She is as constant as the sunrise...

 

Last night I had to take a medicine that I had never taken before and true to form, I was slightly worried. Husband is out of town and it was just Zeus and Fritz with me. Well, I was concerned that I would have a reaction and possibly croak from the new medicine so I put extra food and water in the bedroom for the pumpkin dogs in case something unfortunate happened, you know, like my death. (Shut up.) Well....fast forward to me telling my mother what I did and cue hysterical laughter on the other end of the phone....I can always count on her to make me feel better or either make me feel so insanely crazy that I laugh myself back to reality.

 

 

We as people tend to take things that we have readily available to us for granted. I have lived away from my mother for too many years now and I long for the days when I could walk into the next room or drive to her house and see her, although I bet she is probably more than a little relieved that I can no longer pop in unannounced and wreak havoc on her day and ask for some type of food that she undoubtedly would have to go create from scratch in the kitchen. Seriously, I used to have devil horns (yes, used to...) and I was not afraid to use them and bless her, she loved me through it all. My mother deserves a medal for enduring morning after morning of screams and hateful looks from me when she would try to wake me up for school, for being attacked by my hairdryer on numerous occasions because she startled me while I was drying my hair, and for spending half of her life talking me off of the many ledges I climbed up on at any given time. You would think that at 30 years old, I wouldn't need her like I did when I was growing up, but I still do. Every single day. And even though half the time I call her because my head is spinning and hissing snakes are flying out of it or I don't know how to turn on the oven, she never fails to be there for me and make me feel less alone, less crazy, and more like everything will be okay. 

 

 

 

 

Let them eat wood!

That's right, folks. And Happy Thursday to you too.

I can't say that I'm in full blown I hate everyone today mode, but I've been teetering on the hate fence now for about, ohhh...I'd say a good month and a half. (smiling sweetly and sending lots of love to you at work today, husband!....uhh hmmm.) So this little gem of a whatever-these-things-are-that-I-keep-seeing-everywhere seemed very fitting for me. If I'm being honest though, not a day goes by that someone's face doesn't annoy me! And NO. I will not accept those dirty looks you are trying to send me right now. A good HALF of those days its my own face that annoys me.

Anywho. Speaking of annoying...there is a man, a rather hmm, let's just say he's the opposite of squeaky clean and he is wearing about as far from a suit as you can get...well anyway, he's in my bathroom right now...Not USING it!!!...you know, he's just re-attaching our flipping roof that was soggy and moldy and was about to collapse on our heads!!! I mean, I don't want to bore anyone with the details, but basically...I'VE BEEN BREATHING IN MOLD! And so have MY DOGS! And the grey dog, just happens to be ALLERGIC to mold.

We have this really awesome rooftop patio here in good ole California, and naturally there are stairs that lead up to the patio...?? You knew that, right? Well, blah blah..there was a leak and now there is a burly fella in my bathroom repairing it. Well, yes I am happy that the mold is gone, but I mean...who is this person? Not to mention I am here alone with him...of course the wife has to be the one that stays home with the creepsters that come to repair things in our houses. It really would be too much to ask of the husbands to make time in their busy days to do something besides go sit at a desk and pretend they are working. Sorry, see...my husband's sweet angelic face isn't even immune to annoying me. So I'm just sitting here...really hoping that this man is only into repairing bathrooms and such and not into assaulting women or rotisserie-ing dogs.

But before this...before the bathroom repairs came the termite tenting. And when I say termite tenting, I mean that they put a giant tent over your entire house and pump poison gas into the tent to kill the little wood-eaters. We rent, (thank God) and when the property manager (Hi, Mary :)) told us that we had to get out of our house for a weekend, I really didn't think too much of it...that is, until I learned that we had to put everything...and I mean EVERYTHING (okay...just food, toothpaste...medicines, etc.) in these plastic bags and tape them up. And after you empty your pantry and your fridge and your medicine cabinets and your dog's toy box and your house is destroyed and it looks like a bomb went off in your home, thennnnn, you just have to put all the plastic bags inside another plastic bag and tape that up as well. No big deal, right? Ha! You have CLEARLY never had termite treatment, Suzy Sunshine.

So we bagged everything and I secretly threw a lot of stuff away because I thought if we had to take such extreme measures to make sure that everything that would ever go into our mouth was safely in these double-bagged bags, that'd I just assume throw everything away and start over at the grocery store...you know, in hopes of not ingesting something that had absorbed poisonous gas?!? Well, sweet husband had another idea and big-bad-bold-beat-my-chest-man came out and he assured me that he had done the best damn double-bagging job that anybody had ever done before and we were not throwing our food away.

I guess long story short is that when we returned from our weekend away, I let him have the first few bites of everything he cooked that had been bagged up and waited to see if he lived or died. He's still truckin' along so I guess we are okay.

