(no subject)
11/14/05
Slow Adult Playing Boardgames
I just figured out why I’m not getting rich. I’m fucking retarded. I just finished playing a game called Tri-Bond with my three step-kids. The object of the game is to find three things that share a common trait. An example:
Ex: Canvas, Ropes, Jab
Answer: Boxing
The game presents itself as a challenging boardgame that is suitable for children between the ages of 7-12. I lost.
__________
11/15/05
Furnishing the New Place
I was going to bitch about going four days without cable and internet, but instead I'll bitch about furniture stores. What sick son of a bitches thought that having 13 local funeral homes was more relevant to the UNDEAD than only three furniture stores? Something's not right here. Is everyone furnishing their homes from estate sales? I mean, what the fuck! You walk into one store and it carries the same exact shit as the other store. How about some diversity, huh? Can we get some of that? Just a little. C'mon. Pretty, please? Jesus.
Furnishing this place is really going to be a challenge. Not only is this house, um..FUCKING HUGE, but my husband and I have TOTALLY different taste in home decor. If it were completely up to me--Panton/Eames/Pop-Art shit with an African art vibe. My husband seems to be into the rustic look and mideval stuff. Hmm...Keith Harring prints, African wood people, and swords. 'Nuff said.
__________
11/17/05
Dust-Bunnies, Crumbs, and Dog Hair, Oh MY!
Can someone suddenly develop an obsessive compulsive disorder overnight? I can’t stop sweeping! Everywhere I look I see a speck of dog hair. Who the hell am I? This sort of stuff never bothered me in the past. But now that every floor throughout the house is wood, I notice EVERYTHING. It’s driving me fucking crazy. The other day (despite the fact that it was snowing) I seriously contemplated on shaving my dog bald. “No seriously, you’d look good bald,” I tried to convince him. He wasn’t hearing it. He wanted an Alpo dog treat and a blanket to snuggle in. Haircuts are for pussies.
__________
11/18/05
When I Meet the Neighbors
Today we’re going to talk about removing cat hair from the drapes and ceiling-fan blades in my new home. Cat hair isn’t exactly elegant. I shouldn't discuss this when meeting the neighbors. It doesn’t make for an exciting conversational piece with bourgeois Canadians. Imagining:
Me: Ya’ see that cat hair over there?
Neighbor: Yeah. What about it?
Me: The people who used to live here had a cat.
Neighbor: Oh.
So you see, it’s very dull. Now if you really want to excite socially prominent people in your new community, you discuss the lives of those who lived in the house before you. Make shit up if you have to.
Me: See that chord hanging from the beam in the loft?
Neighbor: Yeah. What about it?
Me: Kinky asphyxiation freaks. They both did themselves in right there (point to the lonely cord in the loft and smile). We really got this place for a steal!
Neighbor: Oh (horrified look).
Unfortunately, asphyxiation-related deaths do not permit socially prominent people to have elaborate charity functions. I guess I won’t be shmoozing at any cocktail parties with the “sophisticated” locals. Boo-hoo.
_________
11/19/05
Everything Must be Perfect!
When you have a giant tub surrounded by mirrors, it’s kind of exciting. Unless you’re the person who has to Windex the mirrors after everyone splashes around. I’d say that the bathroom is my favorite room in the house. It’s not a crazy bright bathroom that makes you want to vomit. I hate those! Whenever I see a pink bathroom with little frilly tissue covers and toilet paper holders--I start planning my departure from wherever I am. Not this bathroom. It’s comfortably dim. No linoleum (thank God) to be found in this bathroom, or anywhere in this house for that matter.
The location of this house is perfect. It’s quiet--but it’s a stone’s throw from a semi-urban location. Jesus, my concept of “urban” is completely shot to shit nowadays. I see graffiti and say aloud “this looks like a bad neighborhood.” Damn it, I was a New Yorker for 23 years! Who would have thought I’d ever settle down and become such a goodie-goodie?
