Monday, November 14, 2005
30% Chance
Sigh. There is a 30% chance of snow showers predicted for several days this coming week. Is it that time already? Sigh.
Thursday, October 20, 2005
Please! MAKE IT STOP!
So, as stated in several posts, I work at an insect farm. Crickets to be more exact. I work in the office so I normally don't have much contact with the actual bugs. Occasionally, we'll get one or two that sneaks in and starts making noise, but it is quickly tracked down and thrown out the back door. Until recently. This past week the noise has been nearly intolerable. I HATE the sound of crickets. The incessant chirping is like nails on a chalk board to me.
Somehow, we have hundreds in the office. Apparently all adults because they are calling to each other from one corner to another. They hang out on warm spots, like the power supplies for our computers, printers, etc. Out of desperation, I just spent 25 minutes with a dust buster trying to vacuum the ones I could reach. Then I sprayed Lysol in their hiding spots. I normally try to avoid stepping on them at all costs (the snap they make as your shoe crushes them is quite disturbing), but today I have been stomping on them whenever they dare to brave the open carpet.
It is a bit quieter now. Only a handful are chirping. Hopefully, they won't work up to the dull roar they were sustaining a half hour ago.
2:00 Update: So, the Lysol and vacuuming created only a temporary repreve. They are back to chirping at nearly full volume and I am stomping on any that come out of hiding. Glad I only work 3 days a week!! We need weather stripping flaps on the doors to the office to keep them from having free access in - I have suggested this to the office manager this afternoon... We'll see...
Somehow, we have hundreds in the office. Apparently all adults because they are calling to each other from one corner to another. They hang out on warm spots, like the power supplies for our computers, printers, etc. Out of desperation, I just spent 25 minutes with a dust buster trying to vacuum the ones I could reach. Then I sprayed Lysol in their hiding spots. I normally try to avoid stepping on them at all costs (the snap they make as your shoe crushes them is quite disturbing), but today I have been stomping on them whenever they dare to brave the open carpet.
It is a bit quieter now. Only a handful are chirping. Hopefully, they won't work up to the dull roar they were sustaining a half hour ago.
2:00 Update: So, the Lysol and vacuuming created only a temporary repreve. They are back to chirping at nearly full volume and I am stomping on any that come out of hiding. Glad I only work 3 days a week!! We need weather stripping flaps on the doors to the office to keep them from having free access in - I have suggested this to the office manager this afternoon... We'll see...
Thursday, September 22, 2005
Blogger! Hear my plea!
Spell Checker that checks automatically before posting! I write my posts, publish them, re-read them, get an email from CK telling me of the misspellings, and have to go edit and republish them because I forget to spell check.
Spelling has never been my forte (phortae, fortay, fourtay). Sigh.
Spelling has never been my forte (phortae, fortay, fourtay). Sigh.
The Move
We finally moved into our new house yesterday. I think I am too tired to be excited. Give me a few days. We (CK and I) are big procrastinators so we were up until 2:00 am on Tuesday night/Wednesday morning doing last minute packing - until we ran out of boxes. We got most of the heavy/large/important things packed for the movers to move. We still have to go pack some of the kitchen dishes and small appliances, a couple lamps, and the tortoise's 4 foot abode (he is now residing in a very cramped 5 gallon aquarium), but that will wait until tomorrow.
Tonight, we are going to pick the dog up from the pup resort, order some take-out (we are now in delivery areas!!), find a recliner, and watch TV until we fall asleep in the chairs and the dog wakes us up by throwing his water or food dish at us for a refill.
Tonight, we are going to pick the dog up from the pup resort, order some take-out (we are now in delivery areas!!), find a recliner, and watch TV until we fall asleep in the chairs and the dog wakes us up by throwing his water or food dish at us for a refill.
Friday, September 16, 2005
"Is that Ron Jeremy?"
