I totally want to blog but the CFO is telling me to do my timesheets before I leave today.
BLEAH!
More later. Hopefully.
Month: April 2008 (Page 2 of 2)
We had a productive weekend – Friday night, we attended the BotaB3 – Battle of the Ad Bands, 3 – downtown, along with the pre-party that included unlimited beverages, pizza, and Guitar Hero. I did pretty well, though it’s really unnerving to do something familiar (play GH3) while a lot of people are watching you and the photographer is snapping 800 pictures of you.
As my co-worker (and bass player for our company band) put it, “Welcome to playing guitar in a band.” DUR.
Their band is “Love Tusk” and they deliver on what they promise: To rock your face off. I haven’t been so entertained since – I don’t know when! And the three Bacardi & Diet Cokes helped make everything amusing. (James was driving.) Because I :did: need a laugh or six – it had been a pretty grueling day, and I had a joyous project awaiting me at home.
The project, you ask? Tripper diarrhea, everywhere in the big carpeted room downstairs. Oatmeal carpeting, if you’re asking. Light. Not that I’d ignore dog poo and hope future guests would just ignore the lumps, but a darker-colored carpet would have certainly been less stressful. (It came with the house!)
I had gone downstairs Friday morning to grab something from the laundry room – of course, he followed, as it is against his religion to be separated from you if you leave the main floor, and in the two minutes I was down there, he had an Accident of Epic Proportions. Foulness. And I was already running late. So all I could do was fight my gag reflex and shrug – it’s not like the poop was going to roll around by itself. Sigh.
So I bought myself a mack-daddy Bissell on Saturday at Target. I’ve always skimped in the past, gotten some smaller device that promised undeliverable miracles, and since the last device was stolen in the burglary, we’d never replaced it. It hadn’t cleaned the stains anyway. Sigh. Little did I know. I had finally made the right move.
This machine not only got all the diarrhea stain out (and believe-you-me, I went into this project skeptical AND heavily armed: gloves, numerous plastic bags, paper towels). It also got out the 4-year old urine stain from when Polly had peed right in front of the door and we’d unsuccessfully tried to get it out. (We gave up and put a small entry rug over it.) So. I’m happy with it. I did about half the stairs going up to the second level, and I can’t wait to tackle the other stains up there. Joy from a carpet cleaner, crazy, I know! I used their expensive Pet & Soil cleaner (I figured what the hell, at that point.) My brain had been thinking we’d have to pay someone professional to come in (and what a PITA that would be, not to mention, NOT CHEAP). So I still feel like it was all worth it. Not that I’m anxious to use it again on any poopy accidents! Bleah!
I also got a TON of DPN holders made this weekend (my lord, if you knitters are still reading me, what fortitude and patience and strong stomachs! Thank you!) and I’ll get them up in my Etsy shop in the very near future. Yay! Now, I’m off to hang with the Sock Club ladies at The Studio, and I should stop singing out loud at my desk because, well, I am NOT ALONE here. Just further cementing everyone’s unspoken opinion that I’m utterly crazy. But fun! Crazy and fun. Now, equipped with a mack-daddy cleaning device. And available as a groupie for the Love Tuskers when needed.
Well, it’s a gloomy day here in Kansas City, spitting rain and overcast. After meeting a couple of pals down at LuLu’s for lunch, I really wanted some comfort coffee. I came to this realization partway back to the office, so I pulled into -yes- the megalopolis Starbucks. As I did this, another vehicle entered towards the drive-thru, but stopped to let me go. The guy could’ve been a real jackass and cut me off, but he didn’t, and I was struck, a bit, by the notion of doing one of those Random Acts Of Kindness all the bloggers like to write about, and challenge others to do, but I never do them because I don’t want to do something because I’ve been challenged to do it, but rather I want to do it because it really feels like the right thing to do. Sometimes my heart is a tiny lump of coal, ya know? And maybe my shoes are too tight. ;) And drivers sometimes just bite. Or life is so busy and filled up it’s easy to forget to do something extra when you’re worried about forgetting the next six things you need to do today. (To her credit, the first place I really started reading about this regularly, Sheri at the Loopy Ewe has to be the kindest person alive, I swear. She does RaoKs all the time and makes the world a better place. Me? I am usually screaming at people from the safe bubble inside Mimi Murano about their horrid driving.)
