my parents' store irritate me.
I know, I know, they are kind enough to patronize our humble establishment and we should be (and mostly, are) grateful for that. We know about "the customer is always right" and all of that.
Bullshit. The customer is generally an idiot in one way or another.
You will probably think most of what I'm about to say is petty and unreasonable, but if you tally them up on a continual, repeated basis, you'd get pretty fed up too. Here we go:
1. What the hell is a "solid quarter"? As in, "can I get a solid quarter for these 25 pennies?" Nope, sorry, all we have today are those pesky hollow quarters, can't help you.
2. Stinky people. I understand if it is summertime in Texas and you work outside all day and you are coming in to get a cold one after work. I can understand and handle that, unpleasant as it may be. It is reasonable. What I can't handle is the guy who comes in every single day smelling of cat piss. It's my understanding that he has about 30 cats and, from the smell of his clothes, no litter boxes. No washing machine either, as he commented one day that he needed to go to the laundrymat. I don't believe he ever did. Too busy drinking all that booze, I guess. He came in on Saturday and this time it was combo cat piss and cat shit, and I seriously thought I was going to barf. Naturally he is always slow to pay and leave, being guilty of #5 below, but finally I was able to grab the Glade spray. Of course, then it just smelled like cinnamon cat piss and shit. Look, I am not completely heartless, the guy obviously has a problem and I feel sorry for him. But I feel sorry for my sniffer, too. Ugh.
3. People who think that lottery tickets must always be a separate purchase from everything else. Which is almost everyone who buys lottery tickets.
4. People who, after watching me put their stuff into a bag, then take it out of the bag and put it in their pocket or carry it out bagless, etc. You could have just told me you didn't want a bag, they aren't required you know.
5. People who, when I tell them their total, i.e. $6.24, hand me a twenty and then when I am ready to hand them their change, say, "oh, wait, I have the .24". Note this generally happens when there is a long line. Most of the time I don't mind them digging out change, but when their total is $12.98 and they say, "oh, I have the .98," I just want to say "no you f-ing don't, you'll take your 2 pennies and move the line along."
6. Speaking of change... people who pay in change. Nothing but change. Never rolled, and usually not enough to cover what they want to buy. Then they ask if they can "bring the rest to you later." Um, I'm sorry that your last paycheck didn't stretch until your next one because you buy beer every day, but do you go to Wal Mart with not enough money and ask them if you can bring it later? Then why you pullin' that shit here? If you were buying bread or milk or something, I would sympathize, but you want beer.
7. People who come up to the counter with their stuff, then after I've started ringing them up, say "oh, I forgot, I need a something-or-other" that is clear across the store, and they take off to go get it. It especially pisses me off if there is a line, because I can't clear the register until they come back and pay. Argh.
8. People who try to pull the door off the hinges after we've locked it at closing time. State law says we have to close at 9:00 p.m. sharp and if we let anybody in after that, we could lose our license. So in the words of Carole King (and I'm dating myself here), "well, it's too late, baby, now it's too late, though you really did try to make it." Or... "I hear you knockin..... but you can't come in..." For some reason there are several songs that go through my head at various times when people are wanting to come in after closing... I guess I'm evil that way. "You can't. always get. what you waaaaant."
9. Ok, this one doesn't piss me off--it cracks me up. People who run in the door just as I am about to lock it and are so very grateful they got in before we closed, but then they just buy beer, something that they could have bought at 7-11 or any other convenience or grocery store after we closed. Psst... beer guy... there's a dude in the parking lot who we can't let in now who'd pay extra for a bottle, since you made it in and are just buying beer...
There are some advantages to working there, though. I constantly learn new vocabulary. Why, just Saturday I learned a new word. Nudn. As in, "can I cash in this scratch ticket and get a nudn?" Absolutely.
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
You'll be so proud of me
I neglected to mention yesterday (due to 5:00-gotta-get-the-hell-outta-here-time-constraints) the absolute highlight of my Saturday morning.
(By the way, I know yesterday's entry says it was published at 4:18. That is what time I started the entry. I got interrupted by that pesky work stuff. I do not type that slow)
Anyway. Saturday morning I was putting the boxers out as we were about to leave for Kohl's, and something on the patio near the back door caught my eye. At first it looked like a strange clump of mud, but upon closer inspection, I realized this clump of mud had a long tail.
This was no clump of mud.
Obviously from the state it was in, the boxers had already discovered it and "worked it over". Wonderful. Have I mentioned the boxers are very "licky" dogs? I am certain I must have been licked at some point by dog/rat breath. I struggled to remember if either had managed to get a lick on my lips recently - I don't think so. At least.
I knew I couldn't leave it there for them to continue to "play" with, so I did what I had to do - that being, scooping the thing into a dustpan (that I wasn't fond of anyway and which had recently been chewed on by Buddy anyhow) and putting them both into a plastic bag. I still kind of can't believe I did it. I am sure I was only able to do it because it really did at that point just look like a clump of mud and not so much like a critter. Lovely visual, eh?
Yeah. But aren't you just so proud of me?
(By the way, I know yesterday's entry says it was published at 4:18. That is what time I started the entry. I got interrupted by that pesky work stuff. I do not type that slow)
Anyway. Saturday morning I was putting the boxers out as we were about to leave for Kohl's, and something on the patio near the back door caught my eye. At first it looked like a strange clump of mud, but upon closer inspection, I realized this clump of mud had a long tail.
This was no clump of mud.
Obviously from the state it was in, the boxers had already discovered it and "worked it over". Wonderful. Have I mentioned the boxers are very "licky" dogs? I am certain I must have been licked at some point by dog/rat breath. I struggled to remember if either had managed to get a lick on my lips recently - I don't think so. At least.
I knew I couldn't leave it there for them to continue to "play" with, so I did what I had to do - that being, scooping the thing into a dustpan (that I wasn't fond of anyway and which had recently been chewed on by Buddy anyhow) and putting them both into a plastic bag. I still kind of can't believe I did it. I am sure I was only able to do it because it really did at that point just look like a clump of mud and not so much like a critter. Lovely visual, eh?
Yeah. But aren't you just so proud of me?
Monday, February 27, 2006
First, the boring details
Wow, what a weekend. It will probably take me a couple of days to blog through the whole thing.
Friday... I don't even remember. I've slept since then (but just barely). I think I tried to get to bed early. Got up the next morning and went to the big sale at Kohl's even though Jen choaded out. Got the kid some cute clothes for a great price. Then I went to work at the liquor store until time to meet the dishwasher repairman. Met him and spent another $55 (total now $100 in service calls) to have him tell me that it is not as simple as the other guy thought it might be, though that is one of the problems, but additionally, since I ran it when it was already broken unbeknownst to me, it then threw a bearing in the motor. Two words: new dishwasher. Argh. He is coming back on Wednesday to install the new vent hood I got so I can finally ditch the old 70's-looking (which is when the house was built) gold one. He said if I got a new dishwasher before then he would install it at the same time. Looks like I'm goin' shopping tonight.
When I got back to the store on Saturday, my uncle installed my new Sirius radio in the car so we would have it on the trip to Louisiana. It is siriusly cool. (get it? siriusly cool? get it? huh?)
I got the sportster replay model which is kind of like TiVo for your radio, you can play back up to the last 44 minutes or something like that. So far my favorite stations are the 80's station (go figure) and of course the country stations. The traffic and weather channel is convenient - no more waiting around for it come around "on the 8's" on the regular radio.
Oops, gotta go. I've already accidentally stayed at work past 5:00! More later.
Friday... I don't even remember. I've slept since then (but just barely). I think I tried to get to bed early. Got up the next morning and went to the big sale at Kohl's even though Jen choaded out. Got the kid some cute clothes for a great price. Then I went to work at the liquor store until time to meet the dishwasher repairman. Met him and spent another $55 (total now $100 in service calls) to have him tell me that it is not as simple as the other guy thought it might be, though that is one of the problems, but additionally, since I ran it when it was already broken unbeknownst to me, it then threw a bearing in the motor. Two words: new dishwasher. Argh. He is coming back on Wednesday to install the new vent hood I got so I can finally ditch the old 70's-looking (which is when the house was built) gold one. He said if I got a new dishwasher before then he would install it at the same time. Looks like I'm goin' shopping tonight.
When I got back to the store on Saturday, my uncle installed my new Sirius radio in the car so we would have it on the trip to Louisiana. It is siriusly cool. (get it? siriusly cool? get it? huh?)
I got the sportster replay model which is kind of like TiVo for your radio, you can play back up to the last 44 minutes or something like that. So far my favorite stations are the 80's station (go figure) and of course the country stations. The traffic and weather channel is convenient - no more waiting around for it come around "on the 8's" on the regular radio.
Oops, gotta go. I've already accidentally stayed at work past 5:00! More later.
Friday, February 24, 2006
Dear Blogger Dot Com:
What the hell is going on with my template all of a sudden? My sidebar is clear down at the bottom of the page instead of at the top where it belongs. Lord knows *I* certainly didn't go messing with editing any HTML or other settings to cause this, it just happened all of a sudden and it's not fixing itself, so please fix it. It's bothering the crap out of me and it's gotta be bothering everybody else who ventures here too. I keep hoping each time I post something new that it will fix it but it ain't happenin'. Help, Blogger Dot Com. Or anyone else who has any suggestions as to WTF happened.
I'm tired of thinking up blog entry titles
American Idol Update: Ok, I was 2 for 4 on predictions. But batting .500 ain't too bad. Girls Stevie and Becky were voted off, and guys Bobby and Patrick. Bobby didn't seem a bit surprised, and neither did Stevie really.
What I don't like about American Idol is that when people are voted off, they get to sing a final song, that being the song that got them voted off. Thus we are again subjected to usually excruciating performances that few people voted for the first time around. I understand the "one last time in the spotlight" thing, but can't they instead... well, I don't know what I'd suggest. I only know that the results show is one of the few shows I watch in "real time" since I have TiVo, and I literally had to pause it, get up and go do something, then come back and forward through Copacabana and whatever that supposed song was that Stevie sang. The other 2 I thought were ok and shouldn't have been voted off. Not yet anyway. Neither of them would have made it all the way but they shouldn't have been among the first to go either. But anyway.
Radically changing the subject, today my horoscope says: "Feel like you need to gain some insight into your own motivations, but not quite sure how to go about it? Never fear -- the stars are all set to help. Get ready to make a clean mental sweep of some old habits."
Well. Wouldn't that be nice. "A clean mental sweep of some old habits". Doesn't that sound refreshing and revitalizing and brand new. I'm not a believer that the stars are gonna accomplish that for me though. Maybe the crazy pills will help if I give them long enough.
What is gonna get a clean sweep today is all of the snacks in my desk. Man, is today going to be one FATTENING day. Let's see, what do we have here... a small unopened bag of jalapeno flavored potato chips from Quizno's, about 8 chocolate Dove heart candies, about half a 99 cent bag of flamin' hot Cheetos, and a few Goldfish crackers in the bottom of the box. I'm going to get all of this out of here today, namely by eating it, so I can truly, officially start Atkins on Monday.
I know, I know, where have you heard that before, right? You're skeptical. I can't say as I blame you. I think, though, that after eating all of the junk mentioned above, I won't actually feel like eating for awhile anyway.
Come to think of it, I might not wanna eat all 8 of those Dove candies in one day. That could definitely make for some, er, unpleasantness later on. Especially if I pile them on top of jalapeno chips and flamin' hot Cheetos. My stomach's reacting just thinking about it. Or maybe it's that bag of brownie bites and over-sweetened cup of coffee I've already had today.