Continuing on our trip to the dreaded Kenosha , WI
Our other required stop during this trip is Villa de Carlos. This is a family owned pizza place down by the shores ofLake Michigan . LB and I grew up eating their pizza and have found it difficult to find any that we like as much (LB lives in Chicago
The dining ambiance and decor is a bit hard to describe. They strive to keep the decorations seasonal, for example, we had a fall theme going during this visit. Additionally, they have the "ol' standby" decorations. The massive amounts of twinkle lights everywhere, the faux birds hanging from the ceiling, the occasional baby deer curled up in a pseudo forest in the corner, and so on.
It is almost always busy. Our wait this evening was estimated to be 45 minutes - and it was already after 8 P.M. After only 25 minutes, we were seated in a horseshoe booth under a canopy of faux forsythia (fauxsythia?) and tree branches. The table is covered in butcher paper and they provide crayons for your dining entertainment. We don't need to look at the menu because LB and I ALWAYS get the same thing. We start with a combo-basket of fried cheese, mushrooms, cheese, zucchini, and did I say cheese? And our pizza is always a hand-tossed pizza with mushrooms, zucchini, and tomato slices. YUM!
As we dined on our fried cheese we observed the crowd in the restaurant. We saw the mullet, the big 80's hair, the blue eye liner, more metal band t-shirts, the lingerie ladies now wear as a shirt (or skirt), the waitress in a tennis skirt, I could continue. It really is like stepping back in time. Anyway, about the time we got our pizza CK looked up and said, "Is that Ron Jeremy?" LB and I turned and gawked. Standing below the array of twinkle lights was a man wearing a tuxedo t-shirt who looked very much like the infamous Ron Jeremy. For those of you wondering, "Who is this man she refers to?” he is a "star" of not-so-nice films. We know him from VH1's show The Surreal Life. Needlesstosay, it was not. Although we were compelled to grab the camera phone and snap a picture so we could blog about it! The pic also shows a little bit of the decor. Enjoy. :)
Our other required stop during this trip is Villa de Carlos. This is a family owned pizza place down by the shores of
The dining ambiance and decor is a bit hard to describe. They strive to keep the decorations seasonal, for example, we had a fall theme going during this visit. Additionally, they have the "ol' standby" decorations. The massive amounts of twinkle lights everywhere, the faux birds hanging from the ceiling, the occasional baby deer curled up in a pseudo forest in the corner, and so on.
It is almost always busy. Our wait this evening was estimated to be 45 minutes - and it was already after 8 P.M. After only 25 minutes, we were seated in a horseshoe booth under a canopy of faux forsythia (fauxsythia?) and tree branches. The table is covered in butcher paper and they provide crayons for your dining entertainment. We don't need to look at the menu because LB and I ALWAYS get the same thing. We start with a combo-basket of fried cheese, mushrooms, cheese, zucchini, and did I say cheese? And our pizza is always a hand-tossed pizza with mushrooms, zucchini, and tomato slices. YUM!
As we dined on our fried cheese we observed the crowd in the restaurant. We saw the mullet, the big 80's hair, the blue eye liner, more metal band t-shirts, the lingerie ladies now wear as a shirt (or skirt), the waitress in a tennis skirt, I could continue. It really is like stepping back in time. Anyway, about the time we got our pizza CK looked up and said, "Is that Ron Jeremy?" LB and I turned and gawked. Standing below the array of twinkle lights was a man wearing a tuxedo t-shirt who looked very much like the infamous Ron Jeremy. For those of you wondering, "Who is this man she refers to?” he is a "star" of not-so-nice films. We know him from VH1's show The Surreal Life. Needlesstosay, it was not. Although we were compelled to grab the camera phone and snap a picture so we could blog about it! The pic also shows a little bit of the decor. Enjoy. :)
Friday, September 09, 2005
Returning home.
This weekend we are going to Kenosha, Wisconsin. I always have mixed emotions about returning to the town where I lived from 6th grade until I graduated high school and moved away for college and never moved back.
