listening to: the cool breeze outside
Whiskey is: smelling the aloe vera
Got the mail today and in it was a flyer from the anti-choice, anit-gay, anti-sex eductation, anti-porn, anti-nonChristian religions shoot anyone who's different pinched face needs to be fucked up the ass rePUBlican. I called the number on the flyer and very politely said I didn't want to receive any more of his propoganda and please remove me from your mailing list. The cow(his wife) who answered the phone hung up on me. Can you believe that shit?
Kevin was telling me that he gets all sorts of weird phone calls from supporters and militant conservatives alike and he listens to all of them. Or at least the ones that keep their language clean. I was very polite but did she ask me to repeat my address? no. Or how to spell my name? no. Or that I wouldn't be receiving anymore trees who died in vein in my mail box? no.
In the flyer was a picture of his wholesome family of a daughter and son (who's body language suggested he wanted to be standing as far from his dad as possible) along with a cat that looked damn unhappy to be there.
Came home for dinner and to let the dog out. Heading back to work for another few hours so I can get enough done so I don't have to work this weekend.
Tuesday, October 26, 2004
Sunday, October 24, 2004
smeared
Kevin is running for office. He ran about 10 yrs ago but didn't make it for whatever reason. When we were dating I asked him if he'd ever run again and he said he probably wouldn't because he thought the other side might take his divorce and use it against him.
Three years later I round the corner and see a campaign sign with a familiar name on it. A quick instant message confirmed that it was him. A few weeks later his campaign manager comes over with a stack of returned postcards and access to a statewide database of voters. I go through the postcards and mark the names as bad addresses. Scott is none too happy about this.
earlier this month I get an email from Scott while I'm at work and he says he returned home from the parts store and saw a sign in the yard from 'my boyfriend' that went immediately into the trash. I call Kevin. He said his volunteer team must have done that. Since those signs are $5 each to produce he asked if I could salvage it. It wasn't damaged and I put it in my trunk. The next day Scott asked why it wasn't in the trash where he put it.
Yesterday as I was coming home from the dogpark with Whiskey I call Kevin and ask if I could drop it off. We stand in the driveway and chat for a few minutes. He told me that his opponent is doing a literature drop of Kevin's divorce and is slanting it in a horrible way. The divorce wasn't bitter, they grew apart. He's still friend with his ex who lives in the same neighborhood and endorses his run for office.
The opponent went on a 5 week vacation after the runoffs. When he came back all his signs were gone. He blamed Kevin, but the city took them down because they were in the right-of-way and they couldn't get a hold of him to move them. Kevin went out and took pictures of them in a dumpster that the city uses when they pick up trash like that.
The opponent has since put up homemade signs that say 'integrity matters'.
listening to: the dishwasher
reading: Count of Monte Cristo
Whiskey is: chewing on his canvas man
Three years later I round the corner and see a campaign sign with a familiar name on it. A quick instant message confirmed that it was him. A few weeks later his campaign manager comes over with a stack of returned postcards and access to a statewide database of voters. I go through the postcards and mark the names as bad addresses. Scott is none too happy about this.
earlier this month I get an email from Scott while I'm at work and he says he returned home from the parts store and saw a sign in the yard from 'my boyfriend' that went immediately into the trash. I call Kevin. He said his volunteer team must have done that. Since those signs are $5 each to produce he asked if I could salvage it. It wasn't damaged and I put it in my trunk. The next day Scott asked why it wasn't in the trash where he put it.
Yesterday as I was coming home from the dogpark with Whiskey I call Kevin and ask if I could drop it off. We stand in the driveway and chat for a few minutes. He told me that his opponent is doing a literature drop of Kevin's divorce and is slanting it in a horrible way. The divorce wasn't bitter, they grew apart. He's still friend with his ex who lives in the same neighborhood and endorses his run for office.
The opponent went on a 5 week vacation after the runoffs. When he came back all his signs were gone. He blamed Kevin, but the city took them down because they were in the right-of-way and they couldn't get a hold of him to move them. Kevin went out and took pictures of them in a dumpster that the city uses when they pick up trash like that.
The opponent has since put up homemade signs that say 'integrity matters'.
listening to: the dishwasher
reading: Count of Monte Cristo
Whiskey is: chewing on his canvas man
Saturday, October 23, 2004
debating
Don't know if I should do the nanowrimo thing this year. I tried it 2 years ago. Don't remember what I wrote, but I think my word count was around 500. Kinda pitiful, but it was all I could manage considering I was working on catalog at the time.
Working on catalog now. It's due at the publishers 10 Nov, but I only have 32 pages to do, 10 of those are table of contents. There is another 100-150 pages of indexing to do, but I'll get help on that so it shouldn't be a problem.
Mom called today and I told her about the weasle getting fired. She was kinda upset that they didn't offer me the promotion considering I'll be there 5 years next month. Uh, no. My first supervisor was fired because he did his job which made some people have to do their job and they didn't like that. The weasle got fired because he did a half-ass job, when he actually did anything. No. Thank. You.
Once catalog is done, the new supervisor is settled in and things return to what can be called normal, I'm going to see if I can't move over to design development or software and get out of graphics. I don't do anything creative in there. Probably won't get a raise.
Am thinking about submitting artwork for next season's licensed collections. Of course if I'm still working here I'll submit under a psydonymn. If they knew right off that it was mine, they would not pay me as much for it or say, 'since you work here, just let us use it for free'. bullshit.
One of our artists created some designs that are now being endorsed by a famous entertainer. I was handed a thick folder of stuff as I was doing some of the packaging. In it was her contract. We're paying her $100,000 to put her name and face on this product. $20,000 of it was in advance. Our artist probably gets $12 an hour and worked over two months on that project. But we could either sell it for $45 or slap a famous face and name on it and sell it for $69. All hail the almighty dollar.