Are you hungry yet, or am I just making you sick?
What's different about my plan to start Atkins this time is that, remember I said recently I had to go back to the doctor to have another blood test? I had a follow-up appointment on Monday. Dr. Wonderful told me that initially my glucose level was high, at a borderline diabetes level, and the retest was for a full blown diabetes screen. Thankfully that came back negative, but she said that I will probably want to have that checked out every 6 months or so.
Since that didn't in fact sound like something I would actually "want" to do, I inquired if this situation would change if I was to lose some weight. She said it definitely would and if I dropped a few pounds then it likely would never become a problem.
So there you go: Motivation. And, motivation aside from my (something)-year class reunion coming up in June (which wasn't really serving as good motivation anyway), that I have now learned that none of the friends I still have from high school even plan to go to anyway, so why, as one of them so wisely put it, would I want to go to a silly (and expensive) reunion, when I am still friends with all of the people from high school I really cared about anyway? Good point. And those friends don't care if I've put on a few pounds - they're not whispering to each other "wow, look how fat she's gotten since high school". Though apparently my glucose level does care, so effective Monday I will begin actively trying to appease it.
Plans for the weekend: Tonight, take the kid bowling since her night changed from Monday to Friday. Tomorrow morning get up way too early for a Saturday and meet my friend Jen at the big Kohl's sale before going to work at the liquor store at 10:00. Tomorrow afternoon leave the liquor store to meet the dishwasher guy. Go back to the store afterwards. Tomorrow night go home and make final preparations for trip to Louisiana. Sunday morning at 2:00 a.m. head out for trip to LA. Visit Phillip all day (well, till 3:00). Head back home. Stop to eat at that awesome place in Shreveport for my final pre-Atkins meal. Get home and go right to bed. Busy, hectic. and I wish I had had the foresight to take Monday off.
Hmmmm, I think I'm coming down with something (cough cough). Yeah, I definitely think so (sniffle). I just might be sick by Monday. Or maybe I'll just be one of those pesky hypochondriacs for the day.
What I don't like about American Idol is that when people are voted off, they get to sing a final song, that being the song that got them voted off. Thus we are again subjected to usually excruciating performances that few people voted for the first time around. I understand the "one last time in the spotlight" thing, but can't they instead... well, I don't know what I'd suggest. I only know that the results show is one of the few shows I watch in "real time" since I have TiVo, and I literally had to pause it, get up and go do something, then come back and forward through Copacabana and whatever that supposed song was that Stevie sang. The other 2 I thought were ok and shouldn't have been voted off. Not yet anyway. Neither of them would have made it all the way but they shouldn't have been among the first to go either. But anyway.
Radically changing the subject, today my horoscope says: "Feel like you need to gain some insight into your own motivations, but not quite sure how to go about it? Never fear -- the stars are all set to help. Get ready to make a clean mental sweep of some old habits."
Well. Wouldn't that be nice. "A clean mental sweep of some old habits". Doesn't that sound refreshing and revitalizing and brand new. I'm not a believer that the stars are gonna accomplish that for me though. Maybe the crazy pills will help if I give them long enough.
What is gonna get a clean sweep today is all of the snacks in my desk. Man, is today going to be one FATTENING day. Let's see, what do we have here... a small unopened bag of jalapeno flavored potato chips from Quizno's, about 8 chocolate Dove heart candies, about half a 99 cent bag of flamin' hot Cheetos, and a few Goldfish crackers in the bottom of the box. I'm going to get all of this out of here today, namely by eating it, so I can truly, officially start Atkins on Monday.
I know, I know, where have you heard that before, right? You're skeptical. I can't say as I blame you. I think, though, that after eating all of the junk mentioned above, I won't actually feel like eating for awhile anyway.
Come to think of it, I might not wanna eat all 8 of those Dove candies in one day. That could definitely make for some, er, unpleasantness later on. Especially if I pile them on top of jalapeno chips and flamin' hot Cheetos. My stomach's reacting just thinking about it. Or maybe it's that bag of brownie bites and over-sweetened cup of coffee I've already had today.
Are you hungry yet, or am I just making you sick?
What's different about my plan to start Atkins this time is that, remember I said recently I had to go back to the doctor to have another blood test? I had a follow-up appointment on Monday. Dr. Wonderful told me that initially my glucose level was high, at a borderline diabetes level, and the retest was for a full blown diabetes screen. Thankfully that came back negative, but she said that I will probably want to have that checked out every 6 months or so.
Since that didn't in fact sound like something I would actually "want" to do, I inquired if this situation would change if I was to lose some weight. She said it definitely would and if I dropped a few pounds then it likely would never become a problem.
So there you go: Motivation. And, motivation aside from my (something)-year class reunion coming up in June (which wasn't really serving as good motivation anyway), that I have now learned that none of the friends I still have from high school even plan to go to anyway, so why, as one of them so wisely put it, would I want to go to a silly (and expensive) reunion, when I am still friends with all of the people from high school I really cared about anyway? Good point. And those friends don't care if I've put on a few pounds - they're not whispering to each other "wow, look how fat she's gotten since high school". Though apparently my glucose level does care, so effective Monday I will begin actively trying to appease it.
Plans for the weekend: Tonight, take the kid bowling since her night changed from Monday to Friday. Tomorrow morning get up way too early for a Saturday and meet my friend Jen at the big Kohl's sale before going to work at the liquor store at 10:00. Tomorrow afternoon leave the liquor store to meet the dishwasher guy. Go back to the store afterwards. Tomorrow night go home and make final preparations for trip to Louisiana. Sunday morning at 2:00 a.m. head out for trip to LA. Visit Phillip all day (well, till 3:00). Head back home. Stop to eat at that awesome place in Shreveport for my final pre-Atkins meal. Get home and go right to bed. Busy, hectic. and I wish I had had the foresight to take Monday off.
Hmmmm, I think I'm coming down with something (cough cough). Yeah, I definitely think so (sniffle). I just might be sick by Monday. Or maybe I'll just be one of those pesky hypochondriacs for the day.
Thursday, February 23, 2006
What the...
...hell has happened to my template? I am hoping adding a new post will fix it, otherwise it's gonna keep lookin' goofy cuz I got no idea why it's like that, if it's something I did, how to fix it, etc.
Somebody Stop Me
Wendy's lame-ass excuse to break up: "I just realized that you're ugly" 'What is your lame-ass excuse to break up?' at QuizGalaxy.com |
 Take this quiz at QuizGalaxy.com |
Lordy, let's hope not
Wendy's Rejected Horoscope: You will lie about your age to buy a child's ticket at the movies 'What is your rejected horoscope?' at QuizGalaxy.com |
It's a little late for that
Wendy's First Date Faux Pas: Talking too much about the future |
Hey! Why is "false" in quotes????
Wendy will have to write: |
I will not cry in the corner |
'What will you have to write on the chalk board?' at QuizGalaxy.com |
Why would I ever have to write anything on a chalkboard? Ok, this is getting sillier than it started.
Now you see me, now you don't
Wendy -- [noun]: A person who has the ability to be invisible 'How will you be defined in the dictionary?' at QuizGalaxy.com |
Well. That's interesting. Hmmmmm. Couldn't be "A person who will win the lottery soon." Ah, well. Thanks to Danelle for that link. It's kind of fun. I'm putting in lots of names of people I know and coming up with some fascinating things.
American Idol Prediction: Hasta la vista to David and Bobby. Honestly, Bobby, Copacabana? Dude. I hope Gram enjoyed it because surely no one else did.
Rodent Update: None yet trapped, but haven't heard anything for a week. Not sure if that's good though, since I previously heard one in the attic and one in the kitchen and they can't get out now so they haven't just up and left, but they aren't yet trapped either. Argh. I guess they too have the ability to be invisible. Oh, wait, no, my bad:
Rats -- [adjective]: Having the texture of congealed cheese 'How will you be defined in the dictionary?' at QuizGalaxy.com |
Let's hope not. At least not anywhere I'll ever come across it or um, smell it. Ack. (shudder) Xanax please.
Personal to Phillip: Phillip --[adjective]:Extremely flatulent. I didn't need to be told that LOL
All right, while we're at it, Troy, here ya go: Troy --[noun]:An alien
I'm not making this up, I swear.
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
You heard it here first...
...though you probably figured it out on your own, American Idol fans. I predict that Stevie and Heather are toast. Can't wait to see how the guys do tonight.
Woohoo, I finished my online defensive driving course today. Boy did that suck. But it's all done, all I have to do is await my certificate in the mail and send it off. And wow, weeks before my April deadline too. That's a switch. I'm usually taking a day off work to take a course on absolutely the last day I can take it to beat the deadline. You know, that procrastination thing. I took it this time for a ticket that I got on Thanksgiving (wasn't that sweet of them to give me a speeding ticket on Thanksgiving? ), but I'm looking forward to the insurance discount, too.
What else? As you may have guessed I was just a little swamped yesterday, completely frazzled in fact. That used to happen a lot more often than it does now so I really can't complain, but when it's busy it's bad busy.
To top it off, the kid had her ballet and tap class yesterday, and the routine is she goes to school dressed for ballet and takes regular clothes with her to change into right after. Now in the past I've been known to forget it was ballet day and thus she didn't get to wear her ballet clothes; yesterday, however, it ended up pretty much the opposite in that she wore her ballet clothes and I left her backpack with her regular clothes at home. I had to go to Target at lunch and buy her an outfit complete with shoes so she could change. What a day.
Truly Nolen comes back today. I really hope that little fucker I heard the evening after their last visit is in a trap by now. If he's not, then he's still in there...somewhere... Same for the one I heard in the attic. I'm really ready for this whole rodent thing to be all over with. You have no idea. Actually you probably do, I have blogged about it enough. A new guy is coming on Saturday to look at the dishwasher, hopefully this guy will actually show up and fix it.
I got a fantastic night's sleep Monday night after taking the Ambien. I took another last night... but sleep last night--not so good. I was still awake an hour after taking it and I woke up a couple times in the 2 hours before the alarm was set to go off. That's not a good sign (yawn).
And that's the extent of today's excitement. Yeehaw.
Woohoo, I finished my online defensive driving course today. Boy did that suck. But it's all done, all I have to do is await my certificate in the mail and send it off. And wow, weeks before my April deadline too. That's a switch. I'm usually taking a day off work to take a course on absolutely the last day I can take it to beat the deadline. You know, that procrastination thing. I took it this time for a ticket that I got on Thanksgiving (wasn't that sweet of them to give me a speeding ticket on Thanksgiving? ), but I'm looking forward to the insurance discount, too.
What else? As you may have guessed I was just a little swamped yesterday, completely frazzled in fact. That used to happen a lot more often than it does now so I really can't complain, but when it's busy it's bad busy.
To top it off, the kid had her ballet and tap class yesterday, and the routine is she goes to school dressed for ballet and takes regular clothes with her to change into right after. Now in the past I've been known to forget it was ballet day and thus she didn't get to wear her ballet clothes; yesterday, however, it ended up pretty much the opposite in that she wore her ballet clothes and I left her backpack with her regular clothes at home. I had to go to Target at lunch and buy her an outfit complete with shoes so she could change. What a day.
Truly Nolen comes back today. I really hope that little fucker I heard the evening after their last visit is in a trap by now. If he's not, then he's still in there...somewhere... Same for the one I heard in the attic. I'm really ready for this whole rodent thing to be all over with. You have no idea. Actually you probably do, I have blogged about it enough. A new guy is coming on Saturday to look at the dishwasher, hopefully this guy will actually show up and fix it.
