Rocco will be getting his wings tomorrow and I am a mess. Maybe it would be easier if he was old but he's a young boy and the sunlight in my life. I've been having a rough time lately what with working and living with the husband who seems hell bent on putting me in my place. He finishes sentences for me, incorrectly, answers my questions to him with that unspoken 'dumbshit' on the end. He's contentious and argumentative and I have given up trying to find it. He no longer bothers to pay attention to what I tell him and then becomes offended that he didn't know something because I didn't tell him. I've given up telling him that I've already told him such and such and allow myself to be diminished. Some days, as I cross the parking lot to my car, i swear I can actually feel myself shrinking. I wonder what hap[pens when I finally shrink away to a speck. The only reason he'd even notice my absence would be when he needs me to do something for him. So losing my best bud and my cheerleader and the goofiest dog ever born is killing me. I'll still have my little Ollie who is already trying to fill Rocco's shoes but I am so broken. Rocco has never cut me off or looked at me like I was something stuck to the bottom of his shoe. I've never been reproached with the unspoken dumbshit. As far as he is concerned, the sun rises and sets in me and oh how I will miss that.
HOWEVER, I know I am doing the best for him. What kind of mother would I be if I let him suffer to protect my own fragile feelings? tonight his face is so swollen he can't eat his usual food so he and Ollie pigged out on two small cans of vienna sausages, a smell I cannot stand, but a treat for the dogs. I've saved a can of them to feed him tomorrow before he goes and I am washing a blanket for him to be wrapped in. He's coming back home tojoin the others under the tree and I hope my Mutley is there to lead him on. I don't want my weakness to keep his spirit here. I want him to fly like the winged things that visited me all summer. I want him to soar and to wait for me acorss that bridge because he is and will always be my boy, my clown, my Rocco. Sleep well, dear boy. Momma loves you
Monday, December 27, 2010
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Snowy Thursday
It's snowing, which means that the entire state of Maryland should be grinding to a halt any time now and I dare you to be able to find, toilet paper, milk and white bread on the store shelves. Oldest son and I went grocery shopping yesterday so it can snow as much as it wants. I was out in it earlier and it was actually a lot of slip sliding going on but my little car and I made it easily, mostly because I kept talking to her and telling her what a good girl she is. Yes, I am insane but not certifiably, at least not yet. However, I do feel as if I am fast descending that slippery slope and wonder what I will find at the bottom.
I am having a horrendous time dealing with Rocco's fast approaching death. I half convinced myself that the doctor was wrong, that all the winged things, 11:11's and the rest of the signs were telling me I was heading for a miracle. I have lost other animals before but I never suffered like I am doing now. I think what makes this all so hard is Rocco's zest for life. I swear to god he has to be the happiest dog in the world. It's a wonder he hasn't mamnaged to wag his tail clear off and that grin.... But he is failing and I see it and my heart weeps and I cannot bear it. I cannot have him leave me. I need that ridiculous joy he shows me everytime I wal into the house. I need his enthusiasm for a ridiculous game we invented called simply The Game. I need him to think I am the best thing that he ever knew, even better than catfood and whatever fell off someone's dinner plate.
Of course, I have always felt that I do not deserve such devotion and that the dog is only a silly fool to even LIKE me. I too often remember my mother telling me that people were only friends with me for my body, or my money, or to know my mother. I was in high scholl when she told me that, over and over, and I have always believed it. When people seem to be my friend, they are just being nice. With Rocco, I know it's me he adores, even when I don't have anything for him to eat. Rocco is also youngand so I wonder why he has to go and not that mangy ex stray cat we have who spends her life either eating or asleep in front of the heat vents. She's 16, had a long life and I am selfish enough to wonder why it couldn't be her.
This is really so so hard on me and for me. My head is full of it, my eyes burn from tears and yes, I am being selfish. I want Rocco whole and healthy and here for me but, I also know that isn't possible. So instead I wish the angels would take him in his sleep and we do not have to put him down.
starting tomorrow, the husband is giving me a number of days off before and after Christmas and since my mouseless lap top has not yet made its way back to me, who knows when I'll write again.
So Merry Christmas.
I am having a horrendous time dealing with Rocco's fast approaching death. I half convinced myself that the doctor was wrong, that all the winged things, 11:11's and the rest of the signs were telling me I was heading for a miracle. I have lost other animals before but I never suffered like I am doing now. I think what makes this all so hard is Rocco's zest for life. I swear to god he has to be the happiest dog in the world. It's a wonder he hasn't mamnaged to wag his tail clear off and that grin.... But he is failing and I see it and my heart weeps and I cannot bear it. I cannot have him leave me. I need that ridiculous joy he shows me everytime I wal into the house. I need his enthusiasm for a ridiculous game we invented called simply The Game. I need him to think I am the best thing that he ever knew, even better than catfood and whatever fell off someone's dinner plate.
Of course, I have always felt that I do not deserve such devotion and that the dog is only a silly fool to even LIKE me. I too often remember my mother telling me that people were only friends with me for my body, or my money, or to know my mother. I was in high scholl when she told me that, over and over, and I have always believed it. When people seem to be my friend, they are just being nice. With Rocco, I know it's me he adores, even when I don't have anything for him to eat. Rocco is also youngand so I wonder why he has to go and not that mangy ex stray cat we have who spends her life either eating or asleep in front of the heat vents. She's 16, had a long life and I am selfish enough to wonder why it couldn't be her.
This is really so so hard on me and for me. My head is full of it, my eyes burn from tears and yes, I am being selfish. I want Rocco whole and healthy and here for me but, I also know that isn't possible. So instead I wish the angels would take him in his sleep and we do not have to put him down.
starting tomorrow, the husband is giving me a number of days off before and after Christmas and since my mouseless lap top has not yet made its way back to me, who knows when I'll write again.
So Merry Christmas.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Is it possible
that I have Spring Fever in DECEMBER?????
All I know is the very last thing I want to do is sit here in this office and do the same stuff over and over again till my mind turns to mush. Maybe I'm just being seduced by the sunlight pouring into my office window but you would think that the cold wind blowing into the office through badly fitting window would bea smack up side the telling telling me it's WINTER idiot!
I hate being cold. I'll take hot and sweaty any time over frozen tootsies, not to mention frozen nosen.
The husband had the news on this morning and it showed a crowd of protestors in London, facing off with the police. The pics were taken from on high and so the protestors were a mass of dark colors while the London Bobbies were in a flourescent sort of green colored raincoats... I assume...So the newscaster is rambling on and on describing the scene and he goes as far as to tell us that the police are the groupin the left of the screen. Yep. We surely needed to know that because, well, we could have thought that the protestors all got together and DECIDED TO WEAR THE SAME THING today. But wait. It wasn't over. The announcers uses his oh oh voice and tells us to look at what's coming. Let's see, firing squads, tanks, bombs. No, MEN ON HORSES!! Horses who must have gotten the memo because THEY were wearing the same green as the police. Somehow I just can't think of Londoners as rowdy. I have imagine the mounted cops murmuring "pardon", "Excuse me", "So sorry" as they ride (slowly) into the crowd while the chinese just would have driven over them with tanks.
Another time on one of those ghost shows this women said very seriously the the light she saw was luminescent. Talk about redundant. Could a light be any other way, since luminescent basicly means something emitting light. Arrrggg.
Drug is another word that drives me mad especially when they need to say dragged. A medicine's side effects may be aggressiveness.... I don't even know if that's a word. How about using aggression, less syllables and it means what you want to say. No sense in wasting syllables. Who knows when you might run out.
Lumpy... I mean Rocco the Wonder Dog is still hanging in there and now he is well into week three. I keep hoping for a miracle.
So that's it for me, here and now. Still no laptop, I don't even know what to look for, and I really do have to get back to work. Have to earn that $50 a week that I get. Hang tight.
All I know is the very last thing I want to do is sit here in this office and do the same stuff over and over again till my mind turns to mush. Maybe I'm just being seduced by the sunlight pouring into my office window but you would think that the cold wind blowing into the office through badly fitting window would bea smack up side the telling telling me it's WINTER idiot!
I hate being cold. I'll take hot and sweaty any time over frozen tootsies, not to mention frozen nosen.
The husband had the news on this morning and it showed a crowd of protestors in London, facing off with the police. The pics were taken from on high and so the protestors were a mass of dark colors while the London Bobbies were in a flourescent sort of green colored raincoats... I assume...So the newscaster is rambling on and on describing the scene and he goes as far as to tell us that the police are the groupin the left of the screen. Yep. We surely needed to know that because, well, we could have thought that the protestors all got together and DECIDED TO WEAR THE SAME THING today. But wait. It wasn't over. The announcers uses his oh oh voice and tells us to look at what's coming. Let's see, firing squads, tanks, bombs. No, MEN ON HORSES!! Horses who must have gotten the memo because THEY were wearing the same green as the police. Somehow I just can't think of Londoners as rowdy. I have imagine the mounted cops murmuring "pardon", "Excuse me", "So sorry" as they ride (slowly) into the crowd while the chinese just would have driven over them with tanks.
Another time on one of those ghost shows this women said very seriously the the light she saw was luminescent. Talk about redundant. Could a light be any other way, since luminescent basicly means something emitting light. Arrrggg.
Drug is another word that drives me mad especially when they need to say dragged. A medicine's side effects may be aggressiveness.... I don't even know if that's a word. How about using aggression, less syllables and it means what you want to say. No sense in wasting syllables. Who knows when you might run out.
Lumpy... I mean Rocco the Wonder Dog is still hanging in there and now he is well into week three. I keep hoping for a miracle.
So that's it for me, here and now. Still no laptop, I don't even know what to look for, and I really do have to get back to work. Have to earn that $50 a week that I get. Hang tight.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Once more with gusto
I'm trying to add pics to this blog and am now attempting my fourth go around. I got them into the blog but not where I wanted it. Then I couldn't get them INTO the blog and then I was getting duplicates. So either I will be successful or this computer will be the first one that learns how to fly
That being said.... TAAADAHH Rocco the Wonder Dog before he was Rocco the Lumpy Dog. He's grinning giving him that unbearably goofy look of his that makes youwant to smooch him silly.
Then there is the one of Rocco in his pose so that all can admire him and the last one is Rocco on his desk. Ok so now I have them backwards...aaaarrggghhh. I'm just going to keep going and you can figure them out for yourself.
Where would Rocco be without Little dog Ollie... he of the big ego and personality. He's just gotten groomed and has his jaunty neckerchief on and the toy the groomer lady gave him. She even sent a scarf and toy home for Rocco so that Rocco would fe
el better.
and then there is what Ollie usually looks like between groomings. any way you look at it, he's adorable.
That's going to be it for Photos for a bit until I can figure out how to do them RIGHT! Any suggestions, email me.
Ok. Now since I've become OCD lately with the creepy winged thing, 11:11 stuff et al, I need to update you.