So I put in my order – nonfat Venti Cafe Mocha, and cave for the whip, because hell, I just made the dang thing nonfat, why not have a sweet li’l whip on top? And pull around to pay. A very nice, hippie-sorta dude leans out the window as I explain that I want to pay for my drink, as well as the guy-behind-me’s drink, because he was so nice to not cut me off and I’m blathering about being random, and I’m a little worried he thinks I’m not only crazy but I’m stalking the guy behind me (how hard would that be?) and instead, he nods and takes my card, and says something about how the guy behind me got the same drink I did. (Crazy! And super ESP for a stalker, I’d say!) The windows close, and I see him talking to the barista making our drinks, and then he swipes my card & comes back, and hands me my receipt. And says, “You paid for his drink, but I paid for yours, because you were being nice.” And I kinda open-mouth fish gaped and then had the where-with-all to remember to tip him.
Now, I love the independent coffee shops. I met my husband in one, we got engaged there four years later, and I always feel a twinge guilty when I give my money to the 800-pound gorilla. But – but – geeze. What a nice thing to do, and the guy behind me followed me out to the stop sign & honked & waved, and we all went on with our days, a little happier and reminded of the fact that a little kindness and generosity go a long way, no matter what’s going on in the world.
And, I guess it shows that even big mega-corporations can have a soul if they hire the right people, hm?
My doctor’s office had apparently not updated much of my records over the past few years – they had my old employer & phone number, and so I was leaning over the counter talking to the front desk lady (who’s been there forever, too, and knows me by name), answering questions as she went through her screen. It all seemed kind of funny, like all these things from three years ago – or ten – that I hadn’t thought about in so long. Then, “Emergency contact still Rick?” as she looked up at me from her keyboard, and I found myself gaping like a fish suddenly removed from its aqueous environment. Uh, Rick? That’s my dad. He’d always been my emergency contact, my whole life, until I married James, and even then, we’ve always joked that he’d totally be pulling the plug on me within five minutes. (I still trust him with my life, but I have stressed the need to MAKE SURE heroic measures had at least been attempted first!) In any event, my mind raced because part of me didn’t want to change it, to cling to another corner of my life somehow untouched or sullied by his death, but then the practical side of me woke up and stepped in and had her change it to James. But I’m putting it in writing right here, right now, that there is no plug-pulling unless a team of doctors give me no chance at all. (And I’m also going to point out I’ve had this running joke long before Will Ferrell did it in Talladega Nights!)
I was delighted to get linked on Stephanie Japel’s blog for my DPN holders! I already have a couple people who want to be alerted when my stock is replenished – if you’re interested, leave a comment or email me at plazajen AT gmail (dot com, of course). I’ve got an etsy account & shop setup, but no goods to hang in the windows! Soon, though, very soon, I promise.
On daily life, it’s been an interesting couple of days – the Royals home opener was yesterday, and it was horrid weather. I skipped the game, but got my fill of the spirit by tailgating – plenty of fresh air, bbq smoke, and officemate camaraderie (oh and gusting, freezing winds and rain). This morning was my annual doctor’s appointment (I always hear the song, “Back in the Saddle Again”, in my head when I’m getting ready to head over there for that appointment….) My doctor is not even 5′ tall, a little Vietnamese bundle of energy, and I adore her. We talked knitting, and she just had a baby last year, so we also talked parenting skills/style (I figure three dogs count for something) and also James’ teaching experiences contribute to the conversation. Hey. Anything to ignore what’s going on, I say. They have an awesome phlebotomist at the office, but sadly, she didn’t quite get all the alcohol wiped off my arm before starting the draw… I’ve never had that happen before. I tried not to overreact, especially with a needle in my arm, but I finally said, “So…..should it be burning like that?” It subsided eventually, but she was concerned and asked me several questions to make sure it wasn’t something else. Finally, I said, ok, am I in danger of my blood leaking and filling up my arm? (I was trying to imagine what the absolute worst case scenario would be.) The answer, fortunately, was “no.” (It would have started to happen already. Gulp. I thought I was coming up with an impossible scenario…)
So now I have some crazy work projects to knock out, and a few things to get crossed off my to-do list so I stop the maddening cycle of “OH YEAH – I’ve GOT to get that done” and then promptly forgetting to do it. In fact, I keep hopping out of this box to do other things & then I remember, “DUH! I didn’t hit ‘Post’!” Welcome to my world. At least it isn’t boring!
I knew the Studio was taking a bunch of my DPN holders to Knitting in the Heartland – and while I was buoyed by the fact they bought my entire inventory, I was stricken on Saturday by the thought, “What if nobody buys them?” So, it was very exciting on Sunday to come home and have a message from Carmen on the answering machine, telling me that THE celebrity-author KitH teacher, Stephanie Japel herself, had just bought all my devil duckies because all her friends at home were knitting socks!!!! Woohoo! And then James spent half the weekend outside in the greenhouse, tutoring people on the finer points of gardening and growing tomatoes, and he sold quite a few plants.
