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28th-Feb-2010 05:43 pm - A summary of my week
Here's a short pictrial guid to how my week has gone so far. i reserve tthe right to deny any allegations about my vicodin induced behavior later.

To sum up, I had an emergency appendectomy this week and now I'm at home higher than a kite on painkillers. Wee!
I stole this idea shamelessly from Werthead, but if you'd like to show your support for HBO picking up the series, you can become a fan of HBO's Facebook Profile, and then comment on This Photo of the GoT cast with your support. Woo!

/winter is coming
8th-Jan-2010 06:20 pm - Being broke is a fashion statement
Ok, so it's come to my attention that there is a group of people out there called "hipsters" that live for the scene, and a lot of people that hate them and all they stand for. How I managed to stay ignorant of this phenomena this long, I don't know. (Maybe the rock called Texas that I live under has something to do with it).

What I'm concerned about: I used to drink PBR, buy my clothes at Goodwill, cut my own hair, ride a touring bike and smoke Parliaments for one very good reason: I was a broke motherfucker. I certainly didn't know there was a "scene" that I was part of. So, when I was wearing my ratty-ass Chiefs sweatshirt and re-rolling the tobacco left over from my Parliament butts, was I a hipster? I wouldn't have given a shit one way or another what people thought of me (and still don't), but I'm curious as to thoughts on this.

Is a true hipster somebody that puts forward the appearance they're broke, when they aren't? If so, should people blindly hate "hipsters" without knowing if they're really broke or not? Also, what's with this: "a hipster will always deny being a hipster"....buh... is anybody else forcibly reminded of McCarthy (albeit on a more ridiculous silly scale). Anyway, the whole thing makes me *headdesk* and I'm wondering what everybody else thinks.
26th-Dec-2009 01:44 pm - Annnnnnd back to the grind.
Given that I don't work regular hours (my regular hours being 7 days a week, 7 am to something like midnight), I guess I shouldn't be surprised that my clients are already emailing me with shit they want done like Yesterday, but still, it's the day after Xmas, I'm lazy, and the whole idea of *omgworkworkwork* makes me want to headdesk.
25th-Dec-2009 01:41 pm - Holiday Cheer and Stuff.
Merry whatever you might celebrate or not, everybody! The kiddo got some good loot this morning; now we're chilling while she naps. Travis is watching "Mr. Hankie, the Christmas Poo" and other holiday classics on YouTube, I'm digesting spaghetti in preparation for giganto meal at mother's in a few hours. To be followed shortly after by the Airing of Grievances and Feats of Strength, I'm sure. Woo!
4th-Dec-2009 11:00 pm - Dear Travis' Cat.
Dear Mr. Fister--

I know you don't like me. Never mind that your daddy ignores you half the time, when I'm always willing to give you a rub. I know you love him and just tolerate me. I've accepted it and deal with it. But I swear, if you keep leaving little tiny pieces of litter on only MY half of the bed, I am gonna hide ALL your jingle ball toys. Every last maddeningly jingly one of them. So, next time you wanna torture mommy cause you know I put up with it...decide if it's really worth it.

I still love you, even though you're being a jerk!
25th-Apr-2009 03:30 pm - Squirrel Saga, Part Deux.
So, as I mentioned in my last post, we still had a little critter left in the attic. Travis slept in yesterday, and so my repeated attempts to wake him up to stick the live trap in the attic were for naught. However, he got rudely awoken a couple of hours later because of his laziness, so I won't gloat too much. (ha, ha!)

About noon or so, I hear a racket in the kitchen again. I assumed it was Mr. Fister freaking out at the window at a squirrel outside (or a bird, or a bug, or a cloud, or anything else his crazy little kitty mind takes a shine to). When the noises continued for several minutes, I finally got up and went to see what the cat was doing. To my dismay, I discovered the noise was coming from the vent hood above our stove.

The people who built our house were definitely not the most competent builders. There are many other tales of WTFery we have discovered as we have been remodeling, but for now I will just relate this one quirk. Instead of venting the stove hood thing with a pipe going up through the roof, our's is just a hollow rectangular box of wood going up the wall from the hood and into the attic, where it ends flush with the attic floor. In essence, a large hole in the attic for anything to crawl down if it so chooses.

Well, apparently one of the squirrel babies made that choice unwisely. The box that forms the vent is smooth wood and about 3 inches deep by 6 or 7 inches wide. This meant that once our squirrel buddy (hereforth referred to as SB) fell down the hole, it was too big for him to crawl back up. So now he was inside our range hood, in the cavity above where the fan and light are. He continued to make a bunch of racket, and since I didn't know what to do, I just waited for the noise to wake Travis up. Did I mention that the range hood shares a wall with our bedroom? And the wall in question is where the headboard of our bed is currently placed? So I knew it would only be a matter of time before Travis would storm out, demanding what woke him up.

True to form, he appeared about two minutes later. Bleary-eyed and cranky, he grunted when I showed him the squirrel. You could see SB's little beady eyes if you looked through the slots above the switches to turn on the fan and light. To prevent any nasty unpleasantness, we had the foresight to unplug the hood.

Now, how to get the bugger out? I had an idea involving the cat carrier, which Travis scoffed at. Instead, his bright idea was to go in the attic with a 1x4 we had left over, and stick it down the hole in hopes SB would be able to climb up. Needless to say, this bright idea didn't really work out. SB was pretty exhausted at this point, what with falling down a hole into a metal box and weird things looking at him through slots in the box with a flashlight. He wasn't going anywhere.