First of all, I lost the opalite Angel pendant that I wear on a 4 strand stainless steel neck thingee that I wear because chains break. Well, angel and neck thing are both gone. As if that wasn't bad enough, two nights in a row, when I've decided it was time to go to bed and looked up at the internet box it's been... yep 11:11. Then the crows, or ravens. I'm sitting in the car, at the bank, waiting for the husband to come out and there is this huge flock of crows circling around and around the lot, coming to roost on the sign right by the car and taking off again. I have NEVER seen a flock of crows in that area. Pigeons yes, occasionally sparrows but never crows. This is the same bank lot of my much earlier dragonfly sightings.
And then a truck pulls into the parking lot with the name OWL trucking on the side. Ok so maybe I'm pushing it with the owl but I am definitely freaked. I know crows aren't a good sign as is three knocks on a door with no one there and I find myself nearly holding my breath waiting for whatever it is that's coming to come. I have the type of mind that runs off with me, thinking all kinds of outrageous thoughts and scaring myself half out of my mind. I wish I knew a psychic who could tell me what's up but I don't and I don't want to pay beau coup bucks to one on line.
An aside: One of the sons, when they were little, told me you'd have to be psychic to be able to SPELL psychic.
I guess I'm recording this here so that when the whatever occurs i have proof that I knew something was coming.
I went to ebay and bought not one but 4 opalite angel pendants for a grand total of $2.50, so I should get back to full angel mode by the end of the month.
We went Christmas shopping yesterday and shopped till I nearly dropped and treated ourself to dinner out and then I fought a stomach ache for the rest of the night. That's what spending money does to me. But we are nearly finished with the christmas shopping and now comes the wrapping part. I even got a new winter coat so I don't have to walk around in that pink one I bought for $7 at Walmart last year, that makes me look like a raspberry, the coat, not last year. I got the coat now because what would be the sense of giving me a coat for christmas if I froze to death beside it, or found myself in a Willie Wonka Movie playing the part of a raspberry.
So that's it, for now. I wonder what other lovely angel/winged things will pop up to drive me completely around the bend.
Friday, December 3, 2010
Do NOT drag me into your disfunction
I got to go out by myself today. That rarely happens and when it does I take advantage of it. I went to my favorite thrift store for stuff and then a number of stops later I found myself in a dollar store.
Do you ever find yourself trapped behind a shopper in a store? No matter how you try to avoid them they always seem right in front of you hogging up the aisle. This time it was a couple and the husband was grumbling about some woman who did something he didn't like. The wife told him that the woman had said excuse me three times but the husband didn't move. Of course, the guy wouldn't admit to being brain dead so he grumbled something about how he should have stayed in the car. The wife told him she wished he had because he had been cussing her out the whole time they were in the store.
Now you have to know that I was minding my own business, waiting for the guy to shift his butt so I could reach the crackers. And these people were speaking loudly.
"Cussin' you out?" the guy said "All I did was call you a bitch."
And thenfor some god unknown reason the fool turned and grinned at me. Oh he was so smug and wanting someone to see how clever he was. So I looked him right in the eys and told him that his mother must be so proud, then I grabbed my crackers and went on my way. He muttered something about how his mother was proud but the wife called his bluff and announced"She told you that time, didn't she?"
Ok. I can be nosy. If you are going to speak loudly, I will evesdrop. I might even start a conversation with you but I REFUSE TO LET YOU DRAG ME INTO YOUR DISFUNCTIONAL BEHAVIOR no matter how great you think you are. I battle my own disfunction and have no time to waste on you.
How do these people manage to find me? I must be wearing some kind of sign on my back. Or mayhbe I hsould just find myself a better class of dollar store.
Do you ever find yourself trapped behind a shopper in a store? No matter how you try to avoid them they always seem right in front of you hogging up the aisle. This time it was a couple and the husband was grumbling about some woman who did something he didn't like. The wife told him that the woman had said excuse me three times but the husband didn't move. Of course, the guy wouldn't admit to being brain dead so he grumbled something about how he should have stayed in the car. The wife told him she wished he had because he had been cussing her out the whole time they were in the store.
Now you have to know that I was minding my own business, waiting for the guy to shift his butt so I could reach the crackers. And these people were speaking loudly.
"Cussin' you out?" the guy said "All I did was call you a bitch."
And thenfor some god unknown reason the fool turned and grinned at me. Oh he was so smug and wanting someone to see how clever he was. So I looked him right in the eys and told him that his mother must be so proud, then I grabbed my crackers and went on my way. He muttered something about how his mother was proud but the wife called his bluff and announced"She told you that time, didn't she?"
Ok. I can be nosy. If you are going to speak loudly, I will evesdrop. I might even start a conversation with you but I REFUSE TO LET YOU DRAG ME INTO YOUR DISFUNCTIONAL BEHAVIOR no matter how great you think you are. I battle my own disfunction and have no time to waste on you.
How do these people manage to find me? I must be wearing some kind of sign on my back. Or mayhbe I hsould just find myself a better class of dollar store.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
11:11 update
Yep. Here we go again. I left the craft room last night at 11:11 and this morning I had to send out a fax and the time 11:11. I'm tired of trying to figure out what this means.
Rocco is hanging in there. I keep hoping a miracle will occur.
I took Little Dog Ollie to the groomer today on my own because the husband was tied up with clients that took forever. I swear Ollie wanted to drive but the most I let him do, was shift the car into neutral. It's amazing how stubborn a little guy can be.
We have a client coming in at any moment that is the type of person who makes my head hurt just thinking about them. You probably know someone like this. One who starts to answer a question and before you know it they are so off topic that you feel as if your brain needs a passport to foreign lands. I just don't have the energy to deal with her today so I'm hoping the groomers call soonly and I can go pick up Ollie and avoid the mayhem.
Youngest son's birthday is today and he has a cold. Figures doesn't it?
Not much more to say. But I wanted to document the 11:11 just in case, someday, I can say "See? I told you something was going to happen." I love being right.
Rocco is hanging in there. I keep hoping a miracle will occur.
I took Little Dog Ollie to the groomer today on my own because the husband was tied up with clients that took forever. I swear Ollie wanted to drive but the most I let him do, was shift the car into neutral. It's amazing how stubborn a little guy can be.
We have a client coming in at any moment that is the type of person who makes my head hurt just thinking about them. You probably know someone like this. One who starts to answer a question and before you know it they are so off topic that you feel as if your brain needs a passport to foreign lands. I just don't have the energy to deal with her today so I'm hoping the groomers call soonly and I can go pick up Ollie and avoid the mayhem.
Youngest son's birthday is today and he has a cold. Figures doesn't it?
Not much more to say. But I wanted to document the 11:11 just in case, someday, I can say "See? I told you something was going to happen." I love being right.
Monday, November 29, 2010
What the hell good are signs....
If I don't understand them.
I swear this is going to make my head explode.
I was writing my previous post in the office. The husband had gone to the bathroom... oops... was away from his desk when someone knocked sharply on the office door. Three rapid sharp knocks. it took me by surprise since I hadn't heard anyone come up the steps, nor did the guy in the next office open his door. Again I would have heard it, it has a squeak.
I didn't think any more of it till the husband came back and asked why I had knocked on the guy next door's door. I hadn't, I told him, and the knock was on our door. It was only the three of us in the office, I checked the cars in the lot and the downstairs main door is always locked. So all i can guess is it is just the voices but WHAT DOES IT MEAN??? Something somewhere is trying to tell me something. I need a psychic to tell me what this all means because I can't figure it out for myself.
Insert exploding head here.
Any clue? Any guess? Any psychics out there wanting to give it a go?
WHAT DOES THIS ALL MEAN?
oH AND I"M NOT IMAGINING THINGS because the guy in the next office heard the knocks as well but no sound of someone coming and going and since the building has been around since 18something or other, the stairs creek and groan which means no one can creep up on you.
So now it's late and the husband has gone home and I'll sit here for a bit hoping that something will take advantage of my aloneness and tell me something.
Maybe I should triple my prozac.
I swear this is going to make my head explode.
I was writing my previous post in the office. The husband had gone to the bathroom... oops... was away from his desk when someone knocked sharply on the office door. Three rapid sharp knocks. it took me by surprise since I hadn't heard anyone come up the steps, nor did the guy in the next office open his door. Again I would have heard it, it has a squeak.
I didn't think any more of it till the husband came back and asked why I had knocked on the guy next door's door. I hadn't, I told him, and the knock was on our door. It was only the three of us in the office, I checked the cars in the lot and the downstairs main door is always locked. So all i can guess is it is just the voices but WHAT DOES IT MEAN??? Something somewhere is trying to tell me something. I need a psychic to tell me what this all means because I can't figure it out for myself.
Insert exploding head here.
Any clue? Any guess? Any psychics out there wanting to give it a go?
WHAT DOES THIS ALL MEAN?
oH AND I"M NOT IMAGINING THINGS because the guy in the next office heard the knocks as well but no sound of someone coming and going and since the building has been around since 18something or other, the stairs creek and groan which means no one can creep up on you.
So now it's late and the husband has gone home and I'll sit here for a bit hoping that something will take advantage of my aloneness and tell me something.
Maybe I should triple my prozac.
Still Hanging In
I don't mean to be maudlin but this death sentence of Rocco's is with me every breathing moment. Waiting for the end is horrible. I feel like some wretched vulture waiting to pick his bones. I try to act as if nothing is amiss. We play the chicken jerky game where the jerky gets thrown and he has to find it, only now, I have to break the jerky in smallish pieces or he'll choke. I realised that if I tap my nose, he starts to use his nose yo find something he may have missed. He's had all the turkey he can eat and his own plate of egg nog (non alcoholic) Ham, pie and even whipped cream. The husband took Rocco for a walk by the river and as Michael and Rocco headed up the hill from the river, Michael lost his footing and went down on his knees and Rocco, off leash, came running so that Michael could use him as a support as he pushed himself up.
I want to believe that the vet was wrong that he'll get well but I can feel the lumps under the skin. He's also uncomfortable in his usual sleeping positions but he has adjusted.
My father died of a heart attack after his legs were amputated. My mother died in her sleep. I have never had to live with anyone who have a death sentence. I don't know what to expect. I don't know how to act. People without animals don't understand. I don't understand. What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to act? I've doubled up my prozac but that isn't helping. I feel as if I am dying right alongside him.
I'll get through this, somehow, only it make take sometime and I may be moaning and whining till then. Just hang in there with me.
I want to believe that the vet was wrong that he'll get well but I can feel the lumps under the skin. He's also uncomfortable in his usual sleeping positions but he has adjusted.
My father died of a heart attack after his legs were amputated. My mother died in her sleep. I have never had to live with anyone who have a death sentence. I don't know what to expect. I don't know how to act. People without animals don't understand. I don't understand. What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to act? I've doubled up my prozac but that isn't helping. I feel as if I am dying right alongside him.
I'll get through this, somehow, only it make take sometime and I may be moaning and whining till then. Just hang in there with me.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
So now I know
Since summer, my life has been one oddz bodkinz after another. First it was a variety of winged things that seemed to assume that they were my new best friends and, recently, the whole angels 11:11 thing.
So now I know.
They were just trying to prepare me to lose Rocco.