And the way the packaging reads, it sounds like she designed and created these herself. She didn't. We sent a bunch to her, she approved the ones she liked, was photographed with them and had us touch up an ad because she (or her handlers) thought it made her butt look big.
Working on catalog now. It's due at the publishers 10 Nov, but I only have 32 pages to do, 10 of those are table of contents. There is another 100-150 pages of indexing to do, but I'll get help on that so it shouldn't be a problem.
Mom called today and I told her about the weasle getting fired. She was kinda upset that they didn't offer me the promotion considering I'll be there 5 years next month. Uh, no. My first supervisor was fired because he did his job which made some people have to do their job and they didn't like that. The weasle got fired because he did a half-ass job, when he actually did anything. No. Thank. You.
Once catalog is done, the new supervisor is settled in and things return to what can be called normal, I'm going to see if I can't move over to design development or software and get out of graphics. I don't do anything creative in there. Probably won't get a raise.
Am thinking about submitting artwork for next season's licensed collections. Of course if I'm still working here I'll submit under a psydonymn. If they knew right off that it was mine, they would not pay me as much for it or say, 'since you work here, just let us use it for free'. bullshit.
One of our artists created some designs that are now being endorsed by a famous entertainer. I was handed a thick folder of stuff as I was doing some of the packaging. In it was her contract. We're paying her $100,000 to put her name and face on this product. $20,000 of it was in advance. Our artist probably gets $12 an hour and worked over two months on that project. But we could either sell it for $45 or slap a famous face and name on it and sell it for $69. All hail the almighty dollar.
And the way the packaging reads, it sounds like she designed and created these herself. She didn't. We sent a bunch to her, she approved the ones she liked, was photographed with them and had us touch up an ad because she (or her handlers) thought it made her butt look big.
Friday, October 22, 2004
checking in
My weasely boss finally got fired yesterday. Was it his fuck-ups? no. Did they get tired of his endless and totally transparent brown-nosing? no. Did they ask him to pee in a cup? yes. Three days later he was gone. It's common knowledge that him and one of the guys in the art dept smoke their lunch. When they were called in together for a 'random' drug test the artist looked scared. Someone overheard both of them in the hall saying they didn't have to go. The artist eventually went then later was seen going into his supervisor's office shutting the door and they were in there whispering for quite awhile. (The walls for most of the offices don't go all the way to the ceiling so nothing is private really). The weasle however was tracked down no less than 4 times asking if he had to go. Finally he was told, go or else.
The artist is still employed, the weasel isn't. I do feel bad for his wife and 3 kids though. They've been looking at houses the last few weeks.
Whiskey graduated puppy class. He's around 55 lbs now and is 8 1/2 months old.
Still living with Scott.
Have managed to save a few thousand dollars since moving in with him. Although if you walked in here you'd never know I did live here. Last month I asked him if I could have a shelf of his built in bookcase to put my books, figurines on. The first thing he said was, 'Where am I going to put my stuff that's there now?'
'if you don't want me to have it, just say so'
'what are you going to put on there?'
' I don't know. books, maybe a cow or two. if you find some papers put them there and I'll sort through them'
'I don't want you to clutter it up with junk'
'I'm not planning on it, I just want somewhere to put my books and magazines to get them off the coffee table'
'are you going to put books or junk on there?'
This went back and forth until I told him I wanted to put clutter there so I could end the conversation.
About three quarters of my stuff is still in boxes in the spare room. The rest is in storage. As I have time I've been going through the boxes and throwing out stuff and repacking and labeling the boxes. He wants me to stay for quite awhile, but I feel very temporary here.
The artist is still employed, the weasel isn't. I do feel bad for his wife and 3 kids though. They've been looking at houses the last few weeks.
Whiskey graduated puppy class. He's around 55 lbs now and is 8 1/2 months old.
Still living with Scott.
Have managed to save a few thousand dollars since moving in with him. Although if you walked in here you'd never know I did live here. Last month I asked him if I could have a shelf of his built in bookcase to put my books, figurines on. The first thing he said was, 'Where am I going to put my stuff that's there now?'
'if you don't want me to have it, just say so'
'what are you going to put on there?'
' I don't know. books, maybe a cow or two. if you find some papers put them there and I'll sort through them'
'I don't want you to clutter it up with junk'
'I'm not planning on it, I just want somewhere to put my books and magazines to get them off the coffee table'
'are you going to put books or junk on there?'
This went back and forth until I told him I wanted to put clutter there so I could end the conversation.
About three quarters of my stuff is still in boxes in the spare room. The rest is in storage. As I have time I've been going through the boxes and throwing out stuff and repacking and labeling the boxes. He wants me to stay for quite awhile, but I feel very temporary here.
Thursday, July 22, 2004
The little old lady in accounting was fired yesterday at 6pm after working a full day. They like to do that where I work. Fire you after putting in a full 8 hour day. They also like to wait until you come back from vacation and fire you at the end of your first day back. She was quiet and very friendly. If someone consistantly screws up their job word gets around, especially in a small company of about 50 employees. No one ever heard or said a bad word about her. Not good for morale. Not good at all.
In puppy news, which I'm sure you're sick of hearing about, Whiskey is practicing hiking a leg when he goes out for a whiz. Not every time he goes out, but I'd say 1 in 5 trips. It's so funny because he'll raise it a bit and he'll wobble to keep his balance. One day he was feeling very confident and hiked that back leg as high as it'll go. But that honor only went to the last few drops.
I'm sitting here telling you about my dogs latest bathroom habits. I need to get a life.
In puppy news, which I'm sure you're sick of hearing about, Whiskey is practicing hiking a leg when he goes out for a whiz. Not every time he goes out, but I'd say 1 in 5 trips. It's so funny because he'll raise it a bit and he'll wobble to keep his balance. One day he was feeling very confident and hiked that back leg as high as it'll go. But that honor only went to the last few drops.