I got a fantastic night's sleep Monday night after taking the Ambien. I took another last night... but sleep last night--not so good. I was still awake an hour after taking it and I woke up a couple times in the 2 hours before the alarm was set to go off. That's not a good sign (yawn).
And that's the extent of today's excitement. Yeehaw.
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Monday, February 20, 2006
A whole lotta nothin' goin' on
Ack, Monday again. Nothing exciting to report today. Just an average weekend, but c-c-c-cold. The high yesterday was like 30. Of course I'm seeing -20 below on the news in other places so I guess comparatively we're having a heat wave, but since one day last week it was 86 here, I reserve my right to bitch about 30. What else I don't like is all the precip freezing on the streets; I hate to drive on that crap. It's getting up to close to 50 today so that should all go away by the time I leave work.
The kid went to Oklahoma with mama this weekend. I was worried about that with the weather, as it was fine on Friday when they came to pick her up but I knew the weather was not going to be so fine by yesterday. Mama called at 6:20 last night to say they were just leaving, and they didn't get here until about 10:00. Lord knows what time they got home last night, but I don't know why in the world they waited so late to leave with the weather the way it was/is. Next weekend we'll go to Louisiana to visit Phillip, and supposedly mama will come get her the following weekend. We'll see. She has moved yet again, in with a new boyfriend, who drove her down both times this weekend. He seems like a nice enough guy I guess, but I met him for what, 5 minutes? He does tattoos. I guess at least he has a job and a house and a car...
I didn't get the dishwasher fixed on Saturday as planned. The guy was supposed to come at 9:00. He called at 8:00 to ask a question and said he'd see me at 9:00 or a little before. At 8:54 he called to confirm that he had been to my house before to install a new timer on my dishwasher. I told him yes, and that's why I was calling on him again. He then asked if I have cats. I said yes and then tried to explain that they don't come in the house because of the boxers, they live in the garage and outside, but he very rudely cut me off and told me he is extremely allergic to cats and dander and I'd have to get someone else to do it, and hung up.
Needless to say I was stunned. I called him right back to try again to relay the information about the cats staying outside, and at least to ask who else he could recommend, and he didn't answer, he let it go to voice mail.
I don't buy his sudden cat allergy excuse, and yet I can't think of a reason why he wouldn't want to come back to my house. He was already aware of the rat thing as I told him upfront that's what caused the damage. My check to him didn't bounce last time or anything, and he was very nice at that time, and this time on the phone right up until that last call. If he was truly allergic to cats, that should be his first question upon getting a service call, because lots of people have cats. Wait, I know. It must be because I am so hot that he could barely keep his hands off of me the last time he was there and he knew his willpower would not hold out this time. Hmmmm. Nah. Maybe 40 pounds and a great tan ago. Maybe the BBB can get to the bottom of it with the complaint I filed online this morning. Maybe it sounds stupid to file a complaint over that, but I'm pretty ticked off, because I made that appointment early last week and now I have to start the process of finding somebody else. ARGH. This is a pretty good website though.
What else? Not a thing. Wait. I had a follow-up doctor appointment this morning and I lost 3 pounds in the last 4 weeks without anything resembling effort. Woohoo! Just think when I start actually trying. My valentine bag of Dove chocolates in my desk drawer at work and the last of the Dr Peppers in my fridge at home will be gone soon, and then I can hit the Atkins full force. Maybe Thursday.
Last night's insomnia, which kept me awake until at least 2:00 a.m., made me yawn quite a bit at the doctor's office, which prompted Dr. Wonderful (as my friend Jen and I have dubbed her) to inquire how I am sleeping. Last night, coupled with my frequently waking up several times a night for no good reason, yielded me a sample of and a prescription for Ambien. I've had that stuff before and it rocks. Good night's sleep, here I come. That stuff works so well you've almost literally gotta already be in bed when you take it, or else you might not make it that far. I'd hate to take it in the kitchen and wake up in the hall just outside the bedroom or something.
At least the furnace, sans Target bag, wouldn't disturb me.
The kid went to Oklahoma with mama this weekend. I was worried about that with the weather, as it was fine on Friday when they came to pick her up but I knew the weather was not going to be so fine by yesterday. Mama called at 6:20 last night to say they were just leaving, and they didn't get here until about 10:00. Lord knows what time they got home last night, but I don't know why in the world they waited so late to leave with the weather the way it was/is. Next weekend we'll go to Louisiana to visit Phillip, and supposedly mama will come get her the following weekend. We'll see. She has moved yet again, in with a new boyfriend, who drove her down both times this weekend. He seems like a nice enough guy I guess, but I met him for what, 5 minutes? He does tattoos. I guess at least he has a job and a house and a car...
I didn't get the dishwasher fixed on Saturday as planned. The guy was supposed to come at 9:00. He called at 8:00 to ask a question and said he'd see me at 9:00 or a little before. At 8:54 he called to confirm that he had been to my house before to install a new timer on my dishwasher. I told him yes, and that's why I was calling on him again. He then asked if I have cats. I said yes and then tried to explain that they don't come in the house because of the boxers, they live in the garage and outside, but he very rudely cut me off and told me he is extremely allergic to cats and dander and I'd have to get someone else to do it, and hung up.
Needless to say I was stunned. I called him right back to try again to relay the information about the cats staying outside, and at least to ask who else he could recommend, and he didn't answer, he let it go to voice mail.
I don't buy his sudden cat allergy excuse, and yet I can't think of a reason why he wouldn't want to come back to my house. He was already aware of the rat thing as I told him upfront that's what caused the damage. My check to him didn't bounce last time or anything, and he was very nice at that time, and this time on the phone right up until that last call. If he was truly allergic to cats, that should be his first question upon getting a service call, because lots of people have cats. Wait, I know. It must be because I am so hot that he could barely keep his hands off of me the last time he was there and he knew his willpower would not hold out this time. Hmmmm. Nah. Maybe 40 pounds and a great tan ago. Maybe the BBB can get to the bottom of it with the complaint I filed online this morning. Maybe it sounds stupid to file a complaint over that, but I'm pretty ticked off, because I made that appointment early last week and now I have to start the process of finding somebody else. ARGH. This is a pretty good website though.
What else? Not a thing. Wait. I had a follow-up doctor appointment this morning and I lost 3 pounds in the last 4 weeks without anything resembling effort. Woohoo! Just think when I start actually trying. My valentine bag of Dove chocolates in my desk drawer at work and the last of the Dr Peppers in my fridge at home will be gone soon, and then I can hit the Atkins full force. Maybe Thursday.
Last night's insomnia, which kept me awake until at least 2:00 a.m., made me yawn quite a bit at the doctor's office, which prompted Dr. Wonderful (as my friend Jen and I have dubbed her) to inquire how I am sleeping. Last night, coupled with my frequently waking up several times a night for no good reason, yielded me a sample of and a prescription for Ambien. I've had that stuff before and it rocks. Good night's sleep, here I come. That stuff works so well you've almost literally gotta already be in bed when you take it, or else you might not make it that far. I'd hate to take it in the kitchen and wake up in the hall just outside the bedroom or something.
At least the furnace, sans Target bag, wouldn't disturb me.
Friday, February 17, 2006
Thursday, February 16, 2006
And the dog survey says...Cat Turds are Yummy!
There's just something wrong with calling a dog who escapes from the back yard to go eat cat turds from the front yard "Prissy".
This morning I am ready to leave and go to let the small dogs back inside, and discover Prissy is not in the back yard. So I head out the front door, "Prissy, here Prissy." Here she comes, still chewing. Yum.
Clearly we did not yet have a keen grasp of the dog's personality when we named her. Not that that particular trait, or disorder as I think of it, is restricted to Prissy. I know for a fact that 2 of my other dogs also consider cat poop a tasty treat. I don't know about the boxers; they never go in the front yard and the cats certainly don't dare venture into the back yard anymore.
Another dog I had who died almost 2 years ago (not from eating cat turds) liked them too. Once I had Phillip keep her while I went on vacation, and he let me know afterwards that he was happy to keep her for me any time because they didn't have to clean their cat box the entire time I was gone. Yippee.
I doubt if either cat turds by themselves or with cat litter stuck to them are considered nutritious for dogs. If you think regular dog breath is bad... and whatever you do, don't let them lick you.
Just think if someone invented cat turd flavored dog food, they could make a fortune. Dogs would go nuts. That is if they could get their owners to buy it for them.
But anyway. On to even less pleasant subjects, like Truly Nolen's re-visit yesterday. I won't say much on the subject because I fear I have already over-done rats on this blog, but I will say that he didn't find anything in any of the traps he set. I asked if that was good or bad, and he said it was really not necessarily either, but was good in the respect that it meant I am not "overrun" with them. I told him how I had not heard any in the kitchen in the past week, and that I just heard noises in the attic over my bedroom one night. He said he would be back next week to check again.
So, naturally, once I said out loud that I hadn't heard any in the kitchen in the past week... guess what? C'mon, 3 guesses and the first 2 don't count.
The dogs were all outside for the final time of the night, the kid was asleep, and I thought I heard something. I muted the TV and there were very definitely noises coming from behind the refrigerator. I was hoping it was so noisy because it was caught in a glue trap.
So... I decided to (try to) be a grown-up about the situation for a change. I took a deep breath and a xanax, grabbed a flashlight, and cautiously peered behind the fridge. Couldn't see a thing. Well, a couple of things that had fallen off the top of the fridge and were caught between the fridge and the wall (that can't be good, but then was not the time to retrieve them), but I couldn't see anything live or moving. Hmmmmm. Not that I minded all that much not seeing anything, though I suppose it might have been comforting to see it caught in a trap.
I let the dogs in and Buddy headed immediately to the side of the fridge and started sniffing around the back. Buddy, my protector. He knew something was there. If only he fit behind the fridge.
I actually cooked something last night, too. I guess it's back to eating out and avoiding the kitchen for awhile. At least the dishwasher's getting fixed on Saturday so once the rodents are gone I can sanitize absolutely everything in the kitchen in the dishwasher.
Can you run a toaster through the dishwasher?
This morning I am ready to leave and go to let the small dogs back inside, and discover Prissy is not in the back yard. So I head out the front door, "Prissy, here Prissy." Here she comes, still chewing. Yum.
Clearly we did not yet have a keen grasp of the dog's personality when we named her. Not that that particular trait, or disorder as I think of it, is restricted to Prissy. I know for a fact that 2 of my other dogs also consider cat poop a tasty treat. I don't know about the boxers; they never go in the front yard and the cats certainly don't dare venture into the back yard anymore.
Another dog I had who died almost 2 years ago (not from eating cat turds) liked them too. Once I had Phillip keep her while I went on vacation, and he let me know afterwards that he was happy to keep her for me any time because they didn't have to clean their cat box the entire time I was gone. Yippee.
I doubt if either cat turds by themselves or with cat litter stuck to them are considered nutritious for dogs. If you think regular dog breath is bad... and whatever you do, don't let them lick you.
Just think if someone invented cat turd flavored dog food, they could make a fortune. Dogs would go nuts. That is if they could get their owners to buy it for them.
But anyway. On to even less pleasant subjects, like Truly Nolen's re-visit yesterday. I won't say much on the subject because I fear I have already over-done rats on this blog, but I will say that he didn't find anything in any of the traps he set. I asked if that was good or bad, and he said it was really not necessarily either, but was good in the respect that it meant I am not "overrun" with them. I told him how I had not heard any in the kitchen in the past week, and that I just heard noises in the attic over my bedroom one night. He said he would be back next week to check again.