Oh how it hurts to write those words. Rocco the funny looking puppy whom I did NOT want. Rocco the knucklehead that has done a variety of things to himself from chewing on his toe nails till he couldn't walk, to sliding under a fence togo play with a friend and slicing open his side, that got infected and required him wearing a t-shirt for months. His favorice was myold yellow one with the v neck. Then he got hit by a car, well ass bumped actually but it taught him to stay in the yard. And then there was the night of the endless pukes where I ran out of paper and cloth towel trying to wipe up his throw up.
The worst part of that was trying to convince Rocco that he didn't have to clean it himself.
Which all brings us to yesterday and that word.... Lumphoma.
We have a chinese vet, with a thick accent. I understand him and I half suspected what was coming. (I looked it up) but I didn't expect the prognosis of a week or two. The minute the vet looked at Rocco, he knew and the poor man just kept apologising and apologising. He brought out his vet books for me to read but I knew. If the man could have fixed the dog, he would have.
So Rocco is gong to die soon.
IT ISN'T FAIR!!!!
He's only four years old and smart as a whip. He's taught us his language and was patient with us when we were the Knuckleheads who didn't understand him. He just got to the part where he understands that he has to let the cats finish their meals before he can clean their plates. If there something edible on a tray, he ask permission to have it, by touching it with his nose and not steal it. I have never known a dog with so many facial expressions.
When he was a puppy we took him to the same vet who remarked upon the funny face that Rocco had. He looked like a clown and pretty much acted like one, till he developed a forehead and a more dog like face. Rocco had been bought by the younger son whose girlfriend pestered the hell out of him to get a puppy, and since it wasn't puppy season there wasn't much to choose from and so the goofy looking puppy was chosen.
But looks aside, Rocco only wanted to make you laugh and did some of the wackiest things. When he was a puppy and I'd babysit him in the back yard, he liked to get on my lap when I was sitting on a certain chair. the next summer came around, I was on the chair and he suddenly decided he wanted to be on my lap, the launched himself onto my lap only to fall off because he had gotten too big for laps. But the look on his face was priceless. So instead of sitting on my lap, he went to splash in his baby pool, drenching himself and everything one and thing around him.
He liked sitting in the backyard swing with me as well and it took a couple of mishaps before he realised that he needed a human sitting in the swing to hold it steady while he go on. And once on, he would sit beside me like a person, occasionaly giving me a lick as if I would forget that he was there.
He loves musical toys, especially something with the chicken dance and whenever he got new toy he's turn it on and run around the yard with the song of the moment playing and the humans laughing.
That's part of what is so sad. He has such a joy in him. A love that I have never encountered before. He greets every member of the family as if the best thing in his day is seeing us come home. He gives kisses on demand and sometimes when you don't ask. I was a mess yesterday, falling apart and sobbing and my dear big boy licked my tears away. I need him now, the keyboard is getting hard to see.
But I won't cry, at least not now, there is more to say.
Rocco, as a puppy, loved visiting my craft room. Only he took something out of the room each tiome he visited. I finally started closing my door when I went into the room because one night I spotted a trail of chunky glitter in the hallway and in the middle of the glitter, covered in the stuff was that goofy dog grinning at me like he painted the Mona Lisa. And this year, during a bad thunderstorm he actually got on my lap, while I was on my chair in the craft room and somehow managed to remain there till the storm was over. Usually Rocco stand over me, like he's a bridge, so I can rub his chest and tell him what a good boy he is. We even moved a big wooden desk under the front window where he can sit and watch the world go round and so he's always the first to see you coming home. Each of us have our own greeting. You can tell who's comeing home by the bark.It's going to be so hard coming home once he's gone.
My Rocco. My baby. My buddy. My puppy. I tell him that I don't like big dog and isn't he lucky to be a puppy. I want my puppy.
So. The angels have come to escort him home. That, if anything should announce what a good boy he's been. And these next weeks with the death sentence over his head is going to be hard fro us but Rocco, I AM GOING TO SPOIL HIM ROTYRN!
BTW we have told him that he can go whenevr he's ready and that we will, eventually, be alright. As for now... myheart is broken.
So now I know.
They were just trying to prepare me to lose Rocco.
Oh how it hurts to write those words. Rocco the funny looking puppy whom I did NOT want. Rocco the knucklehead that has done a variety of things to himself from chewing on his toe nails till he couldn't walk, to sliding under a fence togo play with a friend and slicing open his side, that got infected and required him wearing a t-shirt for months. His favorice was myold yellow one with the v neck. Then he got hit by a car, well ass bumped actually but it taught him to stay in the yard. And then there was the night of the endless pukes where I ran out of paper and cloth towel trying to wipe up his throw up.
The worst part of that was trying to convince Rocco that he didn't have to clean it himself.
Which all brings us to yesterday and that word.... Lumphoma.
We have a chinese vet, with a thick accent. I understand him and I half suspected what was coming. (I looked it up) but I didn't expect the prognosis of a week or two. The minute the vet looked at Rocco, he knew and the poor man just kept apologising and apologising. He brought out his vet books for me to read but I knew. If the man could have fixed the dog, he would have.
So Rocco is gong to die soon.
IT ISN'T FAIR!!!!
He's only four years old and smart as a whip. He's taught us his language and was patient with us when we were the Knuckleheads who didn't understand him. He just got to the part where he understands that he has to let the cats finish their meals before he can clean their plates. If there something edible on a tray, he ask permission to have it, by touching it with his nose and not steal it. I have never known a dog with so many facial expressions.
When he was a puppy we took him to the same vet who remarked upon the funny face that Rocco had. He looked like a clown and pretty much acted like one, till he developed a forehead and a more dog like face. Rocco had been bought by the younger son whose girlfriend pestered the hell out of him to get a puppy, and since it wasn't puppy season there wasn't much to choose from and so the goofy looking puppy was chosen.
But looks aside, Rocco only wanted to make you laugh and did some of the wackiest things. When he was a puppy and I'd babysit him in the back yard, he liked to get on my lap when I was sitting on a certain chair. the next summer came around, I was on the chair and he suddenly decided he wanted to be on my lap, the launched himself onto my lap only to fall off because he had gotten too big for laps. But the look on his face was priceless. So instead of sitting on my lap, he went to splash in his baby pool, drenching himself and everything one and thing around him.
He liked sitting in the backyard swing with me as well and it took a couple of mishaps before he realised that he needed a human sitting in the swing to hold it steady while he go on. And once on, he would sit beside me like a person, occasionaly giving me a lick as if I would forget that he was there.
He loves musical toys, especially something with the chicken dance and whenever he got new toy he's turn it on and run around the yard with the song of the moment playing and the humans laughing.
That's part of what is so sad. He has such a joy in him. A love that I have never encountered before. He greets every member of the family as if the best thing in his day is seeing us come home. He gives kisses on demand and sometimes when you don't ask. I was a mess yesterday, falling apart and sobbing and my dear big boy licked my tears away. I need him now, the keyboard is getting hard to see.
But I won't cry, at least not now, there is more to say.
Rocco, as a puppy, loved visiting my craft room. Only he took something out of the room each tiome he visited. I finally started closing my door when I went into the room because one night I spotted a trail of chunky glitter in the hallway and in the middle of the glitter, covered in the stuff was that goofy dog grinning at me like he painted the Mona Lisa. And this year, during a bad thunderstorm he actually got on my lap, while I was on my chair in the craft room and somehow managed to remain there till the storm was over. Usually Rocco stand over me, like he's a bridge, so I can rub his chest and tell him what a good boy he is. We even moved a big wooden desk under the front window where he can sit and watch the world go round and so he's always the first to see you coming home. Each of us have our own greeting. You can tell who's comeing home by the bark.It's going to be so hard coming home once he's gone.
My Rocco. My baby. My buddy. My puppy. I tell him that I don't like big dog and isn't he lucky to be a puppy. I want my puppy.
So. The angels have come to escort him home. That, if anything should announce what a good boy he's been. And these next weeks with the death sentence over his head is going to be hard fro us but Rocco, I AM GOING TO SPOIL HIM ROTYRN!
BTW we have told him that he can go whenevr he's ready and that we will, eventually, be alright. As for now... myheart is broken.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
PTUI! PTUI! PTUI!
The USBs stopped working on the back of my lap top. I took it to Office Depot. I was told it would take two to three weeks and would cost a total of $299.99. A total of $299.99. A week after we took it in we got a call that it was ready, went to pick it up to find that they were JUST sending it in then because they needed to wait for a box???????!!!!!huh?
Now they want $250 more and won't give me a clear answer as to if I decline it do I get my money back. Got some kid on the phone who obviously did not know what was going on... or even what day it was and who claimed she would call me back. I swear to god I want to spit or strangle someone or something.
Apparently to fix the usb they have to replace the motherboard so why didn't computer geek guy tell me that while he was looking at the innards. I even had the back off the comptuer and the screw in a container when I gave it to them. What kind of tech doesn't know you need a motherboard when your USB stops functioning.
I think I have a fight on my hands and just don't know if I'm up to it.
I've been computerless at home for more than two weeks and I HATE it.
I should have figured things wouldn't have gone smoothly. DAmn
Now they want $250 more and won't give me a clear answer as to if I decline it do I get my money back. Got some kid on the phone who obviously did not know what was going on... or even what day it was and who claimed she would call me back. I swear to god I want to spit or strangle someone or something.
Apparently to fix the usb they have to replace the motherboard so why didn't computer geek guy tell me that while he was looking at the innards. I even had the back off the comptuer and the screw in a container when I gave it to them. What kind of tech doesn't know you need a motherboard when your USB stops functioning.
I think I have a fight on my hands and just don't know if I'm up to it.
I've been computerless at home for more than two weeks and I HATE it.
I should have figured things wouldn't have gone smoothly. DAmn
Monday, November 15, 2010
Better start getting that padded cell ready
Last night I decided to call it quits and go to bed early.
Really early.
Like 4PM early.
So there I was, snuggled under my electric blanket, probably snoring away (if the husband can be believed when, suddenly, I was wide awake, laying on my back and staring at the ceiling.
There was an odd rectangle of light crossing the ceiling. A perfect rectangle with straight sharp edges and not at all soft and whispy, the way light usually looks. I stared at the rectangle for a moment, wondering how the light could be so straight, till I noticed that something else was in that light. Moving along in that light. Sliding across the ceiling.
An aside. I wear a carved moonstone pendant in the shape of an angel. The body is shaped somewhat like a butterfly's body but the wings arch up and around it, cradling the body shape.
This was the shape in the light. Not only was it in the light but it was brighter than, intensely brighter than the rectangle of light. It moved across the ceiling till it reached the opposite wall and it was all dark again in an instant.
You may think it could have been headlights but I've been in the house 28 years and NEVER saw a light like this one. Now what do I file this under? Winged things or perhaps 11:11?
I still don't know what all this is trying to tell me. I feel as if I'm getting an answer to a question I haven't even formed. Maybe I'm just thick and need something to slap me upside the head. I know this must mean SOMETHING, this can't be all random.
Just a few minutes ago, in the office, the husband comes in from the other room to tell me he heard a mumbled conversation downstairs despite the fact, that there is no one else in the building! He looked slightly rattled. He knows about the voices but never heard them before. So what does this all mean? i suppose I will just have to wait until it plays out and I finally realise what this all means.