The night we got back home, I googled..a lot...about this poison gas and ended up running outside with my two dogs because I convinced myself that the gas was still in the house. No, I didn't care that the pest control people had walked around with a gas meter and determined that it was safe. I left brave husband sitting right at the kitchen table eating his dinner and got me and the schnauzers outta dodge. Of course I came right back after I called our downstairs neighbor and heard that she was still alive as well. In my defense, they DO mix pepper spray in with the gas to warn people if its leaking or if its still inside the house and everyone's eyes were burning! (and nobody knew that they mixed the pepper spray in with the gas until genius (that's me) googled about it...they were all just sitting around wondering why their eyes were burning). So let me get this straight, the pepper spray that you mixed in with the poisonous gas is still burning our eyes, but there is no way in hell that the poison gas is still in my house? You can see the cause for concern, right? I thought you'd agree with me.

Geez. So I guess what I'm trying to say is...it's not worth it!! Let the little bastards eat the wood.



This is Louie the First, you know, our fish, riding in the console of the Tahoe.
He even had to vacate the house for the weekend.

Now what should I do with this man in my bathroom? I mean, is there an etiquette for this? Should I offer him a cookie or a muffin or something? I'm gonna go google that.

Holy Chickens and Angry Gays

I am almost at a loss for words that it is August 1 already. Where has the time gone?.."The days are long, but the years are short." (Yes, I saw that on Pinterest.) Anyway, I can't believe this was my first thought when I started this blog entry. I guess its all down hill from here (I AM 30 now). Pretty soon I'll be talking about the weather, my blood pressure, and my weekly hair appointments to the hair salon where I get my short bob washed and sausage-roll-curled.

Ehh, but in the mean time...let's talk about Chick-fil-A!! Yes, that should be fun. We will talk about the evil chicken place and everyone will get their feathers ruffled.

So, of course you have heard what that bible-beatin' Dan Cathy said about not agreeing with same-sex marriages?? I'm paraphrasing here, but basically he just said that he thinks we are walking on thin ice with God as we arrogantly try to redefine what marriage is.

Can someone please explain to me why his opinion cannot just be his opinion without everyone getting all red-faced and sweaty? We (and I am using all-inclusive pronouns on purpose here) expect that people of faith respect and accept our decisions/lifestyles/beliefs/desires/sexual preferences/etc/etc/etc, so why does it not go both ways?

Now listen, I've said it before and I'll say it again...I am of the mindset of live and let live. I could not care less who gets married really. It is not up to me to judge and even if it was, I wouldn't. I love everyone...well, as much as I CAN love everyone. But that's not very much as you all should know. Anyway, if God comes down and wants to send every sinner sliding down the slippery slope to hell then that's up to Him. (whatever constitutes a sinner who's sins are worthy enough of going to hell for...that's still up in the air among us humans it seems *rolling my eyes and sighing really loud*)  But regardless, this whole thing is totally ridiculous to me. If he had said something like gay people are not welcome in our establishments, then I can see the outrage, but he didn't say that did he? And really, what did you expect him to say?!? The place isn't even open on Sundays!

Every single person has their opinion on what should and should not be happening. Personally, I think the amount of chickens they kill is completely effing unwarranted and I hate every second of it. I'd like to make it illegal and punishable by death to kill any animal, but despite my efforts to influence those around me and start a mass protest for the animals of the world, my own husband still rummages through the meat selection at the grocery store and gets really excited about a good slab of meat. Not to mention, my dogs both eat venison and turkey dog food.

I know this is not an animal rights post (well, all my posts are animal rights simply because I love animals more than humans and I am writing this damnit!) But anyway, I am just saying that this man, this bastard man!!, said his opinion on something and now we have drawn battle lines about it. And I can't help but think that surely there is something else we can be outraged about?

And no, I am not downplaying the need for equality in the world and I feel strongly that all things (uhhmm, including animals) should be equal regardless of race, gender, sexual orientation, and so on and so forth, but is Chick-fil-A really the battle that's going to accomplish this?

Furthermore!!!!, what happened to freedom of speech people!? Geez! Has this damn country lost its mind?? Maybe we shouldn't be called "America" anymore because if we can't even say our opinion then clearly, this is not the land of the free.

This whole thing will eventually calm down and Dan Cathy's comment is not actually going to affect the rights of gay men and women, just as the boycotting and the evil hisses towards Chick-fil-A are not going to shut down the establishment. It stays open because human beings like to sink their carnivorous teeth into a piece or ten of chicken and that's not going to stop just because the president of the company doesn't agree with gay marriage.

Good gawd this is so exasperating. Gay marriage supporters: change doesn't happen overnight! But I mean, don't you know that it WILL happen? I do.

Can't everyone just calm down and be glad that you are a part of the highest group on the food chain and nobody is keeping you in a cage, letting you get just fat enough to eat your ass?

Tootle-oo.

PS. I have on rainbow socks today and am eating a brownie from Chick-fil-A.