So, naturally, once I said out loud that I hadn't heard any in the kitchen in the past week... guess what? C'mon, 3 guesses and the first 2 don't count.
The dogs were all outside for the final time of the night, the kid was asleep, and I thought I heard something. I muted the TV and there were very definitely noises coming from behind the refrigerator. I was hoping it was so noisy because it was caught in a glue trap.
So... I decided to (try to) be a grown-up about the situation for a change. I took a deep breath and a xanax, grabbed a flashlight, and cautiously peered behind the fridge. Couldn't see a thing. Well, a couple of things that had fallen off the top of the fridge and were caught between the fridge and the wall (that can't be good, but then was not the time to retrieve them), but I couldn't see anything live or moving. Hmmmmm. Not that I minded all that much not seeing anything, though I suppose it might have been comforting to see it caught in a trap.
I let the dogs in and Buddy headed immediately to the side of the fridge and started sniffing around the back. Buddy, my protector. He knew something was there. If only he fit behind the fridge.
I actually cooked something last night, too. I guess it's back to eating out and avoiding the kitchen for awhile. At least the dishwasher's getting fixed on Saturday so once the rodents are gone I can sanitize absolutely everything in the kitchen in the dishwasher.
Can you run a toaster through the dishwasher?
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
Kids say the darnedest things
So this was the conversation yesterday on the way home after I picked the kid up from daycare:
Kid: You know what?
Me: No sweetie, what?
(that's the way most of our conversations begin, and I never do know what)
Kid: All of the 5 year olds at school are doing porn
Me: (turning radio completely off, fighting off heart attack) You're doing WHAT, sweetie?
Kid: Porn
Me: Porn?
Kid: Yeah
Me: Can you please tell me exactly what that is?
Kid: We all stand up and say "Teddy bear, teddy bear..."
Me: OH, you mean POEM?
Kid: NO, PORN.
Me: I am pretty sure you mean a poem, sweetie
Kid: NO I DON'T!
Me: Ok, well you can tell me the word again when we get home and I can see you say it.
Turns out she was saying "PORM", not "porn", and indeed, did mean "poem" though I could not convince her of that. She insisted it was porm.
I was not going to argue with her anymore; it was enough that it was not porn. She will learn the word "poem" in due time.
Just like she will eventually learn to make the "k" sound when she says "kitty". Right now, the K sounds like a T.
Oh, the fun we have with that.
Me: Would you like to watch a movie sweetie?
Kid: YES!
Me: Which movie would you like to watch?
Kid: The titty movie!
Me: (tee hee, smirk smirk) Which one?
Kid: The titty movie!
Me: Oh, the Aristocats?
Kid: Yes, the titty movie!
I really need to get that on video before she quits that.
(Dear Lord: Please do not let every sicko in the world pull up my blog because it now contains the words "porn" and "titty". Thanking you in advance, AMEN)
Kid: You know what?
Me: No sweetie, what?
(that's the way most of our conversations begin, and I never do know what)
Kid: All of the 5 year olds at school are doing porn
Me: (turning radio completely off, fighting off heart attack) You're doing WHAT, sweetie?
Kid: Porn
Me: Porn?
Kid: Yeah
Me: Can you please tell me exactly what that is?
Kid: We all stand up and say "Teddy bear, teddy bear..."
Me: OH, you mean POEM?
Kid: NO, PORN.
Me: I am pretty sure you mean a poem, sweetie
Kid: NO I DON'T!
Me: Ok, well you can tell me the word again when we get home and I can see you say it.
Turns out she was saying "PORM", not "porn", and indeed, did mean "poem" though I could not convince her of that. She insisted it was porm.
I was not going to argue with her anymore; it was enough that it was not porn. She will learn the word "poem" in due time.
Just like she will eventually learn to make the "k" sound when she says "kitty". Right now, the K sounds like a T.
Oh, the fun we have with that.
Me: Would you like to watch a movie sweetie?
Kid: YES!
Me: Which movie would you like to watch?
Kid: The titty movie!
Me: (tee hee, smirk smirk) Which one?
Kid: The titty movie!
Me: Oh, the Aristocats?
Kid: Yes, the titty movie!
I really need to get that on video before she quits that.
(Dear Lord: Please do not let every sicko in the world pull up my blog because it now contains the words "porn" and "titty". Thanking you in advance, AMEN)
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Happy VD
Hmmm, apparently I wasn't the only one who noticed the irony in the e-mail I referenced in Friday's entry, because today I received another e-mail with this subject:
Well imagine that. And I wasn't even one of the complainers. I wasn't complaining in my previous entry, only noting the irony.
It goes on to say that "We receive about an equal number of complaints from those who get upset when we don't provide the actionable material. So we are caught in a bind. Provide the actional material and get complaints, or don't provide the actionable material and get complaints."
That's a very wordy way of saying "damned if we do, damned if we don't." Well I can understand that completely. It's almost the story of my life.
Can I just crawl back in bed and hide under the covers until tomorrow when this valentine's crap will be over?
It's not my favorite holiday. It never has been. I probably minded it the least while I was married, but generally I've just always wished I could sleep through it. Why can't it be on February 29 so that I only have to deal with it every 4 years? That'd be plenty often enough, if you ask me.
It's a totally commercial holiday - I'm positive that's the whole reason it was invented. $129 for a dozen roses at one florist, I saw on the news this morning. Ridiculous. And all of the jewelers love it, I'm sure it's better than Christmas. Don't forget Hallmark. Oh, and Hersheys and all the other chocolatiers.
Chocolate. Mmmmm. Ok, the one part of the holiday I'll concede is all right. Chocolate abounds, chocolate choices the likes of which you don't get the rest of the year. Yum yum. Good thing I haven't started Atkins yet. Hmmm, was procrastination something they scored on that personality test? I don't recall. If it was, I am sure my score was high.
Which is why I found myself at Target at 8:15 last night desperately seeking a box of valentines for the kid to give to the kids in her class.
Now, to my credit, I bought the rest of the cards and gifts on my list a week and a half ago when I skipped out to Target during my lunch hour so I could do some kid-less shopping (oh the luxury). Of course, I didn't mail any of them until yesterday, and I know some of them are not going to arrive today, but hey, I bought them and actually put them in the mail. I have plenty of cards for other holidays sitting around my house that I bought for people that never reached their destination at all.
The reason I didn't buy a box of kid cards on that trip is because I thought she might like to pick them out herself. A week and a half ago, Target had dozens of choices.
They did not have a single choice last night.
We didn't happen to go shopping between the time I went before and last night, so there we were. We did get a pity box of crappy bug cards when I asked a fellow shopper where she found the boxes of cards in her shopping cart. She said she'd found some laying in another department and I could have the bugs if I wanted. Needless to say the kid wasn't excited about bugs and I didn't blame her one bit.
We bought the bugs anyway just as a precautionary measure (they were only $3) and headed for the nearby dollar store. Nope. It was full of people desperate as I, seeking the perfect valentiney something-or-other though. Well the price was right, anyway.
Kroger yielded 1 pack of Hello Kitty puzzle valentines, 16 to a pack. Of course I had left the list of kids in the car so I didn't know how many were on the list. The kid assured me that there were not more than 16 kids in her class and that boys would love Hello Kitty puzzles. I chose to take her word for it because there weren't any other packages, anyway.
The list in fact had 20 other kids on it. Naturally.
So I suggested we give the girls Hello Kitty and the boys bugs and fortunately that idea was a hit. By this time it was 9:15 and we were finally on our way home to start filling out 20 cards. Oh, and did I mention the puzzles had to be taken apart one by one and stuffed into the little envelopes? And there was no cheating and not taking them apart; the puzzle was over twice as big as the envelopes.
I had her sign her name on all of the cards while I wrote the other kids' names and started taking all of the puzzles apart, then she skedaddled to bed while I finished up.
It occurs to me now that her teacher might not be that pleased at 9 little 5 year old girls getting puzzle valentines and having to put them together. They have about 20 little pieces each. Hey, the package said ages 5 and up though. Or was it 8? Hmmmmm. No, I'm pretty sure it was 5. Maybe.
Explanation: Here's why we inlcluded the videoIt goes on to say that they "...wanted you to know that we have received a significant number of complaints from (our) supporters about the graphic nature of the video clip from the NBC show Las Vegas, contained in a recent e-mail alert..."
Well imagine that. And I wasn't even one of the complainers. I wasn't complaining in my previous entry, only noting the irony.
It goes on to say that "We receive about an equal number of complaints from those who get upset when we don't provide the actionable material. So we are caught in a bind. Provide the actional material and get complaints, or don't provide the actionable material and get complaints."
That's a very wordy way of saying "damned if we do, damned if we don't." Well I can understand that completely. It's almost the story of my life.
Can I just crawl back in bed and hide under the covers until tomorrow when this valentine's crap will be over?
It's not my favorite holiday. It never has been. I probably minded it the least while I was married, but generally I've just always wished I could sleep through it. Why can't it be on February 29 so that I only have to deal with it every 4 years? That'd be plenty often enough, if you ask me.
It's a totally commercial holiday - I'm positive that's the whole reason it was invented. $129 for a dozen roses at one florist, I saw on the news this morning. Ridiculous. And all of the jewelers love it, I'm sure it's better than Christmas. Don't forget Hallmark. Oh, and Hersheys and all the other chocolatiers.
Chocolate. Mmmmm. Ok, the one part of the holiday I'll concede is all right. Chocolate abounds, chocolate choices the likes of which you don't get the rest of the year. Yum yum. Good thing I haven't started Atkins yet. Hmmm, was procrastination something they scored on that personality test? I don't recall. If it was, I am sure my score was high.
Which is why I found myself at Target at 8:15 last night desperately seeking a box of valentines for the kid to give to the kids in her class.
Now, to my credit, I bought the rest of the cards and gifts on my list a week and a half ago when I skipped out to Target during my lunch hour so I could do some kid-less shopping (oh the luxury). Of course, I didn't mail any of them until yesterday, and I know some of them are not going to arrive today, but hey, I bought them and actually put them in the mail. I have plenty of cards for other holidays sitting around my house that I bought for people that never reached their destination at all.
The reason I didn't buy a box of kid cards on that trip is because I thought she might like to pick them out herself. A week and a half ago, Target had dozens of choices.
They did not have a single choice last night.
We didn't happen to go shopping between the time I went before and last night, so there we were. We did get a pity box of crappy bug cards when I asked a fellow shopper where she found the boxes of cards in her shopping cart. She said she'd found some laying in another department and I could have the bugs if I wanted. Needless to say the kid wasn't excited about bugs and I didn't blame her one bit.
We bought the bugs anyway just as a precautionary measure (they were only $3) and headed for the nearby dollar store. Nope. It was full of people desperate as I, seeking the perfect valentiney something-or-other though. Well the price was right, anyway.
Kroger yielded 1 pack of Hello Kitty puzzle valentines, 16 to a pack. Of course I had left the list of kids in the car so I didn't know how many were on the list. The kid assured me that there were not more than 16 kids in her class and that boys would love Hello Kitty puzzles. I chose to take her word for it because there weren't any other packages, anyway.
The list in fact had 20 other kids on it. Naturally.
So I suggested we give the girls Hello Kitty and the boys bugs and fortunately that idea was a hit. By this time it was 9:15 and we were finally on our way home to start filling out 20 cards. Oh, and did I mention the puzzles had to be taken apart one by one and stuffed into the little envelopes? And there was no cheating and not taking them apart; the puzzle was over twice as big as the envelopes.
I had her sign her name on all of the cards while I wrote the other kids' names and started taking all of the puzzles apart, then she skedaddled to bed while I finished up.