As if all of that wasn't confounding enough, now I find myself embarrassed that this is happening to me and wondering if I am worthy of all of this celestial attention. I mean, who am I? I'm no Mother Theresa, I'm not even a particularly good person. Just an ordinary run of the mill kind of person. So why me? Yet another question to be answered.
Really early.
Like 4PM early.
So there I was, snuggled under my electric blanket, probably snoring away (if the husband can be believed when, suddenly, I was wide awake, laying on my back and staring at the ceiling.
There was an odd rectangle of light crossing the ceiling. A perfect rectangle with straight sharp edges and not at all soft and whispy, the way light usually looks. I stared at the rectangle for a moment, wondering how the light could be so straight, till I noticed that something else was in that light. Moving along in that light. Sliding across the ceiling.
An aside. I wear a carved moonstone pendant in the shape of an angel. The body is shaped somewhat like a butterfly's body but the wings arch up and around it, cradling the body shape.
This was the shape in the light. Not only was it in the light but it was brighter than, intensely brighter than the rectangle of light. It moved across the ceiling till it reached the opposite wall and it was all dark again in an instant.
You may think it could have been headlights but I've been in the house 28 years and NEVER saw a light like this one. Now what do I file this under? Winged things or perhaps 11:11?
I still don't know what all this is trying to tell me. I feel as if I'm getting an answer to a question I haven't even formed. Maybe I'm just thick and need something to slap me upside the head. I know this must mean SOMETHING, this can't be all random.
Just a few minutes ago, in the office, the husband comes in from the other room to tell me he heard a mumbled conversation downstairs despite the fact, that there is no one else in the building! He looked slightly rattled. He knows about the voices but never heard them before. So what does this all mean? i suppose I will just have to wait until it plays out and I finally realise what this all means.
As if all of that wasn't confounding enough, now I find myself embarrassed that this is happening to me and wondering if I am worthy of all of this celestial attention. I mean, who am I? I'm no Mother Theresa, I'm not even a particularly good person. Just an ordinary run of the mill kind of person. So why me? Yet another question to be answered.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
IWord Mumbles
I didn't know that the printed word could be mumbled. I'm not talking about intentional font morphing or when some of the titles to my earlier blogs showed up in farsi.
With my winged things and the 11:11 going on, I joined an email group. Now I thought it was going to be agroup of 11:11ers getting together and talking about their 11's. Instead it's posts that are channeled THROUGH people and end up making me want to bang my head on the desk repeatedly. I read them. I really do. I concentrate hard but I have no freakin clue what they are trying to say. And I'm good at deciphering written mumbles. When I worked at the library the head of circulation would send out an email and you could tell when people were reading their because you would hear a "What?" Or "wha?" and, sometimes a "WAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" I would have to read the email a number of time to get to what I thought she was trying to say. I had gotten so good at it that no one bothered reading their emails, only waited for me to tell them what it was. This same head of circulation sent out chapters of the new circ manuals for certain people to read and tell her if the processes worked the way the manual said. And she was the HEAD of circulation. You'd think she'd know. I was one of the people to get a chapter, I always got a chapter or two, and this one time I get the chapter on Checking in Materials. CHECKING in materials EXCEPT and I know you knew this was coming... Every place in the manual where it was supposed to say CHECK IN, it read CHICKEN. Such as the bookdrop chicken, chicken from other branches and chicken from out of the system. Here a chicken, there a chicken every where a chicken chicken.
When I pointed out the error she blamed it on spell check. HUH? WHA? My spell check asks me before it corrects something, that is when I bother to use it, so I could only assume that she had a rowdy spell check that wanted to take over the library in a mad plan to conquer the WORLD!
At least chickens were funny but this 11:11 group email... Even super chicken detector me just couldn't figure it out. And I even speak pig and dog, some cat and a pinch of goat but cannot make out the 11:11ers. Maybe if they were on an ark....
So as youcan see, I have pulled myself together, stopped the pity party and am poking fun at someone else. Back to normal.
With my winged things and the 11:11 going on, I joined an email group. Now I thought it was going to be agroup of 11:11ers getting together and talking about their 11's. Instead it's posts that are channeled THROUGH people and end up making me want to bang my head on the desk repeatedly. I read them. I really do. I concentrate hard but I have no freakin clue what they are trying to say. And I'm good at deciphering written mumbles. When I worked at the library the head of circulation would send out an email and you could tell when people were reading their because you would hear a "What?" Or "wha?" and, sometimes a "WAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" I would have to read the email a number of time to get to what I thought she was trying to say. I had gotten so good at it that no one bothered reading their emails, only waited for me to tell them what it was. This same head of circulation sent out chapters of the new circ manuals for certain people to read and tell her if the processes worked the way the manual said. And she was the HEAD of circulation. You'd think she'd know. I was one of the people to get a chapter, I always got a chapter or two, and this one time I get the chapter on Checking in Materials. CHECKING in materials EXCEPT and I know you knew this was coming... Every place in the manual where it was supposed to say CHECK IN, it read CHICKEN. Such as the bookdrop chicken, chicken from other branches and chicken from out of the system. Here a chicken, there a chicken every where a chicken chicken.
When I pointed out the error she blamed it on spell check. HUH? WHA? My spell check asks me before it corrects something, that is when I bother to use it, so I could only assume that she had a rowdy spell check that wanted to take over the library in a mad plan to conquer the WORLD!
At least chickens were funny but this 11:11 group email... Even super chicken detector me just couldn't figure it out. And I even speak pig and dog, some cat and a pinch of goat but cannot make out the 11:11ers. Maybe if they were on an ark....
So as youcan see, I have pulled myself together, stopped the pity party and am poking fun at someone else. Back to normal.
Trying not to...
run screaming into the night.
Warning: This won't be light and frivolous. It will be pissing and moaning, however.
I am trying my best to hold onto my sanity. Sometimes I think that insanity is the way to go. Insanity to the point where you live in your own little world and the real world never intrudes.
Thanks to whomever put a freeze on foreclosure auctions our business is nearing collapse. We are getting NO new clients, there are still some foreclosures being filed but hardly any. No clients mean no new money and Christmas is coming. I thought we were going to have Christmas money this year but now, who knows. For once, I actually had a list of things that I wanted for Christmas which is a change from other years. Of course in past years there is no reason to make up a list if there is no Christmas.There really are no words to describe nothing on Christmas morning.
So why am I sharing my dirty laundry here, on a blog that anyone could read? It's simple. I have no one to talk to. No one at all. Yes I am married but the man doesn't listen. When i try to get his attention at work I get a dirty look, he throws down his pen, makes a show of turning to face me and barks "WHAT?". Well then, the words stick in my throat, that is if they even escape my whirling brain and I stutter and stammer and try so heard to get it all out before he finishes the sentence for me. The only problem with that is he never finishes it correctly and then I need to struggle with telling him all that I wanted to tell in the first place and by now, his toe is tapping and his face wears that "Oh god give me patience" look. So I only talk when it is absolutely necessary while he talks all day long. Every thought that passes through is head is voiced aloud while I remain gagged.
He's finally broken me. I had put up a good fight for some time but now I'm too weary to fight any longer.
I usually can find something funny in any situation, my bank robbery story, my childbirth tale and the rampaging pig can be hysterical. I've also lost my ability to find funny and I miss it. Instead I'm sad and scared.
What a pitiful lump I am. I think I shall fold mu tent now and steal quietly away.
Warning: This won't be light and frivolous. It will be pissing and moaning, however.
I am trying my best to hold onto my sanity. Sometimes I think that insanity is the way to go. Insanity to the point where you live in your own little world and the real world never intrudes.
Thanks to whomever put a freeze on foreclosure auctions our business is nearing collapse. We are getting NO new clients, there are still some foreclosures being filed but hardly any. No clients mean no new money and Christmas is coming. I thought we were going to have Christmas money this year but now, who knows. For once, I actually had a list of things that I wanted for Christmas which is a change from other years. Of course in past years there is no reason to make up a list if there is no Christmas.There really are no words to describe nothing on Christmas morning.
So why am I sharing my dirty laundry here, on a blog that anyone could read? It's simple. I have no one to talk to. No one at all. Yes I am married but the man doesn't listen. When i try to get his attention at work I get a dirty look, he throws down his pen, makes a show of turning to face me and barks "WHAT?". Well then, the words stick in my throat, that is if they even escape my whirling brain and I stutter and stammer and try so heard to get it all out before he finishes the sentence for me. The only problem with that is he never finishes it correctly and then I need to struggle with telling him all that I wanted to tell in the first place and by now, his toe is tapping and his face wears that "Oh god give me patience" look. So I only talk when it is absolutely necessary while he talks all day long. Every thought that passes through is head is voiced aloud while I remain gagged.
He's finally broken me. I had put up a good fight for some time but now I'm too weary to fight any longer.
I usually can find something funny in any situation, my bank robbery story, my childbirth tale and the rampaging pig can be hysterical. I've also lost my ability to find funny and I miss it. Instead I'm sad and scared.
What a pitiful lump I am. I think I shall fold mu tent now and steal quietly away.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Something I never thought I'd hear again
In an effort to make certain that we don't lose the house to foreclosure, the husband has decided to take out one of those old Fart reverse mortgage. That is if our first and second mortgages will accept short sales. With the climate of today's mortgage market, they just might.
Now, most days I feel as if I am older than dirt (thank you fibro myalgia). I've been married for far longer than I was single and remember such things as records, black and white TV's and no air conditioning, which meant that you couldn't buy Tastykakes peanut butter tandy takes in the summer because they would spoil in the heat. We had a client the other day who was BORN the year we were married. So far, however I have managed to miss most of the old fart pitfalls such as getting a man's haircut and wearing polyester pants with a shirt tucked in making it impossible for people to tell if I am make or female, standing in the middle of an aisle in a store with my mouth half open and such a blank look on my face that passerbys wonder if I had died in that spot and just forgotten to fall down not to mention CART LEANING! You've seen those people who practically lay across the handle and baby seat of their shopping cart as the inch along taking the aisle down the middle and only stopping when something else in the aisle prevents you from going around them. And here we thought Old Farts were clueless.
Back to the reverse mortgage. Mortgage guy came to fill out paperwork which took WAAAAAYYYYYYYY too long and required too much bull shitting on the husband's part and I had to sign a form that stated that Michael was taking out the reverse mortgage on his own because.... wait for it.... wait for it... I was TOO YOUNG! I'm guessing I'll never hear that again, so I'm savoring it while it lasts. ahhhhhhhhhh.
Now dag nabbit, I need me a cart to lean on.
Now, most days I feel as if I am older than dirt (thank you fibro myalgia). I've been married for far longer than I was single and remember such things as records, black and white TV's and no air conditioning, which meant that you couldn't buy Tastykakes peanut butter tandy takes in the summer because they would spoil in the heat. We had a client the other day who was BORN the year we were married. So far, however I have managed to miss most of the old fart pitfalls such as getting a man's haircut and wearing polyester pants with a shirt tucked in making it impossible for people to tell if I am make or female, standing in the middle of an aisle in a store with my mouth half open and such a blank look on my face that passerbys wonder if I had died in that spot and just forgotten to fall down not to mention CART LEANING! You've seen those people who practically lay across the handle and baby seat of their shopping cart as the inch along taking the aisle down the middle and only stopping when something else in the aisle prevents you from going around them. And here we thought Old Farts were clueless.
