e is! 
Friday, July 13, 2007
The Little Guy
Well, he has officially been here a week and he is still alive so, that being a miracle in itsself, I think it is time to introduce the newest addition to our family, TOBIN JAMES, aslo known as Toby. Toby is our adorable toy poodle puppy who is 2 1/2 months old and is just about the best dog I have ever had! He is already learing to sit and fetch and a whole week of him being home alone during the day and he has not destroyed anything! This is fantastic! I think this puppy may even rub off on the spousal unit...I better not hold my breath of that one. But anyway, here h
e is!
e is! 
The Beginning of DIY
Ok, so now that we have moved back home there is much work left to do that, quite frankly, I have no interest in doing but, alas, it needs to be done so we don’t permanently live with concrete floors in the bathrooms and laundry rooms and well, so it doesn’t feel quite so much like camping!
My husband seems almost excited about these projects. You should see him! He is a superhero with a wrench, or whatever you call those things! We (I use the term “we” very loosely – you are better off reading “he”) started demolishing the master bathroom so that we could put in all the new pretty stuff that is patiently waiting in the garage and he was tearing out the cabinets bare handed!! Without one sign of butt crack!!! If that isn’t amazing I don’t know what is. So, this weekend, I think we can start painting and there is rumor of the new cabinets going in…I ‘m sure that, if given enough time without the kids this weekend, my husband could maybe even start thinking about the shower stall that has me completely stumped.
Man on a mission
My husband seems almost excited about these projects. You should see him! He is a superhero with a wrench, or whatever you call those things! We (I use the term “we” very loosely – you are better off reading “he”) started demolishing the master bathroom so that we could put in all the new pretty stuff that is patiently waiting in the garage and he was tearing out the cabinets bare handed!! Without one sign of butt crack!!! If that isn’t amazing I don’t know what is. So, this weekend, I think we can start painting and there is rumor of the new cabinets going in…I ‘m sure that, if given enough time without the kids this weekend, my husband could maybe even start thinking about the shower stall that has me completely stumped.
Man on a mission
Blood, Sweat, and Tears, People!!!
So, my dear husband seems to think that in order to write about something as monumental as our house and the fiasco we have been living that I must first, inform you, the readers of the disaster of January 14th, 2007.
Every once in a while, as though I enjoy things like being pinched or tortured in some small way, my husband will convince me that we should go up to visit his parents. I am not too particularly fond of these visits as you can almost read across my in laws’ foreheads, “We despise her!” when I walk into that home but, as a good wife, we go, anyway. Well, one of the first weekends in January, we went up to do just that. We spent a lovely time there eating three day old food that sat out uncovered on the stove that, even when fresh, I am fairly certain that I could not distinguish exactly what it was. I have my in laws to thank for my children’s complete immunity to food poison.
Any way, shortly into our drive home, we get a call from our neighbor to expect a disaster when we returned. Apparently, while we were away, the temperature dropped down to 12 degrees! In California!! And when our zillion year old copper pipes burst in the ceiling and thawed, they poured water all through the blown in insulation, brought the ceiling down and ruined everything from ceiling to wood floors along with all the belongings in between! Our neighbor (who should apply for sainthood, as far as I’m concerned) saw water pouring down our driveway from our garage door and decided it was a good idea to check in on us. It was then that he saw what was happening and turned our water off at the valve.
We made a u-turn, left the kids with the in laws, and headed home to discover the house was torn apart. Immediately, we tried to call the “24 hour Emergency Hotline” for our insurance, but wouldn’t you know, they were closed for the weekend and then the holiday. After 40 messages, we heard back from the insurance agent from hell that it could be about 2 weeks before they got an adjuster out there. Fabulous! The adjuster was rude, to put it nicely – really, I wanted to stick a boot up his rear end and see if maybe that would change his disposition for the better but thought best to do otherwise.
Weeks after going through every piece of everything we had and documenting it with description, price, photo and online price, we found out that our adjuster would no longer be working with us and had not submitted anything…Thanks so much, jerk! Now I really wish I had stuck that boot where it didn’t belong!