It occurs to me now that her teacher might not be that pleased at 9 little 5 year old girls getting puzzle valentines and having to put them together. They have about 20 little pieces each. Hey, the package said ages 5 and up though. Or was it 8? Hmmmmm. No, I'm pretty sure it was 5. Maybe.
Monday, February 13, 2006
Monday the 13th, absolutely nothing, and a rant about the legal system
I have always wondered why Monday the 13th wasn't considered the unlucky 13 day. Fridays are usually great, and Mondays are blah anyway, so shouldn't Monday the 13th be unluckyer if you are superstitious that way?
Absolutely nothing exciting happened over the weekend. I worked all day Saturday as usual, and we ended up not going to Louisiana this weekend to visit my brother, for various reasons. It was too cold to put my boxers outside in the middle of the night (down to 26) which is when we leave; my mom didn't really want to leave my dad for that long yet (he still has a cold); and frankly, I don't think I've caught up on my sleep from being up all night last Saturday night in the ER. The kid's mom said she wanted to take her to Oklahoma this weekend, but since as I said she only follows through 1 in every 5 times or so, plus she was just here last weekend, I'd say there is a pretty good chance we will be able to go to Louisiana this weekend. If not, the weekend after.
Ok, on to the rant.
I have debated for some time just how much information about family and certain personal situations I should put on my blog. I have finally come to the conclusion that those who read it who know me personally already know all of this anyway, and everyone else who reads it doesn't know me, so why not?
Saturday I got one of those automated survey telephone calls. This one had only 1 question. I was all too happy to offer my opinion on mandatory minimum sentencing, which they said at the beginning of the call was the subject, and it specifically said the information gained would be given to my congressmen. As if I believe that does much good. But anyway.
The message went on to talk about pedophiles (they used that word) and made reference to the guy who recently got sentenced to just 60 days after being convicted of sexual assault of a child or some such charge, and whether I would like to help insure that such short sentences can't happen in the future by implementing mandatory minimum sentencing.
The problem I had with their question at the end, aside from the problem I have with mandatory minimum sentencing in general, was that it was phrased like this:
"Would you like to see mandatory minimum sentences implemented for those convicted of assaulting a child?"
No. I would not.
No, and not because I am totally against mandatory minimum sentencing in general, but because of the way they worded their question. If I was to agree with mandatory minimum sentencing for any crime, it would be for the punishment of pedophiles, and I might well have said "yes" if they had worded their question differently.
If they had said "for those convicted of sexually assaulting a child" my answer may have been yes. But they didn't say that. They left out the word "sexually". Which means at some point down the road, some parent is going to be sentenced under strict mandatory minimum guidelines because they were charged with assault of a child for spanking their child. Or because their child got bruises playing whatever game and the authorities involved themselves when it wasn't necessary. Or some other equally unjust reason, with the facts completely twisted.
Over the years I've come to know and believe a few things about the criminal legal system. I worked in it for 10 years, but my real knowledge has come from other experience (fortunately nothing to do with anyone I know harming children), and I think I can reasonably apply my general knowledge to various legal situations and measure how I think things would turn out.
I'm not going to go into a sidebar about whether spanking your child is right or wrong. That is for each of us to decide for ourself. But no matter what I believe about whether I would do it personally or not, I don't believe that a simple spanking, within reason, that is not carried out to the point of physical abuse, should be considered assault.
If that law was passed based on the way they worded it in their question, then somewhere, sometime, a spanking would become an assault. Or a kid accidentally getting a bruise from a baseball or softball while their dad was practicing with them. Or any number of other innocent scenarios. Some parent, probably lots of parents, would end up being sentenced to a freakishly long amount of time in prison because of mandatory minimum sentencing, for unjust reasons.
I know it would happen, because it's the same legal system who labeled lighting hairspray on fire (which, come on, all boys do at some point, or watch someone else do) as "arson" when nothing actually caught on fire, and labeled not showing up in court for a ticket as "escape." Trust me when I say there are numerous other examples I could give you.
The legal system seems to love to over-label everything whenever possible. Maybe they are bored and arresting a kid for "arson" is more exciting than telling a kid to knock it off and get his butt home; and "escape" is far more stimulating than "didn't show up to court for a speeding ticket".
Whatever the reason, if they want me to agree to mandatory minimum sentencing guidelines for pedophiles, then they'd better phrase their question appropriately. Otherwise I'm not going to run the risk of agreeing with something that they could twist in so many different ways.
"Oh, wow, listen to her, she's really jaded and bitter about the legal system."
You bet your ass I am. It's the system that sentenced my brother to just under 10 years in federal prison because of their mandatory minimum sentencing guidelines. You remember Michael Fortier, the guy who conspired with Timothy McVeigh and Terry Nichols in the Oklahoma City bombings, only they didn't find Fortier as culpable. He only got sentenced to 12 years, just 2 years more than Phillip, and is out of jail already, safe and sound in the witness protection program.
I would never try to minimize what Phillip did. But in a little bit of his defense, he was on drugs at the time and wasn't even consciously aware of what he was doing (which I know is no excuse), but he certainly didn't plan or conspire to do what he did. Nor did what he did result in 168 deaths. And yet, he only got 2 years less than the guy who conspired with his friends to kill all of those people. And all because of "mandatory minimum sentencing".
Feel free to tell me if you think that's right, and why. I'd love to hear it.
Some people agree with me. There is a bill pending which if passed would reinstate the federal parole system, which was phased out in the 1990's. Currently, with no parole, inmates serve about 85% of their sentenced time and are on supervised release for a certain period after they get out. The bill proposes to reinstate the parole system, meaning inmates could be released sooner, and was proposed in part due to the unfairness of the mandatory minimum sentencing guidelines. Click here or here if you care to read more about it, and here to help support the bill.
It so happens that the system that handed down both Phillip's and Fortier's sentences is the same sytem I used to work for. In fact, Phillip will likely report to the office I worked at when he's released.
Although I left that job several years ago, well before Phillip's troubles began, I used to be proud that I had worked there, even a little regretful about leaving. I am neither of those now. Now, I am ashamed to have been a part of such a flawed system.
So bring on your telephone surveys about my opinion of the legal system. I'll give it to you. I only wish I could have done more than "press 2 for no".
Absolutely nothing exciting happened over the weekend. I worked all day Saturday as usual, and we ended up not going to Louisiana this weekend to visit my brother, for various reasons. It was too cold to put my boxers outside in the middle of the night (down to 26) which is when we leave; my mom didn't really want to leave my dad for that long yet (he still has a cold); and frankly, I don't think I've caught up on my sleep from being up all night last Saturday night in the ER. The kid's mom said she wanted to take her to Oklahoma this weekend, but since as I said she only follows through 1 in every 5 times or so, plus she was just here last weekend, I'd say there is a pretty good chance we will be able to go to Louisiana this weekend. If not, the weekend after.
Ok, on to the rant.
I have debated for some time just how much information about family and certain personal situations I should put on my blog. I have finally come to the conclusion that those who read it who know me personally already know all of this anyway, and everyone else who reads it doesn't know me, so why not?
Saturday I got one of those automated survey telephone calls. This one had only 1 question. I was all too happy to offer my opinion on mandatory minimum sentencing, which they said at the beginning of the call was the subject, and it specifically said the information gained would be given to my congressmen. As if I believe that does much good. But anyway.
The message went on to talk about pedophiles (they used that word) and made reference to the guy who recently got sentenced to just 60 days after being convicted of sexual assault of a child or some such charge, and whether I would like to help insure that such short sentences can't happen in the future by implementing mandatory minimum sentencing.
The problem I had with their question at the end, aside from the problem I have with mandatory minimum sentencing in general, was that it was phrased like this:
"Would you like to see mandatory minimum sentences implemented for those convicted of assaulting a child?"
No. I would not.
No, and not because I am totally against mandatory minimum sentencing in general, but because of the way they worded their question. If I was to agree with mandatory minimum sentencing for any crime, it would be for the punishment of pedophiles, and I might well have said "yes" if they had worded their question differently.
If they had said "for those convicted of sexually assaulting a child" my answer may have been yes. But they didn't say that. They left out the word "sexually". Which means at some point down the road, some parent is going to be sentenced under strict mandatory minimum guidelines because they were charged with assault of a child for spanking their child. Or because their child got bruises playing whatever game and the authorities involved themselves when it wasn't necessary. Or some other equally unjust reason, with the facts completely twisted.
Over the years I've come to know and believe a few things about the criminal legal system. I worked in it for 10 years, but my real knowledge has come from other experience (fortunately nothing to do with anyone I know harming children), and I think I can reasonably apply my general knowledge to various legal situations and measure how I think things would turn out.
I'm not going to go into a sidebar about whether spanking your child is right or wrong. That is for each of us to decide for ourself. But no matter what I believe about whether I would do it personally or not, I don't believe that a simple spanking, within reason, that is not carried out to the point of physical abuse, should be considered assault.
If that law was passed based on the way they worded it in their question, then somewhere, sometime, a spanking would become an assault. Or a kid accidentally getting a bruise from a baseball or softball while their dad was practicing with them. Or any number of other innocent scenarios. Some parent, probably lots of parents, would end up being sentenced to a freakishly long amount of time in prison because of mandatory minimum sentencing, for unjust reasons.
I know it would happen, because it's the same legal system who labeled lighting hairspray on fire (which, come on, all boys do at some point, or watch someone else do) as "arson" when nothing actually caught on fire, and labeled not showing up in court for a ticket as "escape." Trust me when I say there are numerous other examples I could give you.
The legal system seems to love to over-label everything whenever possible. Maybe they are bored and arresting a kid for "arson" is more exciting than telling a kid to knock it off and get his butt home; and "escape" is far more stimulating than "didn't show up to court for a speeding ticket".
Whatever the reason, if they want me to agree to mandatory minimum sentencing guidelines for pedophiles, then they'd better phrase their question appropriately. Otherwise I'm not going to run the risk of agreeing with something that they could twist in so many different ways.
"Oh, wow, listen to her, she's really jaded and bitter about the legal system."
You bet your ass I am. It's the system that sentenced my brother to just under 10 years in federal prison because of their mandatory minimum sentencing guidelines. You remember Michael Fortier, the guy who conspired with Timothy McVeigh and Terry Nichols in the Oklahoma City bombings, only they didn't find Fortier as culpable. He only got sentenced to 12 years, just 2 years more than Phillip, and is out of jail already, safe and sound in the witness protection program.
I would never try to minimize what Phillip did. But in a little bit of his defense, he was on drugs at the time and wasn't even consciously aware of what he was doing (which I know is no excuse), but he certainly didn't plan or conspire to do what he did. Nor did what he did result in 168 deaths. And yet, he only got 2 years less than the guy who conspired with his friends to kill all of those people. And all because of "mandatory minimum sentencing".
Feel free to tell me if you think that's right, and why. I'd love to hear it.
Some people agree with me. There is a bill pending which if passed would reinstate the federal parole system, which was phased out in the 1990's. Currently, with no parole, inmates serve about 85% of their sentenced time and are on supervised release for a certain period after they get out. The bill proposes to reinstate the parole system, meaning inmates could be released sooner, and was proposed in part due to the unfairness of the mandatory minimum sentencing guidelines. Click here or here if you care to read more about it, and here to help support the bill.
It so happens that the system that handed down both Phillip's and Fortier's sentences is the same sytem I used to work for. In fact, Phillip will likely report to the office I worked at when he's released.
Although I left that job several years ago, well before Phillip's troubles began, I used to be proud that I had worked there, even a little regretful about leaving. I am neither of those now. Now, I am ashamed to have been a part of such a flawed system.