I'm sitting here telling you about my dogs latest bathroom habits. I need to get a life.
Wednesday, July 14, 2004
A pedigreed mutt
I checked out a puppy/dog training class today. It was very odd to be in a large room with 30+ dogs and not one that was barking, running wild or pissing everywhere. I was there for half an hour and only heard 2 barks. One was when I was outside walking toward an open door wondering if I was in the right place. The other one was from a dog in the beginning class that didn't want to 'stay'.
The next puppy class starts in mid-August. I'm mailing out my application sometime this week since I have to go to the vet's and have her sign a statement that my pup has all necessary shots and that they are current.
On the form it (of course) asks for the dog's name. Whiskey. Then it asks for the breed. When people as me I say 'mix' or 'mutt' but I don't like the sound of either one. So I listed his breed as "North American Short-Haired Hybrid Standard."
The next puppy class starts in mid-August. I'm mailing out my application sometime this week since I have to go to the vet's and have her sign a statement that my pup has all necessary shots and that they are current.
On the form it (of course) asks for the dog's name. Whiskey. Then it asks for the breed. When people as me I say 'mix' or 'mutt' but I don't like the sound of either one. So I listed his breed as "North American Short-Haired Hybrid Standard."
Friday, July 09, 2004
my dog is an addict
When I brought Whiskey home he had a vet's appointment within the hour. He was full of worms which I expected. Since he was small, sick and weak it wasn't much of a problem to hold him and squirt de-wormer down his throat.
Then he got neutered and prescribed liquid pain killer and antibiotic capsules for 10 days. The painkiller wasn't a problem. It smelled like cherries. I let him sniff the syringe and when he started chewing on it I quickly squirted the stuff down and in 20 minutes he was damn hyper and I was worried he was going to open the inscision site.
The pills were stuffed into bits of hot dogs or served hors durve style on a dog treat with peanut butter. One morning I was running late and forgot to give Whiskey his pill. I called Scott and ask him to dose him. That night I asked if he took it pretty good and Scott said he handed the pill to Whiskey and he played with it it a bit before he ate it.
"Just the pill?"
"yep."
"no peanut butter?"
"nope."
"no hot dog?"
"nope."
"just a straight pill?"
"yep."
"unbelievable"
I grew up with a pair of beagles, who, with their Super Sniffers, could detect a pill laced treat before you stepped outside the door and were equally adept at eating the treat and spitting out a drool coated intact pill. We became pretty creative in the art of pill disguising.
I didn't believe Scott so he gave Whiskey his evening pill as I watched. He licked and sniffed it and it gave him a cute little green spot on his tongue. Finally the capsule had disolved enough that it popped open in his mouth and he swallowed down the powder before getting a drink of water. I could barely believe my eyes.
My dog likes taking pills and medicine.
My dog. The junkie.
Then he got neutered and prescribed liquid pain killer and antibiotic capsules for 10 days. The painkiller wasn't a problem. It smelled like cherries. I let him sniff the syringe and when he started chewing on it I quickly squirted the stuff down and in 20 minutes he was damn hyper and I was worried he was going to open the inscision site.
The pills were stuffed into bits of hot dogs or served hors durve style on a dog treat with peanut butter. One morning I was running late and forgot to give Whiskey his pill. I called Scott and ask him to dose him. That night I asked if he took it pretty good and Scott said he handed the pill to Whiskey and he played with it it a bit before he ate it.
"Just the pill?"
"yep."
"no peanut butter?"
"nope."
"no hot dog?"
"nope."
"just a straight pill?"
"yep."
"unbelievable"
I grew up with a pair of beagles, who, with their Super Sniffers, could detect a pill laced treat before you stepped outside the door and were equally adept at eating the treat and spitting out a drool coated intact pill. We became pretty creative in the art of pill disguising.
I didn't believe Scott so he gave Whiskey his evening pill as I watched. He licked and sniffed it and it gave him a cute little green spot on his tongue. Finally the capsule had disolved enough that it popped open in his mouth and he swallowed down the powder before getting a drink of water. I could barely believe my eyes.
My dog likes taking pills and medicine.
My dog. The junkie.
Tuesday, July 06, 2004
Whiskey
Well, a lot has gone on since we last talked.
May 15th I was out with my realtor looking at houses. In front of one house was a stray puppy. I picked it up and carried it through the house. He wiggled and squirmed a bit but decided that being held is alright.
Short brown hair with a black muzzle and a black tail, his sad little eyes were dull. Hip bones were sticking out as were all ribs. Not easily visible, but clearly felt was his breastbone. After we looked at the house I told the realtor that I didn't feel comfortable leaving him behind and she said he could come with us. We looked at another house before she stopped at a gas station and I bought a small bag of dog food. Knowing he hadn't eaten for a while I just gave him a small handful after each house we stopped at. He slept in my arms the rest of the time. After going back to her office I went to PetsMart to get him a collar. He slept in the cart most of the time so fitting him wasn't a problem. There wasn't a vet on call at that PetsMart so I called Scott to let him know I was bringing home a puppy. His sister and brother-in-law were there for the weekend.
I called the PetsMart in Norman and made an appt for that afternoon. Since I didn't have a name for him she put in Stray. His nails were cut and he got some worm medicine. The vet wanted him to get a bit healthier and some weight gained before he would start his shots.
His sister suggested the name Bear since that's what he looked like, and with those big feet of his, it was obvious that he was going to be a big dog. I named him Whiskey after the horse in the old western The Villain staring Kirk Douglas and a very young Arnie Schwarneger.
Wanted to name him Rio after another horse in a western starring Lou Gosset Jr. but Whiskey seemed to suit him better.
After a week the little guy was beginning to fill out some and was very active and hyper as puppies are. The vet estimated his age at about 3 1/2 months when I found him. So I gave him the birthday of Feb 1.