Anyone who has visited or lived and left Kenosha knows that it sometimes can seem like you have stepped back in time. Located halfway between Milwaukee and Chicago, one would think the city would be progressing with current times; then they try to find a radio station that plays music dating past 1990. Any given day, you can drive around town and see black metal t-shirts, mullets, and long "80's hair band" hair. I find it creepy.
On the other hand, the city has done many things to improve the area and make it quite nice. The downtown area has gone from hobo-lane (as it was when I was young) to a very quaint, nice area. The lake and marina area has been improved and is unrecognizable to what I am used to.
That said, I look forward to Carl's Pizza and The Spot fried mushrooms and cheese (ahh, Wisconsin fried cheese). We are going to the Keno drive-in theater tonight (this could be fun or just too weird - we'll see).
You are probably wondering why we are going in the first place (the pizza is my favorite, but that isn't the main reason). We are going to see my grandma who is in the advanced stages of Alzheimer's. She doesn't really know who we are, but we visit because it makes her happy to have visitors.
So, we (me and my sister) return to the dreaded Kenosha.
Anyone who has visited or lived and left Kenosha knows that it sometimes can seem like you have stepped back in time. Located halfway between Milwaukee and Chicago, one would think the city would be progressing with current times; then they try to find a radio station that plays music dating past 1990. Any given day, you can drive around town and see black metal t-shirts, mullets, and long "80's hair band" hair. I find it creepy.
On the other hand, the city has done many things to improve the area and make it quite nice. The downtown area has gone from hobo-lane (as it was when I was young) to a very quaint, nice area. The lake and marina area has been improved and is unrecognizable to what I am used to.
That said, I look forward to Carl's Pizza and The Spot fried mushrooms and cheese (ahh, Wisconsin fried cheese). We are going to the Keno drive-in theater tonight (this could be fun or just too weird - we'll see).
You are probably wondering why we are going in the first place (the pizza is my favorite, but that isn't the main reason). We are going to see my grandma who is in the advanced stages of Alzheimer's. She doesn't really know who we are, but we visit because it makes her happy to have visitors.
So, we (me and my sister) return to the dreaded Kenosha.
Monday, September 05, 2005
Labor Day Grilling
A few years back, my mother moved in with us for 6 months. This is a long story which I won't get into here, but let it just be said that it was not a pleasant situation. My mother is a compulsive hoarder. After she had moved out (and I use this term loosely, since most of her junk still resided in my pole barn) my sister and I spent a weekend sorting (i.e. throwing most everything out) her 2,500 lbs (literally, the movers weighed it) of junk that was still being stored in the barn. Upon our sorting, we came across this bag [shown below].
Now that I am moving and we spent another weekend sorting through the rest of her stuff and weeding out our own, I ran across the bag again and thought it needed to be shared.
Have a hot dog on me for Labor Day.
Now that I am moving and we spent another weekend sorting through the rest of her stuff and weeding out our own, I ran across the bag again and thought it needed to be shared.
Have a hot dog on me for Labor Day.
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
I am disgusted.
During this tragic cleanup of the aftermath of hurricane Katrina, I am absolutely disgusted watching videos of people looting the deserted stores. I guess I am not surprised that it is happening, just saddened that these people care more about themselves than other human beings who are trapped, injured, and dying within walking distance. On every news channel you watch people laugh and celebrate as they ROB a store while being videotaped. The latest video showed two police officers participating! It turns my stomach and I hope in the years to come at least some of these people can be brought to justice from the videos. Especially the cops.
That said, I should add that our thoughts and prayers are with the rest of the people who have been affected by this storm (including my sister-in-law in Mobile, AL and my other sister-in-law in Birmingham, AL and their families).
That said, I should add that our thoughts and prayers are with the rest of the people who have been affected by this storm (including my sister-in-law in Mobile, AL and my other sister-in-law in Birmingham, AL and their families).
Friday, August 26, 2005
Against my better judgment...
In a previous post I ranted about forwarded emails. I am breaking my rule today an posting one which I just received. Having recently had a similar experience, (although not in the same "area" as the one in the story, thankfully) I found it hilarious.