Since I’ve started to settle in this past week, I notice that I’m becoming more and more like my mother. I hate to admit it, but it’s true. I keep organizing things in the most ridiculous ways. I haven’t gone completely off the wall yet, though. Stay tuned to see if I start putting out soap dispensers “for show.” And if that happens--sedate me.
_________
11/20/05
What a Day!
What he had in mind was a fun and spontaneous walk along the river’s edge. What my step-son returned home with was a dog with thorns attached to his little-red-rocket. How the dog got a thorn-branch attached his “pee-pee-man” is unfathomable.
So there I am sweeping the stairs that lead to the backdoor of our house, and here comes Matthew and Pepino walking up the hill. Matthew is sporting an ear to ear grin. Oh brother, here we go. Now I start pondering: Do I stop sweeping the stairs and remove the thorns from Pepino’s prick or do I leave the task for my husband? Guess who continued to sweep the stairs.
In the meantime: The 'Ready' light on this modem keeps blinking. Apparently, our Internet Service Provider is an equal opportunity employer. Thus far, everyone I've spoken with from this company has brain damage.
Me: Do you think it's a programming issue or a hardware issue?
Customer Service Rep: Technical Support would have to address that issue Mam (Strike One: he addressed me as "Mam").
Me: How can I reach Tech support?
Customer Service Rep: Technically I am a qualified TSA. (Strike Two: TSA? What the fuck is that? An acronym for Technically Slow Asshole?)
Me: Okay, so do you think the conflict is a programming conflict or a hardware problem?
Customer Service Rep: I don't know. I'm just as acting Tech Support Admin. I can have Tech support call you to resolve the problem.
Me: sddufs psuep ouisovj p8dfg dg45td. (Strike Three: ACTING Tech support Admin??? Did I call the Screen Actor's Guild?) Okay.
Waiting one hour, two hours, three hourse. Ah, but of course--nobody's calling!
I just want to bite these people in the face! Then there's the calm voice of my father on the phoneline: "Rome wasn't built in one day. Things take time" Well, I'd hardly consider myself a Roman, and I don't expect some sorry son of a bitch to feed me grapes either. I just want to check my Hotmail for fuck's sake!
Slow Adult Playing Boardgames
I just figured out why I’m not getting rich. I’m fucking retarded. I just finished playing a game called Tri-Bond with my three step-kids. The object of the game is to find three things that share a common trait. An example:
Ex: Canvas, Ropes, Jab
Answer: Boxing
The game presents itself as a challenging boardgame that is suitable for children between the ages of 7-12. I lost.
__________
11/15/05
Furnishing the New Place
I was going to bitch about going four days without cable and internet, but instead I'll bitch about furniture stores. What sick son of a bitches thought that having 13 local funeral homes was more relevant to the UNDEAD than only three furniture stores? Something's not right here. Is everyone furnishing their homes from estate sales? I mean, what the fuck! You walk into one store and it carries the same exact shit as the other store. How about some diversity, huh? Can we get some of that? Just a little. C'mon. Pretty, please? Jesus.
Furnishing this place is really going to be a challenge. Not only is this house, um..FUCKING HUGE, but my husband and I have TOTALLY different taste in home decor. If it were completely up to me--Panton/Eames/Pop-Art shit with an African art vibe. My husband seems to be into the rustic look and mideval stuff. Hmm...Keith Harring prints, African wood people, and swords. 'Nuff said.
__________
11/17/05
Dust-Bunnies, Crumbs, and Dog Hair, Oh MY!
Can someone suddenly develop an obsessive compulsive disorder overnight? I can’t stop sweeping! Everywhere I look I see a speck of dog hair. Who the hell am I? This sort of stuff never bothered me in the past. But now that every floor throughout the house is wood, I notice EVERYTHING. It’s driving me fucking crazy. The other day (despite the fact that it was snowing) I seriously contemplated on shaving my dog bald. “No seriously, you’d look good bald,” I tried to convince him. He wasn’t hearing it. He wanted an Alpo dog treat and a blanket to snuggle in. Haircuts are for pussies.