Now his is a lively neutered 30 lb pup. When I bought the collar it was about as small as I could make it, now it's let out as far as it will go and it's almost too snug on him. He gets his last round of boosters in three weeks. And I'm looking around for a puppy class to enroll him into.
~*~
In other news June 27 was my last day in the apt that I got when I moved here 4 1/2 years ago. In April we got new managers, again and they changed the pet policy to pets under 20 lbs with a $200 deposit half of it non-refundable.
I've moved in with Scott. He's been wanting me to move in for awhile. He's seen some of the houses I was looking at and said I deserve a better house in a nicer neighborhood. Of course those houses were about $10-20,000 more than I could afford. By living with him I can save at least $550 dollars a month. I told him I could pay him some sort of rent. I told him I wanted to have extended basic cable and that I'd pay for it, so that's $40 a month there. Every time I bring it up he says "We'll figure it out later"
~*~
Damn near every thing I own is in boxes in his guest bedroom or in a corner of the living room. I moved my couch, dresser and headboard with me and put the rest of the big stuff in storage. Will be going through the rest of the boxes and sorting what can go in storage and what can be donated and what can be trashed.
I took today off to get some stuff taken care of and I've got most of it done. The only thing I lack is calling a few places about car insurance and grocery shopping.
later
May 15th I was out with my realtor looking at houses. In front of one house was a stray puppy. I picked it up and carried it through the house. He wiggled and squirmed a bit but decided that being held is alright.
Short brown hair with a black muzzle and a black tail, his sad little eyes were dull. Hip bones were sticking out as were all ribs. Not easily visible, but clearly felt was his breastbone. After we looked at the house I told the realtor that I didn't feel comfortable leaving him behind and she said he could come with us. We looked at another house before she stopped at a gas station and I bought a small bag of dog food. Knowing he hadn't eaten for a while I just gave him a small handful after each house we stopped at. He slept in my arms the rest of the time. After going back to her office I went to PetsMart to get him a collar. He slept in the cart most of the time so fitting him wasn't a problem. There wasn't a vet on call at that PetsMart so I called Scott to let him know I was bringing home a puppy. His sister and brother-in-law were there for the weekend.
I called the PetsMart in Norman and made an appt for that afternoon. Since I didn't have a name for him she put in Stray. His nails were cut and he got some worm medicine. The vet wanted him to get a bit healthier and some weight gained before he would start his shots.
His sister suggested the name Bear since that's what he looked like, and with those big feet of his, it was obvious that he was going to be a big dog. I named him Whiskey after the horse in the old western The Villain staring Kirk Douglas and a very young Arnie Schwarneger.
Wanted to name him Rio after another horse in a western starring Lou Gosset Jr. but Whiskey seemed to suit him better.
After a week the little guy was beginning to fill out some and was very active and hyper as puppies are. The vet estimated his age at about 3 1/2 months when I found him. So I gave him the birthday of Feb 1.
Now his is a lively neutered 30 lb pup. When I bought the collar it was about as small as I could make it, now it's let out as far as it will go and it's almost too snug on him. He gets his last round of boosters in three weeks. And I'm looking around for a puppy class to enroll him into.
~*~
In other news June 27 was my last day in the apt that I got when I moved here 4 1/2 years ago. In April we got new managers, again and they changed the pet policy to pets under 20 lbs with a $200 deposit half of it non-refundable.
I've moved in with Scott. He's been wanting me to move in for awhile. He's seen some of the houses I was looking at and said I deserve a better house in a nicer neighborhood. Of course those houses were about $10-20,000 more than I could afford. By living with him I can save at least $550 dollars a month. I told him I could pay him some sort of rent. I told him I wanted to have extended basic cable and that I'd pay for it, so that's $40 a month there. Every time I bring it up he says "We'll figure it out later"
~*~
Damn near every thing I own is in boxes in his guest bedroom or in a corner of the living room. I moved my couch, dresser and headboard with me and put the rest of the big stuff in storage. Will be going through the rest of the boxes and sorting what can go in storage and what can be donated and what can be trashed.
I took today off to get some stuff taken care of and I've got most of it done. The only thing I lack is calling a few places about car insurance and grocery shopping.
later
Monday, April 05, 2004
still alive
Yes, I'm still here.
It's a long story so I'll sum up. Feb 14 me and Scott went to Little Sahara and ran the dunes in his 4x4 Jeep. His other friends that we were with had 4-wheelers. After chasing around for a while Scott's roommate, Ken got tired so Scott got on his quad. I didn't think much of it, but when I saw Ken show Scott how to shift gears I got a sick feeling in my stomach. I really wanted to tell him to get his ass off the quad and back in the jeep. But his friends we were with are all military and I didn't want to make a scene. Off he goes with a few other people. I stayed behind with someones girlfriend, Ken and someone else.
We talked and watched them go up and down the dunes. Then they were gone. At first I thought they were talking with some other guys that had a sand dune buggy. A guy came back and said "Hey, ya'll, I think Scott broke his wrist." My knees damn near went out from under me. So with Ken driving the jeep (I don't know standard transmission) We followed the guy down to the bottom of a dune where Scott was laying on his side, arm stretched out with a bone sticking out of the top of his wrist at a grotesque angle. The skin wasn't punctured, but it looked bad anyway. He had a cut above his eye and across the top of his nose and blood was dripping of the end of his nose and clotting in the sand.We put Scott in the jeep, I crawled into the back and Ken drove us back to where the others had camp.
The nearest hospital was Alva, 20-25 miles away. By this time Scott was looking very pale and had his eyes squeezed shut because the blood and sand was irritating his eyes. (He was wearing goggles, helmet and gloves) So I get into Scott's truck and we head to Alva. In Waynoka I had to make a turn and go through the middle of town a few blocks to get to the highway. I stopped at a stop sign and as I was making the turn Scott says he has to puke. Thankfully there were no cars parked infront of this business so I pulled parallel to the curb and he opened the door and yaked. After he closed the door I sat there for a few moments to let his stomach either settle or go for round two. When he nodded that he was ok I noticed that I had pulled infront of a cafe. Thank goodness it was closed because that would have been bad. A real life Barf-O-Rama like in the movie Stand By Me.