You must be forewarned, it is a bit graphic, but not in a dirty way.
One Woman's Tale of Woe
All hair removal methods have tricked women with their promises of easy, painless removal - The Epi-lady, scissors, razors, Nair and now...the wax.
My night began as any other normal weeknight. Come home, fix dinner, and play with the kids. I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next few hours: "Maybe I should pull the waxing kit out of the medicine cabinet." So I headed to the site of my demise: the bathroom. It was one of those "cold wax" kits. No melting a clump of hot wax, you just rub the strips together in your hand, they get warm and you peel them apart and press them to your leg (or wherever else) and you pull the hair right off. No muss, no fuss. How hard can it be? I mean, I'm not a genius, but I am mechanically inclined enough to figure this out. (YA THINK!?!)
So I pull one of the thin strips out. Its two strips facing each other stuck together. Instead of rubbing them together, my genius kicks in so I get out the hair dryer and heat it to 1000 degrees. ("Cold wax," yeah...right!) I lay the strip across my thigh. Hold the skin around it tight and pull. It works! OK, so it wasn't the best feeling, but it wasn't too bad. I can do this! Hair removal no longer eludes me! I am She-rah, fighter of all wayward body hair and maker of smooth skin extraordinary.
With my next wax strip I move north. After checking on the kids, I sneak back into the bathroom, for the ultimate hair fighting championship. I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet. Using the same procedure, I apply the was strip across the right side of my bikini line, covering the right half of my vagina and stretching down to the inside of my butt cheek (Yes, it was a long strip) I inhale deeply and brace myself....RRRRIIIPPP!!!!
I'm blind!!! Blinded from pain!!!!....OH MY GOODNESS!!!!!!!!! Vision returning, I notice that I've only managed to pull off half the strip. CRAP!!! Another deep breath and RRIIPP!! Everything is swirly and spotted. I think I may pass out...must stay conscious...Do I hear crashing drums??? Breathe, breathe...OK, back to normal.
I want to see my trophy - a wax covered strip, the one that has caused me so much pain, with my hairy pelt sticking to it. I want to revel in the glory that is my triumph over body hair. I hold up the strip!
There's no hair on it. Where is the hair??? WHERE IS THE WAX??? Slowly I ease my head down, foot still perched on the toilet. I see the hair. The hair that should be on the strip!
I touch.
I am touching wax.
CRAP! I run my fingers over the most sensitive part of my body, which is now covered in cold wax and matted hair.
Then I make the next BIG mistake...remember my foot is still propped up on the toilet? I know I need to do something. So I put my foot down.
OH NO!!!!!!!! I hear the slamming of a cell door. Vagina? Sealed shut!
Butt?? Sealed shut!
I penguin walk around the bathroom trying to figure out what to do and think to myself "Please don't let me get the urge to poop. My head may pop off!" What can I do to melt the wax? Hot water!! Hot water melts wax!! I'll run the hottest water I can stand into the bathtub, get in, immerse the wax-covered bits and the wax should melt and I can gently wipe it off, right??? *WRONG!!!!!!!*
I get in the tub - the water is slightly hotter than that used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment - I sit.
Now, the only thing worse than having your nether regions glued together, is having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of the tub...in scalding hot water. Which, by the way, doesn't melt cold wax.
So, now I'm stuck to the bottom of the tub as though I had cement-epoxied myself to the porcelain!! God bless the man who had convinced me a few months ago to have a phone put in the bathroom!!!!!
I call my friend, thinking surely she has waxed before and has some secret of how to get me undone. It's a very good conversation starter - "So, my butt and who-ha are glued together to the bottom of the tub!"
There is a slight pause. She doesn't know any secret tricks for removal but she does try to hide her laughter from me. She wants to know exactly where the wax is located, "Are we talking cheeks or hole or who-ha?"
She's laughing out loud by now...I can hear her. I give her the rundown and she suggests I call the number on the side of the box. YEAH!!!!! Right!! I should be the joke of someone else's night.