So bring on your telephone surveys about my opinion of the legal system. I'll give it to you. I only wish I could have done more than "press 2 for no".
Friday, February 10, 2006
No, thanks, I'll take your word for it
I got an e-mail today from a particular organization that I get e-mails from periodically. I signed up to get their periodic e-mails because most of the time I agree with what they have to say. Today I found their e-mail very strange:
"The February 6 episode of NBC's Las Vegas contained a scene inside a strip club. The content of that scene was extremely graphic. We have provided a video of the scene below.... Rather than trying to describe it to you, I would rather you watch it yourself. "
Then they want me to follow a link to file a complaint with the FCC about this particular television content being shown during prime time.
In other words... "We find this content highly offensive. Here, watch it."
That's like "Ewww, I think this milk is sour. Here, taste it, will you?"
Not a lot else to say today. I'm still waiting for those comforting e-mails and/or blog comments telling me my personality profile results are totally wrong. Hmmmmmm.....
Have yourselves a great weekend.
"The February 6 episode of NBC's Las Vegas contained a scene inside a strip club. The content of that scene was extremely graphic. We have provided a video of the scene below.... Rather than trying to describe it to you, I would rather you watch it yourself. "
Then they want me to follow a link to file a complaint with the FCC about this particular television content being shown during prime time.
In other words... "We find this content highly offensive. Here, watch it."
That's like "Ewww, I think this milk is sour. Here, taste it, will you?"
Not a lot else to say today. I'm still waiting for those comforting e-mails and/or blog comments telling me my personality profile results are totally wrong. Hmmmmmm.....
Have yourselves a great weekend.
Thursday, February 09, 2006
What does a personality test know, anyway?
I wasn't gonna blog today because I feel all blogged out from that War and Peace entry yesterday but I suppose I could post a thought or two.
Truly Nolen has now rat-proofed my house and set out traps. The good news is that he said he didn't really see where there had been a lot of rat activity in the attic. The bad news is he was concerned to hear that I have heard more activity from my kitchen than I ever have from the attic.
He could not possibly be as concerned as me.
He'll be back in a week to follow up. I really hope they pay him a lot of money. You couldn't pay me enough to do that.
I had to go back by the doctor's office today. Some of my lab work came back odd and they wanted to take some more blood. Of course, when they called the other day they said they wanted blood and pee, so I'm like hopping up and down by the time I go by there because I wanted to be sure I'd be able to "go" then so I didn't all morning, then she tells me they don't need that, just blood. Gee, thanks. It was all right by me though. For some strange reason, they don't have a sink in the restroom where they collect their "samples". Women don't have it so easy as guys in the giving samples regard and I for one always end up setting the cup down after filling it and reaching immediately for the sink because ewwwww. Last time I didn't realize there was no sink until I was reaching for said sink and--well, it wasn't fun. There is a sink right outside the door, but I don't even want to imagine the germs on that door handle.
And now that I've told you way more than you ever wanted to know, I'll leave you with this:
Take Free Advanced Global Personality Test
personality tests by similarminds.com
And the narrative part said:
Stability results were low which suggests you are very worrying, insecure, emotional, and anxious.
Orderliness results were very low which suggests you are overly flexible, improvised, and fun seeking at the expense too often of reliability, work ethic, and long term accomplishment.
Extraversion results were moderately low which suggests you are reclusive, quiet, unassertive, and secretive.
Trait snapshot:
messy, depressed, introverted, feels invisible, does not make friends easily, nihilistic, reveals little about self, fragile, dark, bizarre, feels undesirable, dislikes leadership, reclusive, weird, irritable, frequently second guesses self, unassertive, unsympathetic, low self control, observer, worrying, phobic, suspicious, unproductive, avoidant, negative, bad at saving money, emotionally sensitive, does not like to stand out, dislikes large parties, submissive, daydreamer
Now I disagree with most of that. Bizarre? Reclusive? Weird? And doesn't that seem like an awfully high paranoia score? But then again, I am taking the crazy pills... and the rats are out to get me.
Oh, but hey, guys, the sexuality score is pretty high, too (wink wink). Don't let the materialism score scare you off.
Maybe I should take it again in a few weeks when the meds have kicked in.
In the meantime, please, friends who know me, tell me how much you disagree with my results. Pretty please?
Be sure to take the test yourself and send me your results.
Thanks to Christine for that link. At least, I think thanks.
Truly Nolen has now rat-proofed my house and set out traps. The good news is that he said he didn't really see where there had been a lot of rat activity in the attic. The bad news is he was concerned to hear that I have heard more activity from my kitchen than I ever have from the attic.
He could not possibly be as concerned as me.
He'll be back in a week to follow up. I really hope they pay him a lot of money. You couldn't pay me enough to do that.
I had to go back by the doctor's office today. Some of my lab work came back odd and they wanted to take some more blood. Of course, when they called the other day they said they wanted blood and pee, so I'm like hopping up and down by the time I go by there because I wanted to be sure I'd be able to "go" then so I didn't all morning, then she tells me they don't need that, just blood. Gee, thanks. It was all right by me though. For some strange reason, they don't have a sink in the restroom where they collect their "samples". Women don't have it so easy as guys in the giving samples regard and I for one always end up setting the cup down after filling it and reaching immediately for the sink because ewwwww. Last time I didn't realize there was no sink until I was reaching for said sink and--well, it wasn't fun. There is a sink right outside the door, but I don't even want to imagine the germs on that door handle.
And now that I've told you way more than you ever wanted to know, I'll leave you with this:
Advanced Global Personality Test Results
|
personality tests by similarminds.com
And the narrative part said:
Stability results were low which suggests you are very worrying, insecure, emotional, and anxious.
Orderliness results were very low which suggests you are overly flexible, improvised, and fun seeking at the expense too often of reliability, work ethic, and long term accomplishment.
Extraversion results were moderately low which suggests you are reclusive, quiet, unassertive, and secretive.
Trait snapshot:
messy, depressed, introverted, feels invisible, does not make friends easily, nihilistic, reveals little about self, fragile, dark, bizarre, feels undesirable, dislikes leadership, reclusive, weird, irritable, frequently second guesses self, unassertive, unsympathetic, low self control, observer, worrying, phobic, suspicious, unproductive, avoidant, negative, bad at saving money, emotionally sensitive, does not like to stand out, dislikes large parties, submissive, daydreamer
Now I disagree with most of that. Bizarre? Reclusive? Weird? And doesn't that seem like an awfully high paranoia score? But then again, I am taking the crazy pills... and the rats are out to get me.
Oh, but hey, guys, the sexuality score is pretty high, too (wink wink). Don't let the materialism score scare you off.
Maybe I should take it again in a few weeks when the meds have kicked in.
In the meantime, please, friends who know me, tell me how much you disagree with my results. Pretty please?
Be sure to take the test yourself and send me your results.
Thanks to Christine for that link. At least, I think thanks.
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
I learned more than I ever wanted to know
James Dean would have been 75 today. I wonder if he would have aged well or badly?
My most faithful blog reader has e-mailed me that she is eagerly anticipating reading about the day I had on Friday, so I guess I'll get right to it. This is gonna be a long one. Get a snack and a soda. Go on. I'll wait.
Ok. I had the whole day off and Dishwasher Repair Guy was slated to arrive between 12:00 and 5:00. I actually managed to get up early on a day off, with the anticipation of taking the kid to school (daycare, but she gets so offended if you don't call it school), but then it dawned on me that if DRG didn't come until about 5:00, I wouldn't be able to pick her up on time, so I pawned her off on my folks for the day. She really is such a good little helper, but the fact of the matter is that I can't really seriously get anything done when she is there.
I had actually gotten quite a bit of laundry and cleaning done by the time DRG called about 2:30 to say he'd be there in 30 minutes or so. He actually did show up in 30 minutes, too. I was impressed.
I led him to the dishwasher and explained what it was and wasn't doing. He turned it on, listened, and set about unscrewing the panel at the bottom. I went in the living room to get out of his way.
Now. I was truly just being facetious at the time. I didn't actually believe this could/would be the case, but you may remember this little bit from the entry in which I initially talked about the broken dishwasher:
I am just praying that the problem with the dishwasher isn't something rat-related. You know how they like to chew things and just basically fuck things up, and I know they were below my sink because they ate some poison from there. shudder shudder
I think you know now where this story is headed.
Once DRG got the cover off the dishwasher, he made his diagnosis in about 2 seconds. "Ma'am," he said, backing away from the dishwasher. "A rat has eaten through your motor pump assembly. And it's still there."
He looked at me expectantly.
I stood there with my hand over my open mouth, in horror. "Well, is it dead?" I asked from behind my hand.
"Oh, yes, ma'am, it's dead. But I'm not going to remove it and I really can't do anything with it there." He continued to look at me expectantly.
Apparently big burly DRG expected lil ol' ME to dispose of the rat so he could continue. I told him in no uncertain terms that I would not be removing the rat. I totally don't blame him for not wanting to dispose of it himself, though.
I could not get in touch with my uncle, and I am certain that he had no fewer than 37 missed calls from me on his phone when he got around to checking it.
I called Mom to see if she had seen him. She said no, and I tersely told her I needed him, NOW. She said ok, she would try to call too. She called back in a bit and said she couldn't reach him either and that Dad wanted to know if something was really wrong like I needed the cops, or if it was "just" a rat or something.
Well if I needed the cops, wouldn't I just call the cops? But thank you for your concern.
I told her it had to do with a rat, though I don't consider it "just" a rat, and that I had to go.
DRG waited patiently through all of this, making some calls to his home base and to my home warranty company, who advised that this problem would not be covered by my home warranty. Surprise, surprise.
Eventually DRG said there was nothing more he could do today anyway as he did not have the parts to fix it, etc. etc. and not to worry about trying to have the rat removed immediately for his benefit.
Do you know that DRG actually intended on leaving without even propping the panel cover back up on the dishwasher? Oh no no no no NO. I have dogs, remember? Dogs who may come back in the house and drag the rat out from under there. I told him he was at least putting 1 screw back on the thing to hold it in place.
DRG did tell me that I should not be humiliated and mortified because this is actually a VERY common problem. Apparently, when rats eat poison they get dehydrated and very thirsty, and will do anything to get at water. He said sometimes they chew through refrigerator lines too.
My eyes widened at that. "So, how would I know if they may have done that too?"
He told me I would know because there would be water all over my floor. Well, that at least is comforting, I think, because that hasn't been a problem.
Oh, but there's more. So very, very much more. Are you ready, or should I make you wait because I am kind of tired of typing? Ah, what the hell. Intermission. Take a potty break (the last one you may ever take in peace), refresh your soda and come on back.
Ok. So, I was on the phone within 5 minutes of DRG's departure, and about 45 minutes later, this was parked across the street from my house:
I got to hear 2 stories of rat entrances via commodes. The first involved a lady raising the lid, the rat jumping up on the rim of the seat, shaking itself like a dog, then streaking off into her house. The second involved a lady actually feeling a nibble on her butt as she was sitting.
I would die like Elvis - of a heart attack in my bathroom with my pants around my ankles. Yep, that's how'd they'd find me. Probably with that rat nibbling at my remains.
No more books and magazines in the bathroom for me. No more time sitting there than is absolutely necessary to get the job done.
In case you were wondering, the lady whose butt got nibbled flushed her rat away. Lucky for her it didn't clog her toilet, considering it came through the in pipe voluntarily and no doubt went out the out pipe involuntarily.