Defeated, Travis slunk back down out of the attic (after sticking the trap back up there just in case), and mumbled something like "I guess we can try it your way." So we then proceeded to take the filter screen off the vent hood, exposing the fan. You could see SB's foot between the blades, but he wasn't making any effort to slide out between them. Our next step was to take the fan off. As you can imagine, we were a bit nervous that the second the fan was out of the way, he would dart down through the hole and off to wreak havoc in our house. So the second Travis removed the second bracket for the fan and pulled the blades out of the way, I moved the cat carrier under the hole with the door open.

Still no luck! SB could also stand for Stubborn Bastard in the case of this particular squirrel. He tried to make a break back up the vent box, and got stuck. Travis rushed back into the attic, this time with a more effective Poking Stick (tm). He made a bunch of noise and rattled the stick around in the box above SB, frightning the little guy half to death and making him retreat back down the box, at which point he fell in the cat carrier I had under the fan hole.

Success! I snapped the door closed, and took the little bugger outside. He was even smaller than the one we caught the other day. Very cute, but very pissed and protesting the indignity of being trapped in a cat carrier. I set him loose and he took off towards the water troughs.

The next hour was taken up with putting the vent hood back together, cleaning up the stove and counters and floor which had woodshavings and dust all over them, and so on. As we finished cleaning up, we hear the tell-tale scratching and frolicking of yet another squirrel in the attic. All we can do is look at each other and sigh.

It is like being in the movie Groundhog Day, only this time the rodents want revenge and there isn't a Bill Murray around to make it funny. At this point, we hope it is the last one, because they seem to be materializing out of nowhere. The mom and one of the babies were outside when we closed the hole up (because I saw them). Since then we have removed 2 squirrels, and there is at least one more up there.

Today, we heard more racket in the box for the stove hood, but it seems like this one learned from his sibling's mistakes and didn't fall down the vent (to our relief). If only he would get in that darned trap!

Originally published at Reality Distortion Field.

24th-Apr-2009 01:45 am - Deez Nutz...
So part two of the squirrel saga has come to a close.

Squirrel baby #1 was caught today by the live trap, and lo, he was cute. (Pic to come as soon as I upload it from my phone)

We took out the live trap, watched him for a couple minutes outside, then set him loose to run off with his squirrel buddies.

We thought that was the end.

Later this afternoon, I hear a racket in the Kitchen. Baby squirrel is clinging to the window frame (on the outside) and Mr. Fister (kitty) is bodyslamming into the window trying to get to him (on the inside). I went outside to chase the baby squirrel away, and heard the tell tale pitter-patter of baby squirrel feet in the attic eave. So we still have another squirrel to trap. Carlie was already asleep by time Travis got home, so it was too late tonight to put the trap back in the attic (makes a lot of noise getting up there). Tomorrow, one of us has to shinny back to that damn corner with the trap again.


Damnit! >.<

Originally published at Reality Distortion Field.

22nd-Apr-2009 04:45 pm - On to nicer things...
Here's a short update on life recently...

Travis' parents came to visit us several days, which was fun and less stressful than I imagined. His dad is great, but sometimes his mom has the tendency to make slightly snarky comments that offend subtly. Thankfullly, there was none of that this time at all.

They only stayed for a couple of days, which is fine. Just enough time to enjoy the visit and not get tired of each other yet. Much beer was drunk by all (except Carlie), and we even caught a few fish.

Carlie has started walking on her own in the last few days. She was previously cruising and walking while holding on to my hands, but now she strikes out across the room on her own. It is very cute.

Travis quit his job, which is slightly scary, but I have picked up some extra contracts for design jobs, so I almost think we could live on what I am making if he doesn't get something right away. At least I have him to chase the baby around the house while I work!

We had a septic tank semi-disaster while his parents were here. It rained quite a bit and the extra load on our septic system= nasty puddle on ground above our tank. So we had to have a honeydipper (what a totally silly name for the job) come and empty out the tank. Hopefully that will have solved it for now.

Today Travis and I saw the mom squirrel leave with one of the babies to do whatever it is squirrels do, leaving one baby behind in the attic. So Travis closed up the hole and put a live trap in the attic, so hopefully we will be through with the little buggers soon.

That about covers it, I should go now before my child gets scratched by the cat she is smacking with a toy telephone. Peace!
22nd-Apr-2009 03:22 pm - Sparks and smoulderings
I have had to reflect on the theory of 'luck' recently, and what it means. Fate can be cruel, or kind, depending on who is doing the observing.

A friend I knew from when she was a member at dragonmount long ago has been struggling for years with fertility issues. After getting pregnant in 2007 with In-vitro, she lost the baby at 36 weeks, stillbirth. Another round of IVF followed, which resulted in another pregnancy at the end of march. She just found out today that the new pregnancy is ectopic (in her fallopian tube), and it will have to be removed along with the affected tube. I mean...how much crappy luck can one person get allotted?

I watched a TV show on lottery winners, which showed how their lives changed after winning. Most of them blew through the money, and ruined their lives in various ways. Suicide, vehicular manslaughter, you get the picture. The only one that didn't seem to have that problem was a sweet girl from southern california. She told her fiance that she would win the lottery so he didn't have to get shipped off to Iraq. Two days before his unit leaves, she wins close to 50 million. They are married and living in the sonoma valley now. For all appearances, she and her husband seem well-adjusted, with a nice farm and money saved away.

So. Two equally deserving couples, one who hits the lottery, winning big time...the other has hit the anti-lottery time and again. What separates the two? Who decides who rolls 7 and who gets snake-eyes? Is there some great dealer in the sky that takes perverse delight in handing some people deuces and others kings? I don't think I will ever understand it or know, but I will stop with the gambling analogies.
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