While we go through various solutions. I resort to scraping the wax off with a razor. Nothing feels better then to have your girlie goodies covered in hot wax, glued shut, stuck to the tub in super hot water and then dry-shaving the sticky wax off!!
By now the brain is not working, dignity has taken a major hike and I'm pretty sure I'm going to need Post-Traumatic Stress counseling for this event.
My friend is still talking with me when I finally see my saving grace....the lotion they give you to remove the excess wax. What do I really have to lose at this point? I rub some on and OH MY GOODNESS!!!!!!!
The scream probably woke the kids and scared the dickens out of my friend. It's sooo painful, l but I really don't care. "IT WORKS!! It works!!" I get a hearty congratulation from my friend and she hangs up.
I successfully remove the remainder of the wax and then notice to my grief and despair....THE HAIR IS STILL THERE.......ALL OF IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!. So I recklessly shave it off. Heck, I'm numb by now. Nothing hurts. I could have amputated my own leg at this point.
You must be forewarned, it is a bit graphic, but not in a dirty way.
One Woman's Tale of Woe
All hair removal methods have tricked women with their promises of easy, painless removal - The Epi-lady, scissors, razors, Nair and now...the wax.
My night began as any other normal weeknight. Come home, fix dinner, and play with the kids. I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next few hours: "Maybe I should pull the waxing kit out of the medicine cabinet." So I headed to the site of my demise: the bathroom. It was one of those "cold wax" kits. No melting a clump of hot wax, you just rub the strips together in your hand, they get warm and you peel them apart and press them to your leg (or wherever else) and you pull the hair right off. No muss, no fuss. How hard can it be? I mean, I'm not a genius, but I am mechanically inclined enough to figure this out. (YA THINK!?!)
So I pull one of the thin strips out. Its two strips facing each other stuck together. Instead of rubbing them together, my genius kicks in so I get out the hair dryer and heat it to 1000 degrees. ("Cold wax," yeah...right!) I lay the strip across my thigh. Hold the skin around it tight and pull. It works! OK, so it wasn't the best feeling, but it wasn't too bad. I can do this! Hair removal no longer eludes me! I am She-rah, fighter of all wayward body hair and maker of smooth skin extraordinary.
With my next wax strip I move north. After checking on the kids, I sneak back into the bathroom, for the ultimate hair fighting championship. I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet. Using the same procedure, I apply the was strip across the right side of my bikini line, covering the right half of my vagina and stretching down to the inside of my butt cheek (Yes, it was a long strip) I inhale deeply and brace myself....RRRRIIIPPP!!!!
I'm blind!!! Blinded from pain!!!!....OH MY GOODNESS!!!!!!!!! Vision returning, I notice that I've only managed to pull off half the strip. CRAP!!! Another deep breath and RRIIPP!! Everything is swirly and spotted. I think I may pass out...must stay conscious...Do I hear crashing drums??? Breathe, breathe...OK, back to normal.
I want to see my trophy - a wax covered strip, the one that has caused me so much pain, with my hairy pelt sticking to it. I want to revel in the glory that is my triumph over body hair. I hold up the strip!
There's no hair on it. Where is the hair??? WHERE IS THE WAX??? Slowly I ease my head down, foot still perched on the toilet. I see the hair. The hair that should be on the strip!
I touch.
I am touching wax.
CRAP! I run my fingers over the most sensitive part of my body, which is now covered in cold wax and matted hair.
Then I make the next BIG mistake...remember my foot is still propped up on the toilet? I know I need to do something. So I put my foot down.
OH NO!!!!!!!! I hear the slamming of a cell door. Vagina? Sealed shut!
Butt?? Sealed shut!
I penguin walk around the bathroom trying to figure out what to do and think to myself "Please don't let me get the urge to poop. My head may pop off!" What can I do to melt the wax? Hot water!! Hot water melts wax!! I'll run the hottest water I can stand into the bathtub, get in, immerse the wax-covered bits and the wax should melt and I can gently wipe it off, right??? *WRONG!!!!!!!*
I get in the tub - the water is slightly hotter than that used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment - I sit.