Though we had contractors to do most of the work, it really felt like we did everything ourselves, from clearing the place out to taking down the old fireplace and door jams to putting new light fixtures and switch plates in. I’m pretty sure my dear husband and I almost got divorced during the process of picking out new flooring and paint colors but, no, we’re still married. The total clean up must’ve been about 5 ½ months because we are just starting to move back in. I’ll throw in some pictures to horrify you all later. And the house we stayed while this all happened? Well, that’s a whole other story!
Every once in a while, as though I enjoy things like being pinched or tortured in some small way, my husband will convince me that we should go up to visit his parents. I am not too particularly fond of these visits as you can almost read across my in laws’ foreheads, “We despise her!” when I walk into that home but, as a good wife, we go, anyway. Well, one of the first weekends in January, we went up to do just that. We spent a lovely time there eating three day old food that sat out uncovered on the stove that, even when fresh, I am fairly certain that I could not distinguish exactly what it was. I have my in laws to thank for my children’s complete immunity to food poison.
Any way, shortly into our drive home, we get a call from our neighbor to expect a disaster when we returned. Apparently, while we were away, the temperature dropped down to 12 degrees! In California!! And when our zillion year old copper pipes burst in the ceiling and thawed, they poured water all through the blown in insulation, brought the ceiling down and ruined everything from ceiling to wood floors along with all the belongings in between! Our neighbor (who should apply for sainthood, as far as I’m concerned) saw water pouring down our driveway from our garage door and decided it was a good idea to check in on us. It was then that he saw what was happening and turned our water off at the valve.
We made a u-turn, left the kids with the in laws, and headed home to discover the house was torn apart. Immediately, we tried to call the “24 hour Emergency Hotline” for our insurance, but wouldn’t you know, they were closed for the weekend and then the holiday. After 40 messages, we heard back from the insurance agent from hell that it could be about 2 weeks before they got an adjuster out there. Fabulous! The adjuster was rude, to put it nicely – really, I wanted to stick a boot up his rear end and see if maybe that would change his disposition for the better but thought best to do otherwise.
Weeks after going through every piece of everything we had and documenting it with description, price, photo and online price, we found out that our adjuster would no longer be working with us and had not submitted anything…Thanks so much, jerk! Now I really wish I had stuck that boot where it didn’t belong!
Though we had contractors to do most of the work, it really felt like we did everything ourselves, from clearing the place out to taking down the old fireplace and door jams to putting new light fixtures and switch plates in. I’m pretty sure my dear husband and I almost got divorced during the process of picking out new flooring and paint colors but, no, we’re still married. The total clean up must’ve been about 5 ½ months because we are just starting to move back in. I’ll throw in some pictures to horrify you all later. And the house we stayed while this all happened? Well, that’s a whole other story!
Best Quote EVER!!!
"Just because you've got the emotional range of a teaspoon doesn't mean we all have." - From the newest Harry Potter Movie.
As always, its a must go see!
As always, its a must go see!
Thursday, July 12, 2007
She will win Wolfgang Puck's Heart
My daughter is a complete nutcase!
I guess all two and a half year olds are but I just can do nothing but sit back and laugh at this girl some nights.
She has developed a taste for unique foods like feta cheese and spinach; she prefers these things to ice cream. What the heck is wrong with this girl?
The night before last, I heard her walking through the house and then some whining in her room but ignored her because, quite frankly, I was tired and she didn’t have her face thisclose to my face so, I didn’t think she needed me but, when I got up, I discovered that this little goober had gone to the kitchen opened the fridge that she swears she cannot open and gotten Mediterranean olives, taken them back to her room and had been sitting there in the dark eating them like a closet foodie! She must’ve whined when she knocked them over because when I walked into her room that morning I just saw olives and pits splattered all across the floor and the happy (stinky-breathed) little girl was sound asleep in her bed with olive skin on her right cheek.
Tell me we are not beginning all sorts of complexes here!
I guess all two and a half year olds are but I just can do nothing but sit back and laugh at this girl some nights.
She has developed a taste for unique foods like feta cheese and spinach; she prefers these things to ice cream. What the heck is wrong with this girl?