__________
11/18/05
When I Meet the Neighbors
Today we’re going to talk about removing cat hair from the drapes and ceiling-fan blades in my new home. Cat hair isn’t exactly elegant. I shouldn't discuss this when meeting the neighbors. It doesn’t make for an exciting conversational piece with bourgeois Canadians. Imagining:
Me: Ya’ see that cat hair over there?
Neighbor: Yeah. What about it?
Me: The people who used to live here had a cat.
Neighbor: Oh.
So you see, it’s very dull. Now if you really want to excite socially prominent people in your new community, you discuss the lives of those who lived in the house before you. Make shit up if you have to.
Me: See that chord hanging from the beam in the loft?
Neighbor: Yeah. What about it?
Me: Kinky asphyxiation freaks. They both did themselves in right there (point to the lonely cord in the loft and smile). We really got this place for a steal!
Neighbor: Oh (horrified look).
Unfortunately, asphyxiation-related deaths do not permit socially prominent people to have elaborate charity functions. I guess I won’t be shmoozing at any cocktail parties with the “sophisticated” locals. Boo-hoo.
_________
11/19/05
Everything Must be Perfect!
When you have a giant tub surrounded by mirrors, it’s kind of exciting. Unless you’re the person who has to Windex the mirrors after everyone splashes around. I’d say that the bathroom is my favorite room in the house. It’s not a crazy bright bathroom that makes you want to vomit. I hate those! Whenever I see a pink bathroom with little frilly tissue covers and toilet paper holders--I start planning my departure from wherever I am. Not this bathroom. It’s comfortably dim. No linoleum (thank God) to be found in this bathroom, or anywhere in this house for that matter.
The location of this house is perfect. It’s quiet--but it’s a stone’s throw from a semi-urban location. Jesus, my concept of “urban” is completely shot to shit nowadays. I see graffiti and say aloud “this looks like a bad neighborhood.” Damn it, I was a New Yorker for 23 years! Who would have thought I’d ever settle down and become such a goodie-goodie?
Since I’ve started to settle in this past week, I notice that I’m becoming more and more like my mother. I hate to admit it, but it’s true. I keep organizing things in the most ridiculous ways. I haven’t gone completely off the wall yet, though. Stay tuned to see if I start putting out soap dispensers “for show.” And if that happens--sedate me.
_________
11/20/05
What a Day!
What he had in mind was a fun and spontaneous walk along the river’s edge. What my step-son returned home with was a dog with thorns attached to his little-red-rocket. How the dog got a thorn-branch attached his “pee-pee-man” is unfathomable.
So there I am sweeping the stairs that lead to the backdoor of our house, and here comes Matthew and Pepino walking up the hill. Matthew is sporting an ear to ear grin. Oh brother, here we go. Now I start pondering: Do I stop sweeping the stairs and remove the thorns from Pepino’s prick or do I leave the task for my husband? Guess who continued to sweep the stairs.
In the meantime: The 'Ready' light on this modem keeps blinking. Apparently, our Internet Service Provider is an equal opportunity employer. Thus far, everyone I've spoken with from this company has brain damage.
Me: Do you think it's a programming issue or a hardware issue?
Customer Service Rep: Technical Support would have to address that issue Mam (Strike One: he addressed me as "Mam").
Me: How can I reach Tech support?
Customer Service Rep: Technically I am a qualified TSA. (Strike Two: TSA? What the fuck is that? An acronym for Technically Slow Asshole?)
Me: Okay, so do you think the conflict is a programming conflict or a hardware problem?
Customer Service Rep: I don't know. I'm just as acting Tech Support Admin. I can have Tech support call you to resolve the problem.
Me: sddufs psuep ouisovj p8dfg dg45td. (Strike Three: ACTING Tech support Admin??? Did I call the Screen Actor's Guild?) Okay.
Waiting one hour, two hours, three hourse. Ah, but of course--nobody's calling!
I just want to bite these people in the face! Then there's the calm voice of my father on the phoneline: "Rome wasn't built in one day. Things take time" Well, I'd hardly consider myself a Roman, and I don't expect some sorry son of a bitch to feed me grapes either. I just want to check my Hotmail for fuck's sake!