Now, the only thing worse than having your nether regions glued together, is having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of the tub...in scalding hot water. Which, by the way, doesn't melt cold wax.
So, now I'm stuck to the bottom of the tub as though I had cement-epoxied myself to the porcelain!! God bless the man who had convinced me a few months ago to have a phone put in the bathroom!!!!!
I call my friend, thinking surely she has waxed before and has some secret of how to get me undone. It's a very good conversation starter - "So, my butt and who-ha are glued together to the bottom of the tub!"
There is a slight pause. She doesn't know any secret tricks for removal but she does try to hide her laughter from me. She wants to know exactly where the wax is located, "Are we talking cheeks or hole or who-ha?"
She's laughing out loud by now...I can hear her. I give her the rundown and she suggests I call the number on the side of the box. YEAH!!!!! Right!! I should be the joke of someone else's night.
While we go through various solutions. I resort to scraping the wax off with a razor. Nothing feels better then to have your girlie goodies covered in hot wax, glued shut, stuck to the tub in super hot water and then dry-shaving the sticky wax off!!
By now the brain is not working, dignity has taken a major hike and I'm pretty sure I'm going to need Post-Traumatic Stress counseling for this event.
My friend is still talking with me when I finally see my saving grace....the lotion they give you to remove the excess wax. What do I really have to lose at this point? I rub some on and OH MY GOODNESS!!!!!!!
The scream probably woke the kids and scared the dickens out of my friend. It's sooo painful, l but I really don't care. "IT WORKS!! It works!!" I get a hearty congratulation from my friend and she hangs up.
I successfully remove the remainder of the wax and then notice to my grief and despair....THE HAIR IS STILL THERE.......ALL OF IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!. So I recklessly shave it off. Heck, I'm numb by now. Nothing hurts. I could have amputated my own leg at this point.
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
Should I be concerned?
This is a label I found enclosed with a little plastic mat I use for cutting frames. I guess since I don't live in California and I don't intend to eat the mat, I can reserve my concern for something more important.
Has it really been a month?
Wow, how time flies. I haven't dumped the blog, I've just been quite busy. Not that it matters, since only about 5 people read this anyway (and 4 are relatives).
What's keeping me busy?
1.) Frame orders. I've been working on another order of 300.
2.) My real job. Selling bugs takes time.
3.) We are buying a house (my exciting news from a previous post). It is closer to work for both of us and Mr. B will have his own fenced yard to low-butt-run to his heart's desire.
4.) Relating to #3, I am trying to get the house packed. We move in less than a month and I refuse to procrastinate until the last minute (like I normally do).
I'll try to keep on top of my musings for my loyal fans. :)
What's keeping me busy?
1.) Frame orders. I've been working on another order of 300.
2.) My real job. Selling bugs takes time.
3.) We are buying a house (my exciting news from a previous post). It is closer to work for both of us and Mr. B will have his own fenced yard to low-butt-run to his heart's desire.
4.) Relating to #3, I am trying to get the house packed. We move in less than a month and I refuse to procrastinate until the last minute (like I normally do).
I'll try to keep on top of my musings for my loyal fans. :)
Friday, July 22, 2005
Oh, Please Stop!
A quote from Moviefone Guy on Headline News in reference to the new movie Hustle and Flow: "That movie is the shiznit and it will keep them krumping in the streets, yo." It pains me to hear (and see) people attempt to speak ill-fitting slang.
For those of you who can't translate this, he recommends the movie.
Update: 7/25/05
CK and I went to see this yesterday and Moviefone Guy was actually right on the mark (while being quite cheesy). CK posted a brief review on the fount.
For those of you who can't translate this, he recommends the movie.
Update: 7/25/05
CK and I went to see this yesterday and Moviefone Guy was actually right on the mark (while being quite cheesy). CK posted a brief review on the fount.