The night before last, I heard her walking through the house and then some whining in her room but ignored her because, quite frankly, I was tired and she didn’t have her face thisclose to my face so, I didn’t think she needed me but, when I got up, I discovered that this little goober had gone to the kitchen opened the fridge that she swears she cannot open and gotten Mediterranean olives, taken them back to her room and had been sitting there in the dark eating them like a closet foodie! She must’ve whined when she knocked them over because when I walked into her room that morning I just saw olives and pits splattered all across the floor and the happy (stinky-breathed) little girl was sound asleep in her bed with olive skin on her right cheek.
Tell me we are not beginning all sorts of complexes here!
Funniest Thing Ever!!!
I had to bring this in because it is just that funny...
A guy who purchased his lovely wife a pocket Taser for their anniversary submitted this:
------
Last weekend at Larry's Pistol & Pawn Shop I was looking for a little something extra for my wife Toni. What I came across was a 100,000-volt pocket/purse-sized taser. The effects of the taser were supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on an assailant. The idea is to allow my wife -- who would never consider a gun --adequate time to retreat to safety. WAY TOO COOL!!
Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home. I loaded in two triple-a batteries and pushed the button. Nothing! I was disappointed. But then I read (yes, 'read') that if I pushed the button AND pressed it against a metal surface at the same time; I'd get the blue arch of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs and I'd know it was working. Awesome!!! (Actually, I have yet to explain to Toni what that burn spot is on the face of her microwave).
Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn't be all that bad with only two triple-a batteries, right?!! There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently (trusting little soul) while I was reading the directions and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh and blood moving target. I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie (for a fraction of a second) and thought better of it. She is such a sweet cat.
But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised. Am I wrong? So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, and taser in another. The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and a major loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water. Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries.
So, I'm sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one side as to say, "don't do it," reasoning that a one-second burst from such a tiny little ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad. I decided to give myself a one-second burst just for the heck of it. I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and HOLY MOTHER OF GOD, WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION @!@$$!%!@*!!! I'm pretty sure Jessie Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me up in the recliner, and body slammed us both on the carpet, over and over and over again.
I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs. You should know, if you ever feel compelled to "mug" yourself with a taser, that there is no such thing as a one-second burst when you zap yourself. You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor. SON-OF-A-... that hurt like hell!!! A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), I collected what little wits I had left, sat up and surveyed the landscape. My bent reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. How did they up get there??? My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs.
I'm still looking for my testicles!!
I'm offering a significant reward for their safe return.
Still in shock,
Earl
A guy who purchased his lovely wife a pocket Taser for their anniversary submitted this:
------
Last weekend at Larry's Pistol & Pawn Shop I was looking for a little something extra for my wife Toni. What I came across was a 100,000-volt pocket/purse-sized taser. The effects of the taser were supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on an assailant. The idea is to allow my wife -- who would never consider a gun --adequate time to retreat to safety. WAY TOO COOL!!
Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home. I loaded in two triple-a batteries and pushed the button. Nothing! I was disappointed. But then I read (yes, 'read') that if I pushed the button AND pressed it against a metal surface at the same time; I'd get the blue arch of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs and I'd know it was working. Awesome!!! (Actually, I have yet to explain to Toni what that burn spot is on the face of her microwave).
Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn't be all that bad with only two triple-a batteries, right?!! There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently (trusting little soul) while I was reading the directions and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh and blood moving target. I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie (for a fraction of a second) and thought better of it. She is such a sweet cat.
But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised. Am I wrong? So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, and taser in another. The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and a major loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water. Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries.
So, I'm sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one side as to say, "don't do it," reasoning that a one-second burst from such a tiny little ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad. I decided to give myself a one-second burst just for the heck of it. I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and HOLY MOTHER OF GOD, WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION @!@$$!%!@*!!! I'm pretty sure Jessie Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me up in the recliner, and body slammed us both on the carpet, over and over and over again.
I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs. You should know, if you ever feel compelled to "mug" yourself with a taser, that there is no such thing as a one-second burst when you zap yourself. You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor. SON-OF-A-... that hurt like hell!!! A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), I collected what little wits I had left, sat up and surveyed the landscape. My bent reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. How did they up get there??? My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs.