Back to the reverse mortgage. Mortgage guy came to fill out paperwork which took WAAAAAYYYYYYYY too long and required too much bull shitting on the husband's part and I had to sign a form that stated that Michael was taking out the reverse mortgage on his own because.... wait for it.... wait for it... I was TOO YOUNG! I'm guessing I'll never hear that again, so I'm savoring it while it lasts. ahhhhhhhhhh.
Now dag nabbit, I need me a cart to lean on.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Ohoh
First of all I was obsessed with winged things and now it's this 11:11 thing. The other night there was an avalanche in my craft room at... you got it... 11:11. I don't understand it. I don't know what it means and it is driving me crazy! I'm now starting to get paranoid and am checking the clocks all the time. I hate mysteries without an ending but what if I DO get and ending but don't know that it is the ENDING? I doubt my angels will supply fireworks or neon lights to let me know we have gotten to the end. I just wish I knew. Any clues?
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Project Runway
HUH? WHAT! Gretchen won. She of the one tone boring clothes. She won? Holy crap aneedies, I could do better than that. Have these people ever heard of COLOR?
Can you guess that Gretchen wasn't myfavorite. Too much of a bossy boots if you ask me of course it would have been worse had Ivy gotten far enough to win. She reminded me too much of the evil voodoo lady. They both had that same temperment and it had nothing to do with them being asian. If I don't like you, it's something you earned for yourself and not a circumstance of birth.
I do wish Mondo would have won. I do so like the geeky gay guys. Makes me want to invite them home and feed them.
But the most important question of all is....
NOw what am I going to watch on Thursdays?
Can you guess that Gretchen wasn't myfavorite. Too much of a bossy boots if you ask me of course it would have been worse had Ivy gotten far enough to win. She reminded me too much of the evil voodoo lady. They both had that same temperment and it had nothing to do with them being asian. If I don't like you, it's something you earned for yourself and not a circumstance of birth.
I do wish Mondo would have won. I do so like the geeky gay guys. Makes me want to invite them home and feed them.
But the most important question of all is....
NOw what am I going to watch on Thursdays?
So just TELL me already!
A couple of nights ago, while I was wandering through the living room on my way ot the kitchen for orange juice, I noticed that the time on the fios box read 11:11. I thought it rather odd and went my way. Then one morning I stumbled out of the bed room and into the living room to check the time and there is was 11:11. I thought "huh" and thought no more about it. Until the third time I saw the time as 11:11 on the living room box. By this time, it was starting to get weird and then, last night as I went into the craft room to turn off my desk lamp, I glanced up and..... you guessed it. 11:11.
OK. Now I'm spooked. First it was winged things and now this 11:11 stuff. So I googled it. yep you can google 11:11 and what did I learn? Angels. Yep. 11:11 is my angels ways of reminding me that they are there. At least that's what the site said. Angels or Spirit Guardians. It makes sense. I am a great believer in Angels and my family has a group of them that take good care of us. I am always talking to them, sometimes aloud, thanking them for all they do. I try not to ask too much. I rarely ask for a parking spot and occasionally I will ask them to help me find something as I start to rev myself up into the ridiculous OCD I develop when I'm looking for something that eludes. I don't ask for them to help me find the thing but, rather, keep me from jumping on the merry go round that speeds up in my head when frustrated. (I have even made a sort of shrine in a cigar box and whenever I take pictures of it, there are always orbs showing up in the picture. I can take pictures of the rest of the house but only get orbs around the shrine.
So. Angels. I'm now thinking that the winged things are being sent by my angels as well only I don't know WHY! 13 years in the library made me irritated with any unanswered questions. I want to know why and how and when and what color and all the rest. So what are the angels trying to tell me? Am I supposed to prepare myself for something and if so, what. Could they just send a note? Tie it to one of the winged things. I hate not knowing and what if I miss the whatever and not even recognize it? After all this buildup it would be a let down.
Still it is nice to know that the 'guys' are around. Good to know that I haven't chased them away with my constant needs.I hope they know how grateful I am for their constant care of me. I just wish I knew what it all meant.
Oh and the site is www.1111spiritguardians.com.
OK. Now I'm spooked. First it was winged things and now this 11:11 stuff. So I googled it. yep you can google 11:11 and what did I learn? Angels. Yep. 11:11 is my angels ways of reminding me that they are there. At least that's what the site said. Angels or Spirit Guardians. It makes sense. I am a great believer in Angels and my family has a group of them that take good care of us. I am always talking to them, sometimes aloud, thanking them for all they do. I try not to ask too much. I rarely ask for a parking spot and occasionally I will ask them to help me find something as I start to rev myself up into the ridiculous OCD I develop when I'm looking for something that eludes. I don't ask for them to help me find the thing but, rather, keep me from jumping on the merry go round that speeds up in my head when frustrated. (I have even made a sort of shrine in a cigar box and whenever I take pictures of it, there are always orbs showing up in the picture. I can take pictures of the rest of the house but only get orbs around the shrine.
So. Angels. I'm now thinking that the winged things are being sent by my angels as well only I don't know WHY! 13 years in the library made me irritated with any unanswered questions. I want to know why and how and when and what color and all the rest. So what are the angels trying to tell me? Am I supposed to prepare myself for something and if so, what. Could they just send a note? Tie it to one of the winged things. I hate not knowing and what if I miss the whatever and not even recognize it? After all this buildup it would be a let down.
Still it is nice to know that the 'guys' are around. Good to know that I haven't chased them away with my constant needs.I hope they know how grateful I am for their constant care of me. I just wish I knew what it all meant.
Oh and the site is www.1111spiritguardians.com.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
One of the benefits of growing old
I was in Michaels yesterday trying to destress from a rotten day in the office and I had a revelation. There I stood looking at aisles and piles of glittery, gooey Christmas ornaments, doo dads and what nots and realized that I don't have to do it anymore. i don't have to find just the right ornament for the tree or table top or door or dog. No siree, I have more ornaments et al than should be legal. Last count was 17 boxes and that's what is just in the attic. A place I no longer visit after I fell out of it one Christmas season.
An aside: Falling out of the attic, well really off the top of the ladder, I'd have to be an idiot to fall out of the big old square attic hole, taught me a several things 1: I really CAN'T fly no matter how many times I can in my dreams. 2: gravity IS really and truly stronger in the crap room (where the attic access is located) because it felt as if I was pulled off the ladder. C:I don't need to use ALL of the ornaments in the attic every year. $ While people feel badly for you when you fall out of or off, they really can't help chuckling because, damnit, it is funny to think of it. 5: And when your husband asks where you are when you fall, the answer isn't on the floor because... well.. see #1.
So I ave all of these ornaments and a small house and no longer the zest for all the hoo haw that goes along with Christmas. The sons are grown. Even when my mother was alive and my sister human (now she channels my mother and I'm STILL on the shit list) they never wanted to come to my house. Why? I suspect it's because we have.. glance over your shoulder, lower your voice to a whisper and say CHA_Nee-Nah's. Che-nee-nahs is a duck blood soup that looks nearly black in the bowl and despite the fact that the two whole houses in the neighborhood are African American and way down the street it still taints the air. Of course my mother was upset about the Greekan people who lived across the street from her house. I wonder what she'd say about the Asians across the street?
I'm rambling. I tend to do that when I have a captured audience.
Back to Christmas decorating... I don't have to do it! Stand up a tree, throw on the polymer clay ornaments, string lights and slap some wreathes on the wall and I'm set. So now I don't have to decided between this glittery bauble or that, or decided whether I want to spen $17 for a styrofoam cone covered with feathers, and will this break when someone knocks the tree over. Another Aside. We once lived in a small apartment whose stairs led up right from our own front door. I came home one day to find the Christmas tree at the bottom of the stairs. I dragged it back up, redecorated it and the next day it happened again. Did the drag decorate thing and this time I was around when the tree fall happened. Out cat would climb to the top of the tree, shake it till it fell over and then he'd ride the thing down the stairs. I moved the tree as far from the stairs as I could. Ha!
So no tree slides, no flipping baby Jesus... another aside but I won't go there and let the imagery haunt you... no coordinating colors, no theme. So with all of that off my mind I am free to obsess over other things. Too bad obsessing doesn't lead to weight loss. If it did, my weight would be in negative numbers.
An aside: Falling out of the attic, well really off the top of the ladder, I'd have to be an idiot to fall out of the big old square attic hole, taught me a several things 1: I really CAN'T fly no matter how many times I can in my dreams. 2: gravity IS really and truly stronger in the crap room (where the attic access is located) because it felt as if I was pulled off the ladder. C:I don't need to use ALL of the ornaments in the attic every year. $ While people feel badly for you when you fall out of or off, they really can't help chuckling because, damnit, it is funny to think of it. 5: And when your husband asks where you are when you fall, the answer isn't on the floor because... well.. see #1.
So I ave all of these ornaments and a small house and no longer the zest for all the hoo haw that goes along with Christmas. The sons are grown. Even when my mother was alive and my sister human (now she channels my mother and I'm STILL on the shit list) they never wanted to come to my house. Why? I suspect it's because we have.. glance over your shoulder, lower your voice to a whisper and say CHA_Nee-Nah's. Che-nee-nahs is a duck blood soup that looks nearly black in the bowl and despite the fact that the two whole houses in the neighborhood are African American and way down the street it still taints the air. Of course my mother was upset about the Greekan people who lived across the street from her house. I wonder what she'd say about the Asians across the street?
I'm rambling. I tend to do that when I have a captured audience.
Back to Christmas decorating... I don't have to do it! Stand up a tree, throw on the polymer clay ornaments, string lights and slap some wreathes on the wall and I'm set. So now I don't have to decided between this glittery bauble or that, or decided whether I want to spen $17 for a styrofoam cone covered with feathers, and will this break when someone knocks the tree over. Another Aside. We once lived in a small apartment whose stairs led up right from our own front door. I came home one day to find the Christmas tree at the bottom of the stairs. I dragged it back up, redecorated it and the next day it happened again. Did the drag decorate thing and this time I was around when the tree fall happened. Out cat would climb to the top of the tree, shake it till it fell over and then he'd ride the thing down the stairs. I moved the tree as far from the stairs as I could. Ha!
So no tree slides, no flipping baby Jesus... another aside but I won't go there and let the imagery haunt you... no coordinating colors, no theme. So with all of that off my mind I am free to obsess over other things. Too bad obsessing doesn't lead to weight loss. If it did, my weight would be in negative numbers.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Flights of Fancy
I often find myself going on flights of fancy. I figure since my train of thought often derails a flight of fancy makes sense and there is no check in bag charges.