Sunday, July 17, 2005
Household Roles
Recently CK and I spent a night working on our hobbies. Both of us came away with residue from our hobby stuck under our fingernails. One of us had chocolate ganache remains and the other had wood stain. Stereotypes would place me slaving away in the kitchen and CK hard at work in the basement. Not so in our household.
When we got married, I secretly longed for the "Power Tool Party" that was thrown for CK. I was so excited to see what tools he reaped. He (I) got a circular saw, several ratchet sets, a power drill, a tool box, and oh, so much more! I could have done a happy dance seeing his (soon to be my) spoils! CK is the baker and chef in our house. Don't get me wrong, I cook, when I feel like it - which is rare. I do make a mean shrimp gumbo. If we decide on sandwiches, I am usually finished eating mine before he has even finished building his masterpiece.
I could spend hours browsing row by row of any hardware supercenter. CK on the other hand would much prefer the Beyond (kitchen wares) part of Bed, Bath, and Beyond. I could take an hour deciding on which laser tape measure I want; he could spend hours deciding on which pepper mill is better. I have burns and scars from hot glue guns and razors; CK has scars from hot ovens and sharp knives. Household roles are interesting.
When we got married, I secretly longed for the "Power Tool Party" that was thrown for CK. I was so excited to see what tools he reaped. He (I) got a circular saw, several ratchet sets, a power drill, a tool box, and oh, so much more! I could have done a happy dance seeing his (soon to be my) spoils! CK is the baker and chef in our house. Don't get me wrong, I cook, when I feel like it - which is rare. I do make a mean shrimp gumbo. If we decide on sandwiches, I am usually finished eating mine before he has even finished building his masterpiece.
I could spend hours browsing row by row of any hardware supercenter. CK on the other hand would much prefer the Beyond (kitchen wares) part of Bed, Bath, and Beyond. I could take an hour deciding on which laser tape measure I want; he could spend hours deciding on which pepper mill is better. I have burns and scars from hot glue guns and razors; CK has scars from hot ovens and sharp knives. Household roles are interesting.
Friday, July 15, 2005
I've turned into one of those people...
who order from HSN. I was trying to wake up yesterday and surfing the morning news when I passed the Home Shopping Network. On the screen was this man cutting glass, tile, marble, and much more with little or no effort.
Why sould I care? Because I spent the forth of July weekend cutting 100 tiny 1.5 inch eight sided mirrors for an order. While it wasn't too difficult, it looked much easier with his special tool. So, I ordered it yesterday. Will it exceed my expectations? Probably not. Will it meet my expectations? Probably not. Does it hurt to spend $20 to try it out? Probably not.
Why sould I care? Because I spent the forth of July weekend cutting 100 tiny 1.5 inch eight sided mirrors for an order. While it wasn't too difficult, it looked much easier with his special tool. So, I ordered it yesterday. Will it exceed my expectations? Probably not. Will it meet my expectations? Probably not. Does it hurt to spend $20 to try it out? Probably not.
I'm SO Excited!
And I just cant hide it...
But I can't blog about it yet. (No, Bamamammy, we are not yet providing you with grandchild number 7.)
But I can't blog about it yet. (No, Bamamammy, we are not yet providing you with grandchild number 7.)
Saturday, July 09, 2005
Hmmm.
I was channel surfing while I checked my email this AM and came across something interesting on QVC. I stopped because I was intrigued by the DVD camcorder. I was distracted because the guy presenting the camcorder was wearing a gold chain bracelet. Did I miss the moment where they announced it was acceptable for men to wear bracelets. Didn't they watch the Friends episode (Season 2, episode 38) where Joey gave Chandler a charm bracelet and it didn't end well.
Anyway...
Anyway...
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
Get your toy, Mr. B
Whenever we move from one floor to another floor around our house, you are bound to hear the phrase, "Get your toy, Mr. B". What follows is our dog, blog name Mr. B, frantically moving from one toy to another toy trying to decide which toy he wants to move to the upstairs/downstairs. This afternoon during his selection process, he mouthed a squeek hedghog (former favorite), moved on to the "skin" of a stuffed anteater, nosed a Kong, and settled on - with great delight - a... water bottle.