But anyway. I was pretty much sold on whatever it was gonna take to get rid of these things before these guys even set foot in my house, but I am sure that all of that information would have completed any convincing I might have still needed at that point.
So. Truly Nolen is coming back this afternoon to repair 2 holes the rats managed to chew their way into the attic through, cap the plumbing pipes with caps with a a strong screen in them, and a few other things to prevent any more outside rats from coming in. Then, they will set traps in the attic and elsewhere (glue traps in the house. I don't want to imagine a glue trap big enough to hold a rat. God help me). They will return to my house every 10 days (or within 24 hours if I call them cuz I hear a rat screaming from a glue trap) and check said traps, dispose of bodies, and reset traps, for as long as it takes them to stop finding trapped bodies when they visit. Then they will come back and check things out every 90 days, for a year.
You don't even want to know what all of that is going to cost. The good news is that it also includes prevention and treatment for other critters, such as spiders and insects and them flying roaches I was talking about before, for a whole year.
And anyway, can you really put a price on peace of mind?
My most faithful blog reader has e-mailed me that she is eagerly anticipating reading about the day I had on Friday, so I guess I'll get right to it. This is gonna be a long one. Get a snack and a soda. Go on. I'll wait.
Ok. I had the whole day off and Dishwasher Repair Guy was slated to arrive between 12:00 and 5:00. I actually managed to get up early on a day off, with the anticipation of taking the kid to school (daycare, but she gets so offended if you don't call it school), but then it dawned on me that if DRG didn't come until about 5:00, I wouldn't be able to pick her up on time, so I pawned her off on my folks for the day. She really is such a good little helper, but the fact of the matter is that I can't really seriously get anything done when she is there.
I had actually gotten quite a bit of laundry and cleaning done by the time DRG called about 2:30 to say he'd be there in 30 minutes or so. He actually did show up in 30 minutes, too. I was impressed.
I led him to the dishwasher and explained what it was and wasn't doing. He turned it on, listened, and set about unscrewing the panel at the bottom. I went in the living room to get out of his way.
Now. I was truly just being facetious at the time. I didn't actually believe this could/would be the case, but you may remember this little bit from the entry in which I initially talked about the broken dishwasher:
I am just praying that the problem with the dishwasher isn't something rat-related. You know how they like to chew things and just basically fuck things up, and I know they were below my sink because they ate some poison from there. shudder shudder
I think you know now where this story is headed.
Once DRG got the cover off the dishwasher, he made his diagnosis in about 2 seconds. "Ma'am," he said, backing away from the dishwasher. "A rat has eaten through your motor pump assembly. And it's still there."
He looked at me expectantly.
I stood there with my hand over my open mouth, in horror. "Well, is it dead?" I asked from behind my hand.
"Oh, yes, ma'am, it's dead. But I'm not going to remove it and I really can't do anything with it there." He continued to look at me expectantly.
Apparently big burly DRG expected lil ol' ME to dispose of the rat so he could continue. I told him in no uncertain terms that I would not be removing the rat. I totally don't blame him for not wanting to dispose of it himself, though.
I could not get in touch with my uncle, and I am certain that he had no fewer than 37 missed calls from me on his phone when he got around to checking it.
I called Mom to see if she had seen him. She said no, and I tersely told her I needed him, NOW. She said ok, she would try to call too. She called back in a bit and said she couldn't reach him either and that Dad wanted to know if something was really wrong like I needed the cops, or if it was "just" a rat or something.
Well if I needed the cops, wouldn't I just call the cops? But thank you for your concern.
I told her it had to do with a rat, though I don't consider it "just" a rat, and that I had to go.
DRG waited patiently through all of this, making some calls to his home base and to my home warranty company, who advised that this problem would not be covered by my home warranty. Surprise, surprise.
Eventually DRG said there was nothing more he could do today anyway as he did not have the parts to fix it, etc. etc. and not to worry about trying to have the rat removed immediately for his benefit.
Do you know that DRG actually intended on leaving without even propping the panel cover back up on the dishwasher? Oh no no no no NO. I have dogs, remember? Dogs who may come back in the house and drag the rat out from under there. I told him he was at least putting 1 screw back on the thing to hold it in place.
DRG did tell me that I should not be humiliated and mortified because this is actually a VERY common problem. Apparently, when rats eat poison they get dehydrated and very thirsty, and will do anything to get at water. He said sometimes they chew through refrigerator lines too.
My eyes widened at that. "So, how would I know if they may have done that too?"
He told me I would know because there would be water all over my floor. Well, that at least is comforting, I think, because that hasn't been a problem.
Oh, but there's more. So very, very much more. Are you ready, or should I make you wait because I am kind of tired of typing? Ah, what the hell. Intermission. Take a potty break (the last one you may ever take in peace), refresh your soda and come on back.
Ok. So, I was on the phone within 5 minutes of DRG's departure, and about 45 minutes later, this was parked across the street from my house:
You may recognize that as the Truly Nolen car. Rat Ridders Extraordinare, there to do a free initial inspection. If only the real things were as cute as their little car, I would have no problem. They'd become pets, I'd name them and give them chew toys so they wouldn't chew other stuff, and bowls of water so they'd stop chewing my appliances, and we'd all cohabitate in peace and harmony. But alas, they are nasty and oooky and it is not to be. The car is cute, though. And believe it or not, they said I was not the first person ever to ask to take a picture of it.
Anyway. Back to the Truly Nolen Guys. There were 2 of them, very nice and quite sympathetic to my problem. Of course, it's their job to be sympathetic, I suppose, they ARE there to try to make a sale, but they were oh so kind as to remove the rat from the dishwasher for me. I was secretly hoping they would, but since the inspection was "free" I hesitated to ask. But, they offered and I certainly wasn't going to refuse. I got them a Wal-Mart bag and they whisked it away. He did say that it had been there for several days and I probably would have started to smell it in a day or two. Wheeee.
They examined the rest of the kitchen, asked some questions about where I had heard noises, walked the parameter of the house outside, and eventually went out into the garage and ventured up into the attic.
In pretty short order, the younger of the two men, seemingly still in training, came in from the garage and asked me for another bag. Specifically, a much larger bag than the Wal-Mart bag.
I somehow found the words to ask if this was just a larger rat or if there was more than one of them.
"There's probably gonna be more than one, yes ma'am."
He took the bag and went back out. I sat on my couch and started to cry.
Eventually they both came back in, busting me wiping away the last of my tears. I looked up pitifully and asked, "Can I just move?"
The younger guy headed out the front door with the bag. It didn't look too full, though I purposely didn't take a good look at it, but apparently they had only located one corpse after all. I wasn't sure if that was good or bad.
What followed was like a nightmare come true. A description of the 4 different ways they were getting into the attic and house. A more detailed explanation of poison's effects on rats and why that is bad. Far more about rats than I ever wanted to know. For instance:
- Did you know that they shit 60 to 70 pellets per day?
- Did you know they can hold their breath under water for 45 seconds?
- Did you know that you have plumbing running up into your attic, specifically a pipe that goes down to your commode. This pipe is not capped because it needs air at the end of it to allow the commode to flush.
- And most importantly, DID YOU KNOW that rats can crawl down that pipe and get into your house right through your commode bowl?????????
I got to hear 2 stories of rat entrances via commodes. The first involved a lady raising the lid, the rat jumping up on the rim of the seat, shaking itself like a dog, then streaking off into her house. The second involved a lady actually feeling a nibble on her butt as she was sitting.
I would die like Elvis - of a heart attack in my bathroom with my pants around my ankles. Yep, that's how'd they'd find me. Probably with that rat nibbling at my remains.
No more books and magazines in the bathroom for me. No more time sitting there than is absolutely necessary to get the job done.
In case you were wondering, the lady whose butt got nibbled flushed her rat away. Lucky for her it didn't clog her toilet, considering it came through the in pipe voluntarily and no doubt went out the out pipe involuntarily.
But anyway. I was pretty much sold on whatever it was gonna take to get rid of these things before these guys even set foot in my house, but I am sure that all of that information would have completed any convincing I might have still needed at that point.
So. Truly Nolen is coming back this afternoon to repair 2 holes the rats managed to chew their way into the attic through, cap the plumbing pipes with caps with a a strong screen in them, and a few other things to prevent any more outside rats from coming in. Then, they will set traps in the attic and elsewhere (glue traps in the house. I don't want to imagine a glue trap big enough to hold a rat. God help me). They will return to my house every 10 days (or within 24 hours if I call them cuz I hear a rat screaming from a glue trap) and check said traps, dispose of bodies, and reset traps, for as long as it takes them to stop finding trapped bodies when they visit. Then they will come back and check things out every 90 days, for a year.
You don't even want to know what all of that is going to cost. The good news is that it also includes prevention and treatment for other critters, such as spiders and insects and them flying roaches I was talking about before, for a whole year.
And anyway, can you really put a price on peace of mind?
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
A Little Perspective
I was all set to come here and vent about the horrible day I had on Friday. But before I could quite get to that, something else happened that refreshed my perspective on some things.
Not that my day on Friday didn't completely suck. I still very definitely plan to rant about it. But we'll get to that later.
Saturday night my mom and I took my dad to the emergency room. In the matter of a short time on Saturday evening while we were at their store, he became extremely disoriented and basically just out of it. He has had a cold for awhile now, and for that and various other reasons we decided to head to the ER.
The long and short of it, after all the poking and prodding and bazillions of tests that they do: He was diagnosed with pneumonia and definitely needed to be at the hospital. He was released on Monday evening after a subsequent chest x-ray showed the pneumonia was gone, though he still has a cough as the cold is not gone. But he is doing much better and will be fine with time and rest.
We know now that he will be fine. But sitting in Trauma Room 12 at the ER on Saturday night, all night, not knowing yet what was going on with him, and listening to all that is going on around us was very disturbing. I guess they don't call them trauma rooms for nothing. Only curtains separated the trauma rooms from each other, so we were privy to everything in at least rooms 11 and 13 on either side of us, and then some. Dad was dozing in between the tests they were doing, and we generally had nothing better to do than sit there and take everything in.
For starters, an older lady died in room 11. Granted, she came from a nursing home and had already passed before she got to the ER, but nonetheless they tried to revive her for a bit and finally called her time of death. A short time later, in room 13, another older lady coded and they worked on her for some time before she too passed. It was the most like "ER" the tv show I have ever seen in an actual ER, people running around and hollering and frantic. Not that I frequent ERs.
So at this point, the patients in the trauma rooms on either side of us have died, rest their souls. An unsettling turn of events in an already stressful situation.
Next was the big biker guy that they wheeled by us enroute to a room. He was covered in blood and groaning in pain. We overheard later that he'd had a motorcycle accident going 80 mph and dislocated his leg, among numerous other injuries. We heard his yells as the doctor relocated his leg (or whatever the proper medical term is). Though it totally wasn't funny, my mom and I both giggled as we heard this poor guy's loud yelp of pain, then the doctor say "sorry", right before the poor fellow yelled even louder. I know I'll never be able to adequately explain to anyone else why we giggled but we both understood why at the time. It was just the way the doctor said "sorry" in the middle. Nevermind. I hope this poor guy heals up and goes home soon if he hasn't already.
Ultimately a young man was brought into room 11. I caught a glimpse of him when I went to the vending machines --he looked to be in his early to mid 20's. He had apparently been stabbed several hours earlier and had wanted to avoid the hospital. He did not want the police called and did not want to press charges, although the nurse advised him that she thought they were required to notify the police about stabbings, gunshot wounds, etc.