So I decided to stop this AM for a Super Big Gulp at 7-11. As I stood thee with it in my hand, I wondered if I finished a whole Super Big Gulp would it give me super powers. However, with my luck I would end up with some nonsensical super power like Super Hairgrowing or House cleaning or SHUDDER Super Data Entry! Tah Dah!
Maybe I could live with it but now I'm thinking about my Super Hero costume. I'd have to settle on a color. I love yellow but it isn't a good color for me. Red is overused... thank you spider man et al. How about a teal? It would have to be a darkish color so it wouldn't show the dirt and Dark is slimming.
Speaking of slimming there's that whole one piece spandex costume which, I;m certain doesn't come with those belly/fanny ruffles you find on big ladies' bathing suits. A ruffle would just spoil the whole Super Hero look. I could probably work around the whole lumpy spandex look ---where's Austin Scarlet when you need him--- but I KNOW what would be my downfall... the &^@^$())*^ cape.
A cape, a long piece of fabric dragging on the ground, getting caught in car door and automatic doors and wrapping itself around my head when it's windy. I'd trip on it, or tear it and at the least drop food on it, though turning it around would make a handy old lady bib. So I think I'll skip the whole super hero thing. Will I still drink the Super Big Gulp with or without power? I'm guzzling it now. Burp
So I decided to stop this AM for a Super Big Gulp at 7-11. As I stood thee with it in my hand, I wondered if I finished a whole Super Big Gulp would it give me super powers. However, with my luck I would end up with some nonsensical super power like Super Hairgrowing or House cleaning or SHUDDER Super Data Entry! Tah Dah!
Maybe I could live with it but now I'm thinking about my Super Hero costume. I'd have to settle on a color. I love yellow but it isn't a good color for me. Red is overused... thank you spider man et al. How about a teal? It would have to be a darkish color so it wouldn't show the dirt and Dark is slimming.
Speaking of slimming there's that whole one piece spandex costume which, I;m certain doesn't come with those belly/fanny ruffles you find on big ladies' bathing suits. A ruffle would just spoil the whole Super Hero look. I could probably work around the whole lumpy spandex look ---where's Austin Scarlet when you need him--- but I KNOW what would be my downfall... the &^@^$())*^ cape.
A cape, a long piece of fabric dragging on the ground, getting caught in car door and automatic doors and wrapping itself around my head when it's windy. I'd trip on it, or tear it and at the least drop food on it, though turning it around would make a handy old lady bib. So I think I'll skip the whole super hero thing. Will I still drink the Super Big Gulp with or without power? I'm guzzling it now. Burp
Friday, October 8, 2010
This and That or That and This
It's been a week here at the Insane Asylum. Ooops. Did I say that out loud? Ahem, At the Office. Long hours, rushed clients, and tears. Usually mine because it can be damned depressing dealing with people who are losing their home. And then I was worried because Rocco the Wonder Dog was Rocco the Limping dog. But last night he was back to all four feet and i knew he was feeling good because he was barking again at every little sound.. It is his job, you know, to keep us safe from the UPS guy and little kids on their bikes. I wonder what he'd do if he spotted a UPS guy ON a bike. I'm guessing Rocco's head would explode. Then I hear that the major mortgage companies may be freezing foreclosures which could mean the death of our company but we made money this week and I am doing my best to ignore the maybe impending doom.
So the week is nearly over and out clients have left and if I can get Michael to make the calls he has to we may be able to cut out of here early. I always find myself anxious to gt home and squirrel myself away in my crap room. Glitter and glue and feathers and clay and paper always make me feel better.
And speaking of better. I am one of those people who are always in pain. I mean I have a toe that lets me know when a storm is brewing and knees that predict just plain old rain. My thumb aches with on coming snow and a hip that kills me just because it can. I swear my body has a mind of it's own. Otherwise why would my collar bone ache and my eyebrows hurt? So last Saturday we went to the Fells Point Festival and there was a guy selling these magnetic bracelets that were supposed to help with whatever it was that ails you. Now I have never believed in that hoo haw but Michael was suddenly pushing me to spend what I thought was way too much money for magnets stuck together. Sometimes it's just easier to give in, so i did. Yes, I GAVE IN! Out of character, I know, but blame Tim Gunn's book.
So there I was the proud owner of a magnetic bracelet strong enough to stick me to the space shuttle when, by the end of the block at Fell's point the hip that has been hurting for a decade was silenced. Holy mackanolly! No hip pain AND i actually seem to have a bit more energy. My dreams are more vivid and my eyebrows are behaving. It could be that magnets work or it could just be the placebo effect and I think I don't hurt but either way my hip no longer hurts! Oh and I tried going to sleep without the bracelet and the hip pain woke me. Bracelet back on and yowza! Pain gone again.
But the best part is when I lose my keys in the office or they fall out of my hand, the bracelet is always there to grab hold. So what if I set off the walk out of the door alarm at Wal-Mart. Gotta give those greeters something to so.
So the week is nearly over and out clients have left and if I can get Michael to make the calls he has to we may be able to cut out of here early. I always find myself anxious to gt home and squirrel myself away in my crap room. Glitter and glue and feathers and clay and paper always make me feel better.
And speaking of better. I am one of those people who are always in pain. I mean I have a toe that lets me know when a storm is brewing and knees that predict just plain old rain. My thumb aches with on coming snow and a hip that kills me just because it can. I swear my body has a mind of it's own. Otherwise why would my collar bone ache and my eyebrows hurt? So last Saturday we went to the Fells Point Festival and there was a guy selling these magnetic bracelets that were supposed to help with whatever it was that ails you. Now I have never believed in that hoo haw but Michael was suddenly pushing me to spend what I thought was way too much money for magnets stuck together. Sometimes it's just easier to give in, so i did. Yes, I GAVE IN! Out of character, I know, but blame Tim Gunn's book.
So there I was the proud owner of a magnetic bracelet strong enough to stick me to the space shuttle when, by the end of the block at Fell's point the hip that has been hurting for a decade was silenced. Holy mackanolly! No hip pain AND i actually seem to have a bit more energy. My dreams are more vivid and my eyebrows are behaving. It could be that magnets work or it could just be the placebo effect and I think I don't hurt but either way my hip no longer hurts! Oh and I tried going to sleep without the bracelet and the hip pain woke me. Bracelet back on and yowza! Pain gone again.
But the best part is when I lose my keys in the office or they fall out of my hand, the bracelet is always there to grab hold. So what if I set off the walk out of the door alarm at Wal-Mart. Gotta give those greeters something to so.
Friday, October 1, 2010
I love Project Runway
I love Project Runway. Yes, it does deserve to be repeated. I love the creativity even if some of the designers drive me crazy, and the crazy personalities though I must admit that, at, times, I'm glad I'm not around said crazy personality. One nut in a room is enough. But most of all what I love about Project Runway is Tim Gunn. Yes, the pale man in the impeccable suit. He is what was once referred to as a gentleman and in this day in age when reality shows have house wives at each other's throats and house mates calling each other bitches, it is such a pleasure to watch, a gentleman. Even when he's ticked at someone, Kenley and Gretchen come to mind, he is still a gentleman who doesn't even raise his voice.
I had always wanted to have lunch with Dave Barry figuring he would be so funny that I could actually squirt soda out of my nose during a laugh but I've changed my mind. I would rather have lunch with Tim Gunn and bask in his.. gentleness.
I think Gentleness is missing in the world. The kind of gentleness that makes you hold your tounge instead of shrieking at someone that they are a stinking scum bag and should die. A murmured "A pox on you" should work just as well, or nothing at all but it is hard to turn away when attacked and pox does come in handy.
One winter day when the kids were in the yard the older one came in to tell me that a big boy on a motor cycle was driving up and down the street and cussing at them each time he passed, using the forbidden F word. Now I could have gone out and ripped the guy a new one but what would that solve. Instead I told my 7 year old son that he should feel sorry for the big boy who doesn't know any words with more than four letters in them. Josh nodded wisely, went back outside and when the big boy tried this again, Josh told him how sorry he was that the big boy only knew 4 letter words and the cussing stopped.
I am happy to say that both sons are gentlemen. I cannot take all the credit for their father is a gentleman as well and I see much of him in them. A gentleman looks after family and friends and helps others without expecting anything in return.
I am very proud of Casey and his behavior one vacation when he heard a guy and a girl arguing and the guy trying to hustle her off the board walk. Casey stood and watched gauging the situation and as the guy pulled the girl down the ramp Casey went after them, Michael followed.
It was just an argument and the girl said she didn't need any help so my men turned around, came back upon the boardwalk and we went our way as if nothing extraordinary had happened. But it had, gentlemen at work. How often do we see that.
And Maybe, just maybe, I love Tim Gunn because I see my men in him and I love them to death.
Someday I hope to live up to their example and become a lady but I have my doubts. Sometimes I just enjoy being rotten.
I had always wanted to have lunch with Dave Barry figuring he would be so funny that I could actually squirt soda out of my nose during a laugh but I've changed my mind. I would rather have lunch with Tim Gunn and bask in his.. gentleness.
I think Gentleness is missing in the world. The kind of gentleness that makes you hold your tounge instead of shrieking at someone that they are a stinking scum bag and should die. A murmured "A pox on you" should work just as well, or nothing at all but it is hard to turn away when attacked and pox does come in handy.
One winter day when the kids were in the yard the older one came in to tell me that a big boy on a motor cycle was driving up and down the street and cussing at them each time he passed, using the forbidden F word. Now I could have gone out and ripped the guy a new one but what would that solve. Instead I told my 7 year old son that he should feel sorry for the big boy who doesn't know any words with more than four letters in them. Josh nodded wisely, went back outside and when the big boy tried this again, Josh told him how sorry he was that the big boy only knew 4 letter words and the cussing stopped.
I am happy to say that both sons are gentlemen. I cannot take all the credit for their father is a gentleman as well and I see much of him in them. A gentleman looks after family and friends and helps others without expecting anything in return.
I am very proud of Casey and his behavior one vacation when he heard a guy and a girl arguing and the guy trying to hustle her off the board walk. Casey stood and watched gauging the situation and as the guy pulled the girl down the ramp Casey went after them, Michael followed.
It was just an argument and the girl said she didn't need any help so my men turned around, came back upon the boardwalk and we went our way as if nothing extraordinary had happened. But it had, gentlemen at work. How often do we see that.
And Maybe, just maybe, I love Tim Gunn because I see my men in him and I love them to death.
Someday I hope to live up to their example and become a lady but I have my doubts. Sometimes I just enjoy being rotten.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
The body of a goddess
I discovered the other day that I have the body of a goddess. Granted that this particular goddess is the Venus of Upsidoodle, or wumdeedoodle or whoopedeede... oh what the heck let me google it.
Ok the Venus of Willendorf.
Anyway there I was in my goddess body feeling all benevolent and goddessy when the narrator of the show started using terms like grotesque and a human body never looks like this particular venus. Still it is a goddess and so I have the body of a goddess and the maturity of a three year old. Guess we can't have everything.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Winged thing
Bird on the windowsill at the office again today, so on that theme here is my owl paper doll.