He has a toy bin on each floor FULL of toys. Dog toys aren't cheap, yet once a month when we make our run to the pet store for dog food I feel compelled to pick him up another toy. He dances with joy when we walk in the door with the bag (I assume he can smell the pet store). When he gets the toy, he low-butt-runs (as we call it) around the house as if that moment is the best moment of his life.
Over the last few months, he has decided that plastic water bottles are his new favorite. He is as excited to receive one of those (maybe more) as he is when he gets a new toy. Currently he has 5 within view from my seat here in the living room. Ocassionally he will get out of the other recliner and rediscover a bottle, L-B-running around with joy.
We pick up a case full of joy at "the Wal-mart" once a week...if only life for people were as simple.
He has a toy bin on each floor FULL of toys. Dog toys aren't cheap, yet once a month when we make our run to the pet store for dog food I feel compelled to pick him up another toy. He dances with joy when we walk in the door with the bag (I assume he can smell the pet store). When he gets the toy, he low-butt-runs (as we call it) around the house as if that moment is the best moment of his life.
Over the last few months, he has decided that plastic water bottles are his new favorite. He is as excited to receive one of those (maybe more) as he is when he gets a new toy. Currently he has 5 within view from my seat here in the living room. Ocassionally he will get out of the other recliner and rediscover a bottle, L-B-running around with joy.
We pick up a case full of joy at "the Wal-mart" once a week...if only life for people were as simple.
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
Monday, July 04, 2005
Marathon TV
Holiday weekends are notorious for marathon runs of popular TV shows. On Saturday I spent the entire day (from 9 am to 8 pm) watching The 4400 on USA Network. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't just sitting around wasting my day watching TV. While I watched I worked on an order for 400 frames that I have pending, so essentially I was getting paid to watch TV. I also wanted to see the first season of The 4400 because the show intrigued me and contrary to this post, I don't really watch that much TV. I recommend the show, I enjoy it almost as much as Lost.
Today, I am watching the marathon of Monk, also on USA. And, yes, I am still making frames. For those of you who aren't familiar with the show Monk, I will give a brief review. Monk is a former detective who is stricken with a severe case of obsessive/compulsive disorder. (Thus the former detective). The show revolves around Adrian Monk assisting in solving cases while working around his OCD. That said, CK and I enjoy the show. We don't watch it often because, as I said, we don't watch that much TV. I hate to admit how much Monk reminds me of CK - and myself. We aren't as extreme, but our kids (yet to be conceived) will probably have no hope.
An example of our issue(s) to amuse you: We have gone a few times to a restaurant that offers peanuts to be shelled and eaten while you wait for your meal. You are supposed to throw the shells on the floor, that is apparently the "fun" of eating the peanuts. CK and I will eat the peanuts and make a tidy pile of shells on the table until they bring the bread plates, then the peanut shells are quickly moved off the table and onto the plate. Neither one of us can force ourselves to throw the shells on the floor. We tried.
Today, I am watching the marathon of Monk, also on USA. And, yes, I am still making frames. For those of you who aren't familiar with the show Monk, I will give a brief review. Monk is a former detective who is stricken with a severe case of obsessive/compulsive disorder. (Thus the former detective). The show revolves around Adrian Monk assisting in solving cases while working around his OCD. That said, CK and I enjoy the show. We don't watch it often because, as I said, we don't watch that much TV. I hate to admit how much Monk reminds me of CK - and myself. We aren't as extreme, but our kids (yet to be conceived) will probably have no hope.
An example of our issue(s) to amuse you: We have gone a few times to a restaurant that offers peanuts to be shelled and eaten while you wait for your meal. You are supposed to throw the shells on the floor, that is apparently the "fun" of eating the peanuts. CK and I will eat the peanuts and make a tidy pile of shells on the table until they bring the bread plates, then the peanut shells are quickly moved off the table and onto the plate. Neither one of us can force ourselves to throw the shells on the floor. We tried.
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