In Alva he gets stitched up, 4 across his broke nose and 3 in the eyelid just above the lashes. He gets lortab and his broke wrist splinted. They couldn't set a break that bad and called the bone and joint er in OKC to let them know we were on our way. They send us on our way a few hours later with his x-rays and more lortab. I also grabbed a puke bucket which Scott made offerings to regularly. The blood from his nose was draining to his stomach and after so much, his stomach would send it back. It's freaky watching someone puke blood. I was worried that he had internal injuries.
We go back to the little motel we were staying at. (When we checked in the night before it was close to midnight, the woman who runs it also lives there and was asleep. The ringer woke her and she opened the door and said she had put the key to our room under the mat. Just check in in the morning she said. God bless the Small Towns). The woman was running out. So we hung out in the room for about 45 minutes waiting for her to get back. After checking out we went back to Little Sahara. We trailered the jeep up there and I was not about to drive the truck with a loaded trailer behind it. One of the other guys offered to trailer it back home for us.
It was dark by the time we got to the other ER. They put him under consious sedation and set the bone and put it in a cast. After setting it they took him across the hall to x-ray it. The nurse stopped in front of the waiting area and I waved and asked where they were going. The nurse says x-ray and starts to round the corner. Scott rolls over enough to call out over his shoulder, 'next stop, autopsy' He doesn't remember saying it, but thinks it was damn funny. I thought my joke about rectal themometers was funny in Alva but he shot me daggers from under his closed eyes.
We get home and I told him as I ran a bath, 'babe, if you wanted a sponge bath for Valentine's, all you had to do was ask.'
About two weeks later he had surgery. I took the day off so I could take him there and bring him back. (later I learned from dad that my brother who smashed this thumb in a metal press was having a second surgery on his thumb at the same time Scott was having a plate put into his wrist).
To keep the cast dry he'd put a trash bag over it and secure it with a rubber band. For 4 weeks whenever I took a shower over there he'd get in with me, invited or not. He said it was the only time he could get his right arm-pit washed, get a good hair-washing and get his back dried.
The cast came off after 2 weeks and he wore a removable splint for a few weeks. He's been in physical therapy for almost 3 weeks.
So while helping him out around the house with stuff I was trying to get my finances sorted out (yes, again) and get started on getting a home loan. I really can't save much on my regular paycheck, so I've been working overtime and the overtime money goes into savings.
The last two Saturdays I've been out with a realtor looking at houses. Some are nice, some are shit but I haven't found 'the one' if such a house exhists. We did look at one in a cute cozy quiet area. It did need some new cabinets in the kitchen and new carpet and paint, but other than that I could see myself living there. The washer and dryer were in the garage, which I don't mind. I did mind that the only way to the garage was out the back door, around the little stoop and through another door. I told the realtor, S, that I've been walking a block 1 way in all weather to get my clothes to the laundry room at the apt complex for 4.5 years. I didn't want to go outside to get the laundry at my own house. The wall that the kitchen shared with the garage was long enough for a door. The back yard was nice, with a mature tree and a storage shed.
The houses I looked at near downtown in the historal district were cute. Some were in crappy neighborhoods and/or needed more work than I was willing to put into it. The two that I really liked only had 1 bathroom. I told S that I needed 2 bathrooms and that was non-negotiable.
And that brings us up to today. The mortgage process gives me a headache. The stress of looking for a home and whether or not I'll find one before mid May has my emotions going up and down and every which way. The stress is almost more than my zoloft can handle.
oh, and I cut 12-14" off my hair, bringing it up to the bottom of my belt loops on my favorite pair of jeans.
I've missed all ya'll.
It's a long story so I'll sum up. Feb 14 me and Scott went to Little Sahara and ran the dunes in his 4x4 Jeep. His other friends that we were with had 4-wheelers. After chasing around for a while Scott's roommate, Ken got tired so Scott got on his quad. I didn't think much of it, but when I saw Ken show Scott how to shift gears I got a sick feeling in my stomach. I really wanted to tell him to get his ass off the quad and back in the jeep. But his friends we were with are all military and I didn't want to make a scene. Off he goes with a few other people. I stayed behind with someones girlfriend, Ken and someone else.
We talked and watched them go up and down the dunes. Then they were gone. At first I thought they were talking with some other guys that had a sand dune buggy. A guy came back and said "Hey, ya'll, I think Scott broke his wrist." My knees damn near went out from under me. So with Ken driving the jeep (I don't know standard transmission) We followed the guy down to the bottom of a dune where Scott was laying on his side, arm stretched out with a bone sticking out of the top of his wrist at a grotesque angle. The skin wasn't punctured, but it looked bad anyway. He had a cut above his eye and across the top of his nose and blood was dripping of the end of his nose and clotting in the sand.We put Scott in the jeep, I crawled into the back and Ken drove us back to where the others had camp.
The nearest hospital was Alva, 20-25 miles away. By this time Scott was looking very pale and had his eyes squeezed shut because the blood and sand was irritating his eyes. (He was wearing goggles, helmet and gloves) So I get into Scott's truck and we head to Alva. In Waynoka I had to make a turn and go through the middle of town a few blocks to get to the highway. I stopped at a stop sign and as I was making the turn Scott says he has to puke. Thankfully there were no cars parked infront of this business so I pulled parallel to the curb and he opened the door and yaked. After he closed the door I sat there for a few moments to let his stomach either settle or go for round two. When he nodded that he was ok I noticed that I had pulled infront of a cafe. Thank goodness it was closed because that would have been bad. A real life Barf-O-Rama like in the movie Stand By Me.