Now I’m nursing a headache that I woke up with this morning, and wrangling snakes. Metaphorically speaking, of course. It’s definitely a Monday!
There’s no way I can recap everything that’s been going on. Suffice it to say that the highlight of my week has been hearing the story of a guy who left his personal copy of “Balls Deep” in his work laptop, unaware his computer was being taken by IT while he was being laid-off. (Said movie is not about soccer. Or volleyball.) That and the story of another person who was in a freak yachting accident in Venezuela that left her unable to walk, and they had to use a scissors-lift to help her board the plane & it got stuck. I haven’t laughed so hard since I-don’t-know-when.
We did discover that Tripper also is not a fan of Jane’s Addiction. Specifically “Been Caught Stealin'” – the song starts with dogs barking, and he went all over the yard barking and looking for the interlopers. I missed it, because I was out drinking with a veritable gaggle of former co-workers, swapping war stories and laughing at other people’s expense. (Isn’t that the best currency?)
Oh – and file this under “Like I Needed More Stuff To Do” – I started making double-pointed needle holders. Mostly because I was going nuts with this tie I was knitting for James, and the stitches kept slipping off while I was toting the project around in my bag. Because things with me tend to take on levels of grand proportions, I suddenly found myself, mid-week, in the throes of mass-production. (They are simple to make? But they take time. And drilling. And patience!) Turns out, I’m on to something here, and I sold my first batch to The Studio. I’m going to make more, and depending on interest, put them on Etsy as well. I’ll yammer about it more when the time comes! But they’re super cute, and I’m calling my little bidness “Wants & Kneeds” (so don’t steal the name, it’s now under creative licensing copywrite, m0fos) They are “Quirky Panaceas for the Avid Knitter” and I have the line from my dad on the back: “It’s better to have, than to want.” It feels nice including him on it, in a funny way. And now we have two cottage industries running amok at our house – knitting stuffs and tomato and pepper plants! 
TGIF! The weekend’s always short, so have fun!!!
We’ve established a few things that really set Tripper off. Turns out, the list is growing. Daily.
1. Cowboys. We know it’s either cowboys, or Josh Brolin. Fortunately, we don’t get a lot of cowboys through our south siiiide neighborhood, nor do we watch a lot of westerns. And as far as I know, Josh Brolin doesn’t cruise by regularly.
2. Stranger Danger. This is not unusual, and all three dogs have this trigger.
3. Spacial Distance of One Single Story. If Tripper’s in his crate, and I have to run upstairs or go downstairs to the basement? He, simply put, loses his shit. Bizzonkers with barking. No matter how much I yell at him or return to provide negative stimulus. He used to be afraid of stairs, and now he’s just beside himself with crazy if he can’t go with you.
4. Large Yellow Trash Bags. Specifically, large yellow trash bags, full of trash, put out the night before. Normally, we put our trash out in the morning (“we” is “JWo”) because otherwise you might end up with critters strewing it all over the yard. But if there’s no food stuffs or scraps in the bags, James will put them out the night before – and he’d done a fair amount of cleaning up outside, and we had several bags of trash that he put out front. Tripper? DOES NOT APPROVE. He barked at them every time he saw them through the breezeway door.
5. This last one – and surely, it will not BE the last, but it’s the last one for today – is Tripper himself. After James left for work, I was getting ready to put on my makeup, and in a bold and sudden move, Tripper put his paws up on the bathroom counter and stood up, right next to me. My mouth was open in shock, and before I had a moment to react (and yell, and push him down), he caught sight of himself in the large mirror. Oh. Mah. God. He was SO PISSED. And I couldn’t stop laughing, and so we had this crazy mix of bad behavior not getting corrected and of course, after I shooed him down, I let him do it again just for the laughs (though I took his paws off the counter and put them on my arm, like I used to do with my dog when I was a kid.) And then he showed an inordinate interest in my makeup, so perhaps he wants to be a little drag queen. He was barking because he wanted to be pretty!
It’s the Crazy Cat Lady, from Archie McPhee. And Archie McPhee is like, the greatest site ever. I had to call this morning because they’d forgotten my Bacon Pennant. I did, however,get two boxes of Double Monkey Gum, gratis. And they promised to ship my bacon flag pronto.
(None of this is a joke. However, to really look like our Crazy Cat Lady Neighbor, the action figurine needs to go on a meth diet, and she would also have an add-on accessory pack entitled “Cop Cars and Bambalances, for Nighttime Drama”.)
Google has created “Custom Time“, so you can back-date/time stamp your emails to people and never be late again! Too, too funny.
More later, but this cracked me up this morning!