I'm still looking for my testicles!!
I'm offering a significant reward for their safe return.
Still in shock,
Earl
This is Old but, I brought it over anyway...
Its sunny, Friday, and I've finished doing everything I needed to do for the day…I want to go home! Waahhaa!!! Ok, now that I'm done bitching about that…Here's whats going on with me lately, in case you all cared...
I am getting ready to celebrate Mateo's first birthday, it feels like he was just born but, the kid is HUGE so I know that can't be true. Bummer. Someone should tell him he's not allowed to grow up because he doesn't listen to me, I'm just his mom.
All my friends seem to be moving away. It took a lot of time to let new ones in and now that I did, they are moving on to bigger and better things. Joey and Kate moved to the Bay – I'm happy that they get to be somewhere better and can move up in their lives but it sucks because they were supposed to stay until we moved back up there…whenever that happens. See how self centered I am!?! And pretty shortly, Kendra and Cole will be moving to North Carolina for Cole to get his Masters at Duke which rocks because its an amazing opportunity but I'm already trying to figure out the easiest way to get there (hwy 46 to 99 to 58 to 15 to 40 and its an even 2447 miles on the 40)
And then there is the house… Forgive me but I wish that house would have burned down instead of flooded. At least then they couldn't look at our damaged stuff and say it should be dusted off and reused. Now, we get to look over the torn apart place over and over again and look at it piece by piece as they tell us they will give us a fraction of what each thing is worth. I hate them. I hate that this happened and I'm having a hard time over looking it all to see the bright side! Grrr… that's it for now.
I am getting ready to celebrate Mateo's first birthday, it feels like he was just born but, the kid is HUGE so I know that can't be true. Bummer. Someone should tell him he's not allowed to grow up because he doesn't listen to me, I'm just his mom.
All my friends seem to be moving away. It took a lot of time to let new ones in and now that I did, they are moving on to bigger and better things. Joey and Kate moved to the Bay – I'm happy that they get to be somewhere better and can move up in their lives but it sucks because they were supposed to stay until we moved back up there…whenever that happens. See how self centered I am!?! And pretty shortly, Kendra and Cole will be moving to North Carolina for Cole to get his Masters at Duke which rocks because its an amazing opportunity but I'm already trying to figure out the easiest way to get there (hwy 46 to 99 to 58 to 15 to 40 and its an even 2447 miles on the 40)
And then there is the house… Forgive me but I wish that house would have burned down instead of flooded. At least then they couldn't look at our damaged stuff and say it should be dusted off and reused. Now, we get to look over the torn apart place over and over again and look at it piece by piece as they tell us they will give us a fraction of what each thing is worth. I hate them. I hate that this happened and I'm having a hard time over looking it all to see the bright side! Grrr… that's it for now.
Like Anyone Cares
Was I dork all along? No seriously! I always felt out of place in school and then in college, and now in the real world, I am finally finding my place with amazing friends and great coworkers and I'm left wondering about those awkward times. Was a I dork and I didn't get it? There are so many people out there that were geeks and just owned it but I never did. I was friends with everyone…I think! Stacy Wilson, you tell me! You were queen of the popular and I always thought of you as a good friend. Was that in my head? Did I bounce between cliques because I was denying the inner geek or did I bounce because I honestly could have gone anywhere.
And in college, as a Sigma Kappa, Alissa, you tell me. Did I EVER fit in there? Gosh! As much as I loved my times there with everyone, and I felt I fit in better there than any where else I always felt out of place.
So, write to me on this one. Its ok what ever you say. Whether you burn me or not. Was I a dork? What the hell group did I/ do I belong in?!?
And in college, as a Sigma Kappa, Alissa, you tell me. Did I EVER fit in there? Gosh! As much as I loved my times there with everyone, and I felt I fit in better there than any where else I always felt out of place.
So, write to me on this one. Its ok what ever you say. Whether you burn me or not. Was I a dork? What the hell group did I/ do I belong in?!?
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