In Alva he gets stitched up, 4 across his broke nose and 3 in the eyelid just above the lashes. He gets lortab and his broke wrist splinted. They couldn't set a break that bad and called the bone and joint er in OKC to let them know we were on our way. They send us on our way a few hours later with his x-rays and more lortab. I also grabbed a puke bucket which Scott made offerings to regularly. The blood from his nose was draining to his stomach and after so much, his stomach would send it back. It's freaky watching someone puke blood. I was worried that he had internal injuries.
We go back to the little motel we were staying at. (When we checked in the night before it was close to midnight, the woman who runs it also lives there and was asleep. The ringer woke her and she opened the door and said she had put the key to our room under the mat. Just check in in the morning she said. God bless the Small Towns). The woman was running out. So we hung out in the room for about 45 minutes waiting for her to get back. After checking out we went back to Little Sahara. We trailered the jeep up there and I was not about to drive the truck with a loaded trailer behind it. One of the other guys offered to trailer it back home for us.
It was dark by the time we got to the other ER. They put him under consious sedation and set the bone and put it in a cast. After setting it they took him across the hall to x-ray it. The nurse stopped in front of the waiting area and I waved and asked where they were going. The nurse says x-ray and starts to round the corner. Scott rolls over enough to call out over his shoulder, 'next stop, autopsy' He doesn't remember saying it, but thinks it was damn funny. I thought my joke about rectal themometers was funny in Alva but he shot me daggers from under his closed eyes.
We get home and I told him as I ran a bath, 'babe, if you wanted a sponge bath for Valentine's, all you had to do was ask.'
About two weeks later he had surgery. I took the day off so I could take him there and bring him back. (later I learned from dad that my brother who smashed this thumb in a metal press was having a second surgery on his thumb at the same time Scott was having a plate put into his wrist).
To keep the cast dry he'd put a trash bag over it and secure it with a rubber band. For 4 weeks whenever I took a shower over there he'd get in with me, invited or not. He said it was the only time he could get his right arm-pit washed, get a good hair-washing and get his back dried.
The cast came off after 2 weeks and he wore a removable splint for a few weeks. He's been in physical therapy for almost 3 weeks.
So while helping him out around the house with stuff I was trying to get my finances sorted out (yes, again) and get started on getting a home loan. I really can't save much on my regular paycheck, so I've been working overtime and the overtime money goes into savings.
The last two Saturdays I've been out with a realtor looking at houses. Some are nice, some are shit but I haven't found 'the one' if such a house exhists. We did look at one in a cute cozy quiet area. It did need some new cabinets in the kitchen and new carpet and paint, but other than that I could see myself living there. The washer and dryer were in the garage, which I don't mind. I did mind that the only way to the garage was out the back door, around the little stoop and through another door. I told the realtor, S, that I've been walking a block 1 way in all weather to get my clothes to the laundry room at the apt complex for 4.5 years. I didn't want to go outside to get the laundry at my own house. The wall that the kitchen shared with the garage was long enough for a door. The back yard was nice, with a mature tree and a storage shed.
The houses I looked at near downtown in the historal district were cute. Some were in crappy neighborhoods and/or needed more work than I was willing to put into it. The two that I really liked only had 1 bathroom. I told S that I needed 2 bathrooms and that was non-negotiable.
And that brings us up to today. The mortgage process gives me a headache. The stress of looking for a home and whether or not I'll find one before mid May has my emotions going up and down and every which way. The stress is almost more than my zoloft can handle.
oh, and I cut 12-14" off my hair, bringing it up to the bottom of my belt loops on my favorite pair of jeans.
I've missed all ya'll.
Wednesday, February 11, 2004
refinanced and in the red
I called around to a few banks looking for a lower interest rate on my car loan. I called my bank and they said they could drop it to 6.5%, down from 7%. How white of you, thank you. Here, slap the other cheek just so I can have a matched pair. Found a bank that offered me 5.75% which is the best I was able to find. So the next day I hot-footed it over there and got it all taken care of.
My payments had been $300 a month but with the new loan I stetched the term to 36 month and now have a $215/mo loan. This way I can put an extra $80 on the priciple every month since I'm already budgeted for that amount, and when things get tight, (like that have been this month) I don't have to worry about defaulting.
I was rambling on about this to Scott over the phone last week. He said he was very happy that I knew about budgets and money. His ex didn't. She had 5 or 6 jobs a year and spent a lot of money. It wasn't until after they were divorced that she called to thank him about being so anal about staying on a budget so she could spend and still come home to a warm house and dinner.
Then today I checked my balance and my online credit card payment went through a day before I expected it to, and it showed me as being $13 in the red. ACK!
So I called the bank to find out how much the overdraft charge would be. She said I'm not technially overdrawn right now, if I can make a deposit by closing time, then I will stay in the black. So I moved over $40 so I could cover the credit card payment and get groceries. And sometime between midnight tonight and Friday my paycheck will be deposited. YES!!!!!!!
And for the first time in many months I'll have a nice cushion and not worry about asking mom for more money.
My payments had been $300 a month but with the new loan I stetched the term to 36 month and now have a $215/mo loan. This way I can put an extra $80 on the priciple every month since I'm already budgeted for that amount, and when things get tight, (like that have been this month) I don't have to worry about defaulting.
I was rambling on about this to Scott over the phone last week. He said he was very happy that I knew about budgets and money. His ex didn't. She had 5 or 6 jobs a year and spent a lot of money. It wasn't until after they were divorced that she called to thank him about being so anal about staying on a budget so she could spend and still come home to a warm house and dinner.
Then today I checked my balance and my online credit card payment went through a day before I expected it to, and it showed me as being $13 in the red. ACK!