If I can manage to add an image and not screw it up too badly.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Hootchie and the Ghinese Buffet
I don't know what it is that made me notice her first. I think it was the man's straw fedora stuck to the back of her head, and I do mean stuck for the hat was actually vertical to the ground and i doubt that there was a force of nature at work. As she was being led to a table the world got a look at her shorts cut up to her cootchie and her unfettered breasts that dipped and swayed and jiggled and bounced but what had to be the topper was the black rubber RAIN BOOTS she wore with the outfit.
See Hootchie and her cootchie skimming shorts once was enough but I swear for the first fiftenn minutes of so the woman never put her butt in the chair as she strode back and forth from table to buffet and back again as the shorts rode higher and the 'girls' jiggled and wiggled and the boots made those sucking rain boot sounds that they are known to make. Back and forth and forth and back while the husband and I were on Hootchie alert and laughing so hard we nearly shot soup out of our noses.
You see, Hootchie thought she was all of that and a bucket of shrimp as she strode about oblivious to the startled look and head shaking that accompanied her and her slubbery boots. She threw her shoulders back that sent the 'girls' into a frenzy and those shorts to creep up even more. Personally I have never seen denim shorts turn themselves into a thong while being worn and I wish I could go to my grave still never seeing a sight. But it was those boots that did me in. Rain boots, inside, worn as fashion.
And I thought I was fashion challenged. At least my cootchie does not play peek a boo and my hats are worn on top of my head and my rain boots are bright pink iwth paisley designs.
Sideways thought. I once dressed up as a fshion disaster for Halloween at the library and nobody noticed. Make what you want from that. I even made earrings out of those plastic monkeys in that barrel games and wore wildly patterned leggins along with the rest of the outfit and people took it for normal. Still Hootchie Cootchi had me beat.
See Hootchie and her cootchie skimming shorts once was enough but I swear for the first fiftenn minutes of so the woman never put her butt in the chair as she strode back and forth from table to buffet and back again as the shorts rode higher and the 'girls' jiggled and wiggled and the boots made those sucking rain boot sounds that they are known to make. Back and forth and forth and back while the husband and I were on Hootchie alert and laughing so hard we nearly shot soup out of our noses.
You see, Hootchie thought she was all of that and a bucket of shrimp as she strode about oblivious to the startled look and head shaking that accompanied her and her slubbery boots. She threw her shoulders back that sent the 'girls' into a frenzy and those shorts to creep up even more. Personally I have never seen denim shorts turn themselves into a thong while being worn and I wish I could go to my grave still never seeing a sight. But it was those boots that did me in. Rain boots, inside, worn as fashion.
And I thought I was fashion challenged. At least my cootchie does not play peek a boo and my hats are worn on top of my head and my rain boots are bright pink iwth paisley designs.
Sideways thought. I once dressed up as a fshion disaster for Halloween at the library and nobody noticed. Make what you want from that. I even made earrings out of those plastic monkeys in that barrel games and wore wildly patterned leggins along with the rest of the outfit and people took it for normal. Still Hootchie Cootchi had me beat.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
scritch scritch
So there I sit at my work desk, being quiet and getting work done and for once the husband is quiet too and I hear a scritch scritch kind of sound. I look about, at first thinking this whole winged thing is starting up again and doesn't a bird at the window means something dire? No bird. So then I'm thinking maybe my chair is brushing against the trash can and rustling the bag in the can. So I move the can, twice and still scritch scritch. All the while the husband says he hears nothing. But thee's that scritch scritch. So I tell the 'voices' if they are making that sound they better stop or I'll sic Rocco on them. Yes, I do talk to thin air. The voices don't answer and the scrtch scritch sounds again. Then, as I'm questioning my sanity I turn around once more and see the rim of the paper bag in the husband's trash can moving, undulating actually and as i look closer I see a small hand....
AH HA! We have captured the peanut butter cup mouse thief and he, she is in the trash can. Since the husband just PUT a bag IN the can I wonder how he missed seeing the mouse but the husband is not the most observant soul in the world.
Anyway, Mr or Ms Mouse and i head for downstairs where I let him out, outside, where a mouse can run free.
You didn't think I'd kill it do you.
In fact, the husband was talking about where was the best place for a mouse trap to be where I wouldn't see it in the morning and I said a silent prayer that is wouldn't come to that. Ah ha! Now we don't have to kill the blighter.
I'm ignoring the whole fact of when you see one mouse there are probably more. Let me live with my illusion please>
AH HA! We have captured the peanut butter cup mouse thief and he, she is in the trash can. Since the husband just PUT a bag IN the can I wonder how he missed seeing the mouse but the husband is not the most observant soul in the world.
Anyway, Mr or Ms Mouse and i head for downstairs where I let him out, outside, where a mouse can run free.
You didn't think I'd kill it do you.
In fact, the husband was talking about where was the best place for a mouse trap to be where I wouldn't see it in the morning and I said a silent prayer that is wouldn't come to that. Ah ha! Now we don't have to kill the blighter.
I'm ignoring the whole fact of when you see one mouse there are probably more. Let me live with my illusion please>
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Afterthought
Michael is going to court on Thursday. This is because the window smashing knucklehead is dragging his butt into court because Michael would only pay what the guy quoted and not the bill the guy presented. I went through all of this in another post. ANYHOW... Michael talked to his property manager about this. Seems the PM is familiar with the judge who will rip knucklehead a new one. Not only is knucklehead NOT licensed, he claims to be on his website (yes we printed out a copy of that page)but he has lost his "doing business" name AND doing home repairs without a license is a criminal offense. AND the judge will probably make the knucklehead pay back what Michael already paid him for the work he did. We don't necessarily want the money back, it was what the guy quoted him and the guy did do the work.
I hope this doesn't start the whole window smashing crap again.
He has a trial date for a really serious matter... felony in fact, so I'm hoping the trial will follow this pay me the money case, close enough that he won't drive the hour and a half to smash windows again.
Younever know WHAT a knucklehead will do.
I hope this doesn't start the whole window smashing crap again.
He has a trial date for a really serious matter... felony in fact, so I'm hoping the trial will follow this pay me the money case, close enough that he won't drive the hour and a half to smash windows again.
Younever know WHAT a knucklehead will do.
A sight to see
An Oddz Bodkinz sight this morning.
Big manly men, in tattoos and hardhats, working with jackhammers and reels of cable, big burly manly men with a pretty flowered umbrella overhead to keep the sun off their heads. What? They didn't ave one with stripes?
Big manly men, in tattoos and hardhats, working with jackhammers and reels of cable, big burly manly men with a pretty flowered umbrella overhead to keep the sun off their heads. What? They didn't ave one with stripes?
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Stuff, stuff and more stuff
Winged things are driving me crazy! There have been dragon flies, 3 in fact in 3 totally separate places. Butterflies where there wasn't butterflies even when I planted plants that were supposed to draw them. One bird sitting in the middle of a shouse plant at Home Depot... a bird, may I add that just sat there looking at me. Then the bird tap tapping on the office window. Happened once, never again. ANother dragonfly and this evening these weird pink bugs flitting around the plants on y desk in the crap room.
Oooh whoop de doodle you may say. Pink bugs? Excuse me, have you ever heard of ah hem lady bugs.
These bugs ain't no lady. They are small and so flourescently pink that you would have thought I chased after your common variety gnat and painted it pink. That kind of pink, ust sipping about except when it hovers in front of my face. I think something somewhere is trying to tell me something if only I knew what!
Would it be so hard for one of these winged things to drop me a note and give me a clue? I see the signs, I just don't understand them.
So I have done what any Oddz Bodkinz would do and am going along with the winged flow. I've been making owls out of polymer clay. Not real owlish looking owls, unless owls are now chartreuse and yellow or shades of blue and, occasinally wear a top hat tilted to one side. I have a whole flock of the just sitting around waitng for something.
Last Friday I was in Michaels and discovered that in the 10 for $10 shalves that Michaels is now offering small bird cages in a variety of colors. So I was sorting through them wondering if I wanted just one or, even more sensible, one of each color when a woman asked what was I going to do with the cages, I mumbled something about owls and the next thing I know, she gives e her card and tells me to stop by her office because she wants to buy some of my owls. Huh? What? She hadn't even seen them! I may have to corrall one of the men to have him help me with photos of the owls which I will then EMAIL to her instead of just showing up at her office with a box of owls.
Then there's that whold pricing thing...sigh... seems like a lot of work.
On another note. Casey's on again, off again, on again home buying is on again. If something is this hard, maybe it isn't meant to be.
And now gossip. Voodoo woman who used to work for the husband... see the me and the men blog... has surfaced again. And then I made a mistake and we may never be rid of her. When we last left her she had been thrown out of a homeless shelter and had a boyfriend that she met IN the shelter and they were living together. The latest is that they are homeless again and living in her car, that has no insurance and that the rep men are looking for. The boyfriend won't apply for unemployment because he is too proud so they live on $100 a week... in a car. So what do I do? I suggest that instead of sending our donation to Feed the Children or Animal Rescue, we give it to evil voo doo woman so she and the proud boyfriend can get a roo for the night. That why they could shower and sleep in a bed.
The husband liked the idea and Sunday drove the money over to them for the hotel AND took them out to dinner at a chinese buffet. HUsband was under strict orders to keep quiet about the fact that this was my idea.
Someone should smack me upside the head. She called husband today to tell him that the cops took her license plates and she needs money to get the car towed to.... where I do not know. Over the past couple of years she has 'borrowed'in excess of $2,500.00. Money we could have used to pay our own mortgage. So now the blood sucking is starting again because I was a fool and felt sorry for her. After all I do have her job... tho I am much better at it than she ever was
I must admit that she was right about one thing. That there are ghosts in the office. Not that I've seen anything, mind you. I've only heard voices, and yes, I am on my meds. I actually have a reliable source who takes no meds... Rocco the Wonder Dog (you can skip this part if you know about it) Seems I had to go back to the office one night for something and decided since Rocco loves going anywhere in the car, even if it is around the block, that I would take him with me. He did fine going in, climbing three flights of stairs but I couldn't get him settled in the office while I did what I had to do. Then it was time to come home but he refused, absolutely, positively refused to even get NEAR the top of the steps. (we have steps at home so he knows steps) I pulled, I pushed, I begged, I yelled, I yanked, I shoved, I swore, I grunted but he flat out refused to budge. For a while there I though he had put down roots and would NEVER move. So I did what any sensible person would do and called Josh. Ta ta ta ta ta TAH! Josh got into the other car and came into the office, climbed the stairs and through the Magic that is Josh's alone, somehow managed to coax Rocco down the stairs.
Now, to show just how Oddz Bokinz we all are, as he and Rocco reached the bottom floor, Josh blithely told me that Rocco didn't like the thing at the top of the stairs but he did pass it and made his way down the steps, hugging the wall as tightly as he could and staying away from the thing at the top of the stairs. I've only heard what I call the voices while the husband tells me I'm imagining things. I don't think that dogs have imaginations.
Needless to say, Rocco won't be going into the office with me any time soon. And to think, I had been planning on teaching him data entry even tho he has no thumbs.