The doctor explained to him that he would need exploratory surgery so they could determine the extent of the damage of the stab wound. He talked about the possibilities of what they might find in this surgery and how the damage would be repaired, the various possibilities, speaking of colostomy and other things I'd have rather not heard about. The doctor carefully explained that without this surgery and ultimate repair, he would probably die.
The young man pondered that for a bit (what's to ponder???) then decided to go ahead with the surgery. The doctor left and a nurse began to prep him for surgery. What we heard then went a little something like this:
Man: Do I uh, need to let you know if I've uh, done anything tonight?
Nurse: Done anything? Like what?
Man: Like drugs and whatever
Nurse: Yes, we would need that information. What have you taken?
Man: Uh, meth.
Nurse: Meth. Ok, I will let the doctor know. Anything else?
Man: No. Ok. I'm gonna go smoke a cigarette
Nurse: Sir, you can't go smoke, we are prepping you for surgery now.
Man: Ok, then I don't wanna have the surgery. I wanna go smoke
Nurse: Sir, you understand that without this surgery you will very likely die?
Man: Yeah. I'm gonna go smoke now.
Nurse: Can you wait just a moment please?
The nurse goes flying past us, comes back in a hurry with the doctor and at least 3 other nurses in tow.
Doctor: I understand you have decided not to have the surgery and you want to leave?
Man: Yeah
Doctor: You understand if you leave here you are probably going to die? It's a simple procedure...
He goes on to explain again in detail what is to be done, ultimately convincing the guy it is in his best interest to forego his nicotine fit and sit and stay a spell.
Then the police arrived to talk to this guy about the stabbing.
It was quite a fairy tale. He went to a store for a pack of smokes and some guys he didn't even know just suddenly jumped out and stabbed him for no good reason - didn't even rob him.
Not to say that couldn't be true in this day and age, but I'd find it highly unlikely considering his aforementioned meth use earlier in the evening.
They finally wheeled him away to the OR. I wish him well. I hope he came through just fine and doesn't have to deal with the colostomy stuff. He wasn't gonna have the surgery so he could go have a smoke. And I thought I had a nicotine problem.
Before my dad was finally taken to a room, we heard one of the nurses telling someone that it had been "quite a night, 3 people died."
I don't know how the ER staff does it. I couldn't deal with all of that, day in and day out. More power to you. And thank you.
Not that my day on Friday didn't completely suck. I still very definitely plan to rant about it. But we'll get to that later.
Saturday night my mom and I took my dad to the emergency room. In the matter of a short time on Saturday evening while we were at their store, he became extremely disoriented and basically just out of it. He has had a cold for awhile now, and for that and various other reasons we decided to head to the ER.
The long and short of it, after all the poking and prodding and bazillions of tests that they do: He was diagnosed with pneumonia and definitely needed to be at the hospital. He was released on Monday evening after a subsequent chest x-ray showed the pneumonia was gone, though he still has a cough as the cold is not gone. But he is doing much better and will be fine with time and rest.
We know now that he will be fine. But sitting in Trauma Room 12 at the ER on Saturday night, all night, not knowing yet what was going on with him, and listening to all that is going on around us was very disturbing. I guess they don't call them trauma rooms for nothing. Only curtains separated the trauma rooms from each other, so we were privy to everything in at least rooms 11 and 13 on either side of us, and then some. Dad was dozing in between the tests they were doing, and we generally had nothing better to do than sit there and take everything in.
For starters, an older lady died in room 11. Granted, she came from a nursing home and had already passed before she got to the ER, but nonetheless they tried to revive her for a bit and finally called her time of death. A short time later, in room 13, another older lady coded and they worked on her for some time before she too passed. It was the most like "ER" the tv show I have ever seen in an actual ER, people running around and hollering and frantic. Not that I frequent ERs.
So at this point, the patients in the trauma rooms on either side of us have died, rest their souls. An unsettling turn of events in an already stressful situation.
Next was the big biker guy that they wheeled by us enroute to a room. He was covered in blood and groaning in pain. We overheard later that he'd had a motorcycle accident going 80 mph and dislocated his leg, among numerous other injuries. We heard his yells as the doctor relocated his leg (or whatever the proper medical term is). Though it totally wasn't funny, my mom and I both giggled as we heard this poor guy's loud yelp of pain, then the doctor say "sorry", right before the poor fellow yelled even louder. I know I'll never be able to adequately explain to anyone else why we giggled but we both understood why at the time. It was just the way the doctor said "sorry" in the middle. Nevermind. I hope this poor guy heals up and goes home soon if he hasn't already.
Ultimately a young man was brought into room 11. I caught a glimpse of him when I went to the vending machines --he looked to be in his early to mid 20's. He had apparently been stabbed several hours earlier and had wanted to avoid the hospital. He did not want the police called and did not want to press charges, although the nurse advised him that she thought they were required to notify the police about stabbings, gunshot wounds, etc.
The doctor explained to him that he would need exploratory surgery so they could determine the extent of the damage of the stab wound. He talked about the possibilities of what they might find in this surgery and how the damage would be repaired, the various possibilities, speaking of colostomy and other things I'd have rather not heard about. The doctor carefully explained that without this surgery and ultimate repair, he would probably die.
The young man pondered that for a bit (what's to ponder???) then decided to go ahead with the surgery. The doctor left and a nurse began to prep him for surgery. What we heard then went a little something like this:
Man: Do I uh, need to let you know if I've uh, done anything tonight?
Nurse: Done anything? Like what?
Man: Like drugs and whatever
Nurse: Yes, we would need that information. What have you taken?
Man: Uh, meth.
Nurse: Meth. Ok, I will let the doctor know. Anything else?
Man: No. Ok. I'm gonna go smoke a cigarette
Nurse: Sir, you can't go smoke, we are prepping you for surgery now.
Man: Ok, then I don't wanna have the surgery. I wanna go smoke
Nurse: Sir, you understand that without this surgery you will very likely die?
Man: Yeah. I'm gonna go smoke now.
Nurse: Can you wait just a moment please?
The nurse goes flying past us, comes back in a hurry with the doctor and at least 3 other nurses in tow.
Doctor: I understand you have decided not to have the surgery and you want to leave?
Man: Yeah
Doctor: You understand if you leave here you are probably going to die? It's a simple procedure...
He goes on to explain again in detail what is to be done, ultimately convincing the guy it is in his best interest to forego his nicotine fit and sit and stay a spell.
Then the police arrived to talk to this guy about the stabbing.
It was quite a fairy tale. He went to a store for a pack of smokes and some guys he didn't even know just suddenly jumped out and stabbed him for no good reason - didn't even rob him.
Not to say that couldn't be true in this day and age, but I'd find it highly unlikely considering his aforementioned meth use earlier in the evening.
They finally wheeled him away to the OR. I wish him well. I hope he came through just fine and doesn't have to deal with the colostomy stuff. He wasn't gonna have the surgery so he could go have a smoke. And I thought I had a nicotine problem.
Before my dad was finally taken to a room, we heard one of the nurses telling someone that it had been "quite a night, 3 people died."
I don't know how the ER staff does it. I couldn't deal with all of that, day in and day out. More power to you. And thank you.
Monday, February 06, 2006
Tune in Tomorrow
I haven't forgotten about my blog.
I just had a completely disastrous 3-day weekend that you will no doubt get a kick out of at least part of once I get around to writing about it.
Sorry, you will have to hang on the edge of your seat just a little longer...
I just had a completely disastrous 3-day weekend that you will no doubt get a kick out of at least part of once I get around to writing about it.
Sorry, you will have to hang on the edge of your seat just a little longer...
Thursday, February 02, 2006
Yep, this about sums it up
Here we have 4 out of 5 of my dogs (sorta). I think this speaks for itself.
The new used car honeymoon is over
Boy am I tired. Understandably. I finally got home at 11:00 p.m. last night.
I'll spare you most of the gory details, but the car is fixed and all it cost me was 15 bucks and dinner at Wendy's.
It was indeed a belt problem, which even I was able to determine when I left work and raised the hood at my uncle's request. No belt at all would indeed seem to be a problem. So I picked the kid up and arranged to meet Uncle at an exit off the highway just outside of downtown, since he knows nothing about downtown Dallas and I haven't exactly seen any auto parts stores around there anyway.
In the meantime, he called Auto Zone, who informed him that the belt controlled the power steering and the alternator.
Oh. So THAT'S what the power steering and the battery light have to do with each other.
The alternator was kind enough to get me outside of downtown, but when after parking initially in front of Wal Mart, I decided to drive over across the parking lot and park in front of Best Buy so I could run in while I was waiting, the battery light started flashing and frantically "ding ding ding"ing at me. The radio also suddenly shut itself off, I assume to save resources.
That is one smart car, lemme tell ya. It's like it thinks.
Anyway, as you can imagine from my 11pm arrival at home, it took some time to go get the belt and put it on etc etc but the car is fixed and I'm not even broke as a result.
The new used car honeymoon is definitely over, though.
It didn't leave me stranded, but it would have if I'd tried to go any farther than I did. Much like seeing my car on a tow truck, my feelings about cars change after the first time they let me down mechanically. No more "Lalalalala, look at me in my new used car, woohoo!"
I am sure that the car is fine now; it doesn't have many miles on it and was well taken care of by the little old lady who had it before me.
How do I know a little old lady had it before me? Trust me. Only a little old lady could average 5800 miles a year on a car.
I just hope she appreciates that the belt issue happened to me and not to her.
Then again, maybe it happened because the car is freaking out. I told you, it's like the car thinks. "Oh shit. Somebody's like, driving me for REAL now. We can't have that, I'm getting tired. I know, I'll break a belt. That'll slow this bitch down (evil laugh)."
No, Sally, I hate to tell ya, but it won't. Get used to it.
I'll spare you most of the gory details, but the car is fixed and all it cost me was 15 bucks and dinner at Wendy's.
It was indeed a belt problem, which even I was able to determine when I left work and raised the hood at my uncle's request. No belt at all would indeed seem to be a problem. So I picked the kid up and arranged to meet Uncle at an exit off the highway just outside of downtown, since he knows nothing about downtown Dallas and I haven't exactly seen any auto parts stores around there anyway.
In the meantime, he called Auto Zone, who informed him that the belt controlled the power steering and the alternator.
Oh. So THAT'S what the power steering and the battery light have to do with each other.
The alternator was kind enough to get me outside of downtown, but when after parking initially in front of Wal Mart, I decided to drive over across the parking lot and park in front of Best Buy so I could run in while I was waiting, the battery light started flashing and frantically "ding ding ding"ing at me. The radio also suddenly shut itself off, I assume to save resources.
That is one smart car, lemme tell ya. It's like it thinks.
Anyway, as you can imagine from my 11pm arrival at home, it took some time to go get the belt and put it on etc etc but the car is fixed and I'm not even broke as a result.
The new used car honeymoon is definitely over, though.
It didn't leave me stranded, but it would have if I'd tried to go any farther than I did. Much like seeing my car on a tow truck, my feelings about cars change after the first time they let me down mechanically. No more "Lalalalala, look at me in my new used car, woohoo!"
I am sure that the car is fine now; it doesn't have many miles on it and was well taken care of by the little old lady who had it before me.
How do I know a little old lady had it before me? Trust me. Only a little old lady could average 5800 miles a year on a car.
I just hope she appreciates that the belt issue happened to me and not to her.
Then again, maybe it happened because the car is freaking out. I told you, it's like the car thinks. "Oh shit. Somebody's like, driving me for REAL now. We can't have that, I'm getting tired. I know, I'll break a belt. That'll slow this bitch down (evil laugh)."
No, Sally, I hate to tell ya, but it won't. Get used to it.
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