So I called the bank to find out how much the overdraft charge would be. She said I'm not technially overdrawn right now, if I can make a deposit by closing time, then I will stay in the black. So I moved over $40 so I could cover the credit card payment and get groceries. And sometime between midnight tonight and Friday my paycheck will be deposited. YES!!!!!!!
And for the first time in many months I'll have a nice cushion and not worry about asking mom for more money.
Tuesday, February 03, 2004
yeah, so?
I missed the whole Janet's boob brew-ha-ha. I did see her singing, but when that Justin whoever came out, I told Scott he could channel surf and he did for a few minutes until the second half started. Which was delayed by a streaker. I figured the streaker would be the talk come Monday. Wrong.
I don't know what the big deal was. I figured it was planned, who wears star shapped pasties (some have said it was some sort of pierced nipple jewlery) if they don't expect to have their top ripped off.
The primaries are today in Oklahoma and 6 other states. The Gazette, an alternative newspaper here, had a little table of each candidate and their views on the big issues. There's one twit who's running that claims the attacks on NYC and the Pentagon were a failed coup d'etat by someone(s) in the US military. He also wants some former Iraqi deputy prime minister freed.
Other than that, things are going quite well for me. For some reason my house was tres stinky when I came home from work. I could smell it in the breezeway outside my door. My first thought was that I forgot to take out the trash. But the only thing in my trash was junk mail and a little bit of peach cobbler. The stink smelled like steamed caulflower. I hate caulflower, steamed or otherwise. I did two loads of dishes last night, so the sink was empty, there was nothing stuffed down the garbage disposal and never disposed of. So I sprayed air freshner and lit a candle. I can still smell the stink.
I don't know what the big deal was. I figured it was planned, who wears star shapped pasties (some have said it was some sort of pierced nipple jewlery) if they don't expect to have their top ripped off.
The primaries are today in Oklahoma and 6 other states. The Gazette, an alternative newspaper here, had a little table of each candidate and their views on the big issues. There's one twit who's running that claims the attacks on NYC and the Pentagon were a failed coup d'etat by someone(s) in the US military. He also wants some former Iraqi deputy prime minister freed.
Other than that, things are going quite well for me. For some reason my house was tres stinky when I came home from work. I could smell it in the breezeway outside my door. My first thought was that I forgot to take out the trash. But the only thing in my trash was junk mail and a little bit of peach cobbler. The stink smelled like steamed caulflower. I hate caulflower, steamed or otherwise. I did two loads of dishes last night, so the sink was empty, there was nothing stuffed down the garbage disposal and never disposed of. So I sprayed air freshner and lit a candle. I can still smell the stink.
Tuesday, January 27, 2004
Does this happen to any other women?
There have been several times when I'm out road tripping with a guy and we stop at a gas station for a quick pee break, fill up and snacks. Several times the bathroom is just a one seater for both the men's and women's restroom. Several times said restrooms are side by side and share a wall. Several times while I'm in there the guy will knock on that shared wall. What is it about a shared bathroom wall that compels a man to bang on it? I've never felt that urge. In fact, I try like hell to touch as little as I can in public restrooms.
Wednesday, January 21, 2004
Quilt Goddess
Last night was the first meeting of the new quilt guild in town. I joined and am now one of at least 145 charter members. Some one brought up a good point. What kind of advantage is there in being a charter member? I jotted down a suggestion, could charter members get 10% off at the local quilt store (since the owner has helped get this guild going). I also jotted down my ideas for the 'name the newsletter' contest. There was also some sort of game they played. But the 'hostess' wasn't speaking loud enough into the mic, so those of us in the back couldn't hear, lost interest and chatted instead. The woman who was hosting this game looked like Gary Shandling in drag. I kid you not.
Been feeling creative lately. And since I've cleaned up around here and can see the tops of the tables and counters the urge to create has become stronger. The problem is that I don't know were to start. Sue is going to let me borrow her "Artist's Way" book. Maybe I can get a little bit of organization or at least some structure to get started.
Mom and Dad came up last weekend. I gave Dad a gift card to the new BassPro that opened here. There was also a quilt show at the Cox Center just a half mile away. Scott came up and dropped me and mom at the quilt show then took dad to Basspro. Scott said he bought about $50 of those gummy worm lures and a few other things.
I told mom before the quilt show to make sure I don't spend any money. I've got $600 on my credit card and $40 in the bank. Well, I was doing pretty good then I spotted some batiks. I looked around for mom. Nowhere to be seen. I had 5 fat quarters in hand when I felt someone stareing at me. I looked over my shoulder and there was mom glaring at me. "it's your fault!" I said. "you left me unattended" "Do you need those?" she asked. "Like I need water and oxygen, mom, I need these."
Tuesday was a good mail day for me. I received an herbal book I bought used from an Amazon.com vendor. Also recieved a cd I bought on ebay. Trailer Park Troubadours live album, Living in Aluminum is Smothers Brothers meets Toby Keith meets trailer park culture. "Mud Wrasslin' at Pinky's" and "My Baby Whistles When She Walks" are the two reasons I bought it. And the reason I signed up for an ebay account. Won the bid at $1.25 and $3 shipping/handling.
I bought a tiny Playboy Bunny nose stud. It was a toss up between that one and just a plain loop.
Been feeling creative lately. And since I've cleaned up around here and can see the tops of the tables and counters the urge to create has become stronger. The problem is that I don't know were to start. Sue is going to let me borrow her "Artist's Way" book. Maybe I can get a little bit of organization or at least some structure to get started.
Mom and Dad came up last weekend. I gave Dad a gift card to the new BassPro that opened here. There was also a quilt show at the Cox Center just a half mile away. Scott came up and dropped me and mom at the quilt show then took dad to Basspro. Scott said he bought about $50 of those gummy worm lures and a few other things.