As for me, I bought one of those magnetic bracelet things that are supposed to center you so you don't tip over. I tend to tip quite a bit, gravity don't you know. The bane of my existance. So I was wearing it ($1 on ebay) and decided that it wasn't doing anything an took it off. It could be just a co-incidence but I took it off Saturday night, was barely able to make it out of bed Sunday day and when I did get out of bed I was up for about three hours before I climbed back into bed and slept 19 hours straight and when I woke I was lightheaded and dizzy and tipped over a lot. So I put the bracelet back on and feel better. So maybe the bracelet does work or, just maybe, gravity is on vacation.
And I should be abed. NIte!
Oh and I fixed the weird title in Hindi thing though I have no idea how it got to be hindi. Winged things> Of maybe it was gravity. Yep liets blame it on gravity.
Oooh whoop de doodle you may say. Pink bugs? Excuse me, have you ever heard of ah hem lady bugs.
These bugs ain't no lady. They are small and so flourescently pink that you would have thought I chased after your common variety gnat and painted it pink. That kind of pink, ust sipping about except when it hovers in front of my face. I think something somewhere is trying to tell me something if only I knew what!
Would it be so hard for one of these winged things to drop me a note and give me a clue? I see the signs, I just don't understand them.
So I have done what any Oddz Bodkinz would do and am going along with the winged flow. I've been making owls out of polymer clay. Not real owlish looking owls, unless owls are now chartreuse and yellow or shades of blue and, occasinally wear a top hat tilted to one side. I have a whole flock of the just sitting around waitng for something.
Last Friday I was in Michaels and discovered that in the 10 for $10 shalves that Michaels is now offering small bird cages in a variety of colors. So I was sorting through them wondering if I wanted just one or, even more sensible, one of each color when a woman asked what was I going to do with the cages, I mumbled something about owls and the next thing I know, she gives e her card and tells me to stop by her office because she wants to buy some of my owls. Huh? What? She hadn't even seen them! I may have to corrall one of the men to have him help me with photos of the owls which I will then EMAIL to her instead of just showing up at her office with a box of owls.
Then there's that whold pricing thing...sigh... seems like a lot of work.
On another note. Casey's on again, off again, on again home buying is on again. If something is this hard, maybe it isn't meant to be.
And now gossip. Voodoo woman who used to work for the husband... see the me and the men blog... has surfaced again. And then I made a mistake and we may never be rid of her. When we last left her she had been thrown out of a homeless shelter and had a boyfriend that she met IN the shelter and they were living together. The latest is that they are homeless again and living in her car, that has no insurance and that the rep men are looking for. The boyfriend won't apply for unemployment because he is too proud so they live on $100 a week... in a car. So what do I do? I suggest that instead of sending our donation to Feed the Children or Animal Rescue, we give it to evil voo doo woman so she and the proud boyfriend can get a roo for the night. That why they could shower and sleep in a bed.
The husband liked the idea and Sunday drove the money over to them for the hotel AND took them out to dinner at a chinese buffet. HUsband was under strict orders to keep quiet about the fact that this was my idea.
Someone should smack me upside the head. She called husband today to tell him that the cops took her license plates and she needs money to get the car towed to.... where I do not know. Over the past couple of years she has 'borrowed'in excess of $2,500.00. Money we could have used to pay our own mortgage. So now the blood sucking is starting again because I was a fool and felt sorry for her. After all I do have her job... tho I am much better at it than she ever was
I must admit that she was right about one thing. That there are ghosts in the office. Not that I've seen anything, mind you. I've only heard voices, and yes, I am on my meds. I actually have a reliable source who takes no meds... Rocco the Wonder Dog (you can skip this part if you know about it) Seems I had to go back to the office one night for something and decided since Rocco loves going anywhere in the car, even if it is around the block, that I would take him with me. He did fine going in, climbing three flights of stairs but I couldn't get him settled in the office while I did what I had to do. Then it was time to come home but he refused, absolutely, positively refused to even get NEAR the top of the steps. (we have steps at home so he knows steps) I pulled, I pushed, I begged, I yelled, I yanked, I shoved, I swore, I grunted but he flat out refused to budge. For a while there I though he had put down roots and would NEVER move. So I did what any sensible person would do and called Josh. Ta ta ta ta ta TAH! Josh got into the other car and came into the office, climbed the stairs and through the Magic that is Josh's alone, somehow managed to coax Rocco down the stairs.
Now, to show just how Oddz Bokinz we all are, as he and Rocco reached the bottom floor, Josh blithely told me that Rocco didn't like the thing at the top of the stairs but he did pass it and made his way down the steps, hugging the wall as tightly as he could and staying away from the thing at the top of the stairs. I've only heard what I call the voices while the husband tells me I'm imagining things. I don't think that dogs have imaginations.
Needless to say, Rocco won't be going into the office with me any time soon. And to think, I had been planning on teaching him data entry even tho he has no thumbs.
As for me, I bought one of those magnetic bracelet things that are supposed to center you so you don't tip over. I tend to tip quite a bit, gravity don't you know. The bane of my existance. So I was wearing it ($1 on ebay) and decided that it wasn't doing anything an took it off. It could be just a co-incidence but I took it off Saturday night, was barely able to make it out of bed Sunday day and when I did get out of bed I was up for about three hours before I climbed back into bed and slept 19 hours straight and when I woke I was lightheaded and dizzy and tipped over a lot. So I put the bracelet back on and feel better. So maybe the bracelet does work or, just maybe, gravity is on vacation.
And I should be abed. NIte!
Oh and I fixed the weird title in Hindi thing though I have no idea how it got to be hindi. Winged things> Of maybe it was gravity. Yep liets blame it on gravity.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
इ मुस्त बे crazy
Two years ago a knucklehead was terrorizing the husband. Seems that the Knucklehead did work on some investment houses that the husband no longer owns and charged 3 times the quoted amount. Quoted as in never giving a written quote. Husband paid the quoted amount and Knucklehead decided to get his payment by smashing the windows... yes plural.. of the husband's car and nearly knocking the Husband over in the process. Knucklehead was 20 something and the husband was nearing 60.
Threats were made, court was a waste of time. The judge was an idiot.
Fast forward. Now the Knucklehead is taking the husband to court for the money owed. At least the Knucklehead says is owed. So husband called our real estate attorney and whooooo mama did we learn a lot.
We'll disregard the fact that it wasn't a written estimate or that Knucklehead didn't call when he realised the job was going to cost more than the quote. It's even better than that.
Seems that the Knucklehead is not licensed by the state to do the work that he does.
On his business home page he claims to be licensed and insured but there is no license number noted.
Knucklehead was Doing Business As (insert business name which I won't) BUT that has expired and taken away from him.
You cannot collect money for a job is you are not licensed and he may have to pay back the amount the Husband already paid him.
And the business can be shut down.
Plus he may have to refile in another county that actually has something to do with the case. He verbally contracted the job with the husband in our home county. The work was done in a second county and he resides in a third county which is where he filed. So a letter will be sent to the court from us requesting a change of venue which will just postpone things even more.
Then I did some checking AND it seems the Knucklehead and a buddy were charged with a felony over deer hunting when they shouldn't have been deer hunting and even worse, stolen property was found on the Knucklehead's property when they went to arrest him. He requested a jury trial and faces 17 years in jail AND some god awful fine.
And
I FEEL SORRY FOR HIM!
What the hell is the matter with me?
Threats were made, court was a waste of time. The judge was an idiot.
Fast forward. Now the Knucklehead is taking the husband to court for the money owed. At least the Knucklehead says is owed. So husband called our real estate attorney and whooooo mama did we learn a lot.
We'll disregard the fact that it wasn't a written estimate or that Knucklehead didn't call when he realised the job was going to cost more than the quote. It's even better than that.
Seems that the Knucklehead is not licensed by the state to do the work that he does.
On his business home page he claims to be licensed and insured but there is no license number noted.
Knucklehead was Doing Business As (insert business name which I won't) BUT that has expired and taken away from him.
You cannot collect money for a job is you are not licensed and he may have to pay back the amount the Husband already paid him.
And the business can be shut down.
Plus he may have to refile in another county that actually has something to do with the case. He verbally contracted the job with the husband in our home county. The work was done in a second county and he resides in a third county which is where he filed. So a letter will be sent to the court from us requesting a change of venue which will just postpone things even more.
Then I did some checking AND it seems the Knucklehead and a buddy were charged with a felony over deer hunting when they shouldn't have been deer hunting and even worse, stolen property was found on the Knucklehead's property when they went to arrest him. He requested a jury trial and faces 17 years in jail AND some god awful fine.
And
I FEEL SORRY FOR HIM!
What the hell is the matter with me?
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Oddz Bodkinz, my life in words and maybe pictures
I wanted a blog where I felt no restraints of any kind. I've gotten sick of people telling me that I am better than something, or people expecting so much from me without giving in return. You can tell a true friend by how hard they fight to remain a friend instead of dropping off the face of the earth without a word.
More importantly why OddzBodkinz?
It's simple. I live an Oddz Bodkinz sort of life. A life where things happen that wouldn't happen to normal people, or if it did, they wouldn't announce it to the world but tuck it in their soul and hide it away.
What things, you might say, tell me more, tell me more.
Who cares, you might say. You have a life. Big deal.
An Oddz Bodkinz happenings are bank robberies, child birth, pigs, and any happenstance that zags when it should have zigged and, since this is my blog, I get to decide what's Oddz Bodkinz and what is not.
That being said.... let's begin.
Watching TV the other night and they had a commercial on for a car... the new Volkswagon TAPEWORM. Ok so it was supposed to be Tiburon but I heard tapeworm. Imagine a tapeworm car. Sort of like a stretch limousine without the class... and matching doors. The new volkswagon Tapeworm would have its bumper duct taped on and a bobble head of some obscure semi-celebrity on the dash board. In a Volkswagon Tapeworm, don't expect a mini bar... more like a styrofam cooler with a chipped lid and store brand sodas inside... warm soda.
And on that thread what is next? The Chevy leprosy where parts fall off? Whre's that duct tape when you need it?
More importantly why OddzBodkinz?
It's simple. I live an Oddz Bodkinz sort of life. A life where things happen that wouldn't happen to normal people, or if it did, they wouldn't announce it to the world but tuck it in their soul and hide it away.
What things, you might say, tell me more, tell me more.
Who cares, you might say. You have a life. Big deal.
An Oddz Bodkinz happenings are bank robberies, child birth, pigs, and any happenstance that zags when it should have zigged and, since this is my blog, I get to decide what's Oddz Bodkinz and what is not.
That being said.... let's begin.
Watching TV the other night and they had a commercial on for a car... the new Volkswagon TAPEWORM. Ok so it was supposed to be Tiburon but I heard tapeworm. Imagine a tapeworm car. Sort of like a stretch limousine without the class... and matching doors. The new volkswagon Tapeworm would have its bumper duct taped on and a bobble head of some obscure semi-celebrity on the dash board. In a Volkswagon Tapeworm, don't expect a mini bar... more like a styrofam cooler with a chipped lid and store brand sodas inside... warm soda.
And on that thread what is next? The Chevy leprosy where parts fall off? Whre's that duct tape when you need it?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)