I told mom before the quilt show to make sure I don't spend any money. I've got $600 on my credit card and $40 in the bank. Well, I was doing pretty good then I spotted some batiks. I looked around for mom. Nowhere to be seen. I had 5 fat quarters in hand when I felt someone stareing at me. I looked over my shoulder and there was mom glaring at me. "it's your fault!" I said. "you left me unattended" "Do you need those?" she asked. "Like I need water and oxygen, mom, I need these."
Tuesday was a good mail day for me. I received an herbal book I bought used from an Amazon.com vendor. Also recieved a cd I bought on ebay. Trailer Park Troubadours live album, Living in Aluminum is Smothers Brothers meets Toby Keith meets trailer park culture. "Mud Wrasslin' at Pinky's" and "My Baby Whistles When She Walks" are the two reasons I bought it. And the reason I signed up for an ebay account. Won the bid at $1.25 and $3 shipping/handling.
I bought a tiny Playboy Bunny nose stud. It was a toss up between that one and just a plain loop.
Monday, January 12, 2004
Clean!
Yes, the rumors are true. I cleaned. Not just straighted, not just put a few things away and took out the trash. I cleaned.
Scott came over and we took my car to get serviced and on the way home stopped and got 3 of those big storage bins that slide under the bed. (The only place I have room for storage). He watched tv for a bit and read a Calvin and Hobbs book while I got to work. He read me some of the funnier ones as I was on my hands and knees fishing out junk from behind the couch and from under the kitchen table. He allowed me breaks, but if I dwaddled or started channel surfing he'd take the remote out of my hands and say 'don't you have a house to clean?'
We went to lunch when I started getting a hunger induced headache. After lunch I was feeling a bit worse and took some excedrine and a 20 min nap. Then I started on the corner by the kitchen table. The worse part of the whole place. It went quicker than I expected and wasn't too bad. Basically it was several bags of quilt fabric and a few craft projects. Had to go out and get another storage bin. By the time I was done, I filled 4 bins with either books or fabric, took out 5 grocery bags of trash and donated a set of sheets, comforter and 4 more grocery bags of clothes to a second-hand store.
My carpet is beige and in desperate need of a vaccuuming. I couldn't stop giggling as I looked around at my clean abode.
On the coffeetable and kitchen table I have a small pile of stuff that I need to do something with. Stuff that needs a bit more thought than the split second 'keep or toss' that I had made many many times already.
Between my headache and cleaning I was too tired to get my sex reward for cleaning. Scott had been working nights and was also tired so we just went to bed and *gasp* slept.
Scott came over and we took my car to get serviced and on the way home stopped and got 3 of those big storage bins that slide under the bed. (The only place I have room for storage). He watched tv for a bit and read a Calvin and Hobbs book while I got to work. He read me some of the funnier ones as I was on my hands and knees fishing out junk from behind the couch and from under the kitchen table. He allowed me breaks, but if I dwaddled or started channel surfing he'd take the remote out of my hands and say 'don't you have a house to clean?'
We went to lunch when I started getting a hunger induced headache. After lunch I was feeling a bit worse and took some excedrine and a 20 min nap. Then I started on the corner by the kitchen table. The worse part of the whole place. It went quicker than I expected and wasn't too bad. Basically it was several bags of quilt fabric and a few craft projects. Had to go out and get another storage bin. By the time I was done, I filled 4 bins with either books or fabric, took out 5 grocery bags of trash and donated a set of sheets, comforter and 4 more grocery bags of clothes to a second-hand store.
My carpet is beige and in desperate need of a vaccuuming. I couldn't stop giggling as I looked around at my clean abode.
On the coffeetable and kitchen table I have a small pile of stuff that I need to do something with. Stuff that needs a bit more thought than the split second 'keep or toss' that I had made many many times already.
Between my headache and cleaning I was too tired to get my sex reward for cleaning. Scott had been working nights and was also tired so we just went to bed and *gasp* slept.
Wednesday, January 07, 2004
Happy New Year
I'm still here. Been busy. Holidays, work, stomach flu, work and my new guy.
That pretty much sums it up for me this last month.
This month I'm going to do some serious cleaning around here. I told myself and Scott no more sex until I get my apt clean. Scott immeadiatly offered his help. "Sheesh, it's gonna be awhile before I have sex again." he said. That right there tells you two things: My apt is very messy and I'm slow about cleaning it.
I worked this past Saturday helping with inventory. Since work doesn't like paying for overtime I'll be able to get most if not all of Friday off. Scott is off as well. I think I'll have him follow me down when I take my car in to be serviced and then we'll go somewhere and get some Rubbermaid bins for me to put some stuff into and take my other unwanted stuff somewhere and donate it.
I've got fabric strung from one end of this place to the other. It's pretty common for me to be looking for one thing and come across a fat quarter or two that I bought and forgot about. Since space around here is tight, I'm going to get several of the shallow bins that can go under the bed. Also store some books in there as well since what little shelf space I have in the linen closet is stuffed with books.
That pretty much sums it up for me this last month.
This month I'm going to do some serious cleaning around here. I told myself and Scott no more sex until I get my apt clean. Scott immeadiatly offered his help. "Sheesh, it's gonna be awhile before I have sex again." he said. That right there tells you two things: My apt is very messy and I'm slow about cleaning it.
I worked this past Saturday helping with inventory. Since work doesn't like paying for overtime I'll be able to get most if not all of Friday off. Scott is off as well. I think I'll have him follow me down when I take my car in to be serviced and then we'll go somewhere and get some Rubbermaid bins for me to put some stuff into and take my other unwanted stuff somewhere and donate it.
I've got fabric strung from one end of this place to the other. It's pretty common for me to be looking for one thing and come across a fat quarter or two that I bought and forgot about. Since space around here is tight, I'm going to get several of the shallow bins that can go under the bed. Also store some books in there as well since what little shelf space I have in the linen closet is stuffed with books.
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