Blown Fuse

Yo ho, heave ho.

I did a little bit of work in the front yard yesterday. I dug a new (small) bed for some of the gladiolus corms I bought at Home Depot a couple of weeks ago. There were about 50 in the bag. I don't know what I was thinking. I saw the word "Value!" printed on the packaging and couldn't resist. I planted about 20 and threw five moldy ones out. I need to put on my thinking cap and find somewhere for the rest of the pack. I'm telling you, digging compacted clay is a BITCH.

I have a guy coming tomorrow to give me an estimate on cleaning up all the leaves in the front yard and getting up the thatch. I have a good idea of what I think that's worth but it should be an educational experience to see what he quotes.

I've never had to hire anyone to do work in or around the house so I'm a little scared that I'll just assume that he's not going to try to take advantage of me because I'm a woman and don't know any better. (right.)

What's a standard hourly rate for yard clean-up? I'm not even talking about "landscaping" here--I'm talking about some dude with a leaf blower and a garbage bag.

Fantastic Ideas R' Us

You know those little condiment packets that you get at fast food restaurants? They should make those with Pepto Bismol and distribute them freely. By the time you get through that Big Mac you'll need them.

Oh, my aching ass.

I decided to do the "intermediate" rather than the "beginner's" pilates workout yesterday.

Ow.

I knew I was out of shape at the exact moment when after peeling myself off the floor and considering whether I wanted a beer...I didn't have the energy to open one.

"Bad boys, bad boys..."

I don't like it when large vehicles try to race me from stop lights. Nuh uh.

By no means am I a slow driver. If I'm not going at least five mph over the speed limit, then it's because I'm stuck behind some Noah driving a boat and weaving across the lanes.

Today, let's just say that the Durham police were being nice and not pulling people over. I'm extremely proud of my ability to go from 70 to 55 in less than two seconds.

"TOOT" yourself, buddy!

I've said it before, but it bears repeating now: I hate impatient people.

I went to the Burger King drive-thru for lunch and at the pay window, I handed the clerk my card and waited as she walked to another terminal to swipe it. The idjut behind me must not understand that merchants accept plastic now and tooted his horn as if to remind me that I should drive up to the next window to get my food.

I didn't even acknowledge him. I waited another minute and then the clerk returned with my card.

In hindsight, I should have tooted back at him as if to say "Hi! What's up?"

It has to be said.

I'm a pretty open-minded person for the most part. I give most people the benefit of the doubt even if in the end I come out looking like a total asshole for being so gullible.

But there's just one group of people I have unmitigated dislike for.

Sorority girls.

They just seem to always run in packs, which is fine, but can be a bit of a nuisance when in public they assume that other people won't be annoyed by their antics.

Now before you go thinking that I must have pledged and got rejected: don't. I never expressed any interest in pledging anyone's sorority: black, white, Christian, or otherwise. While all my college friends were prepping and preening themseves for selection by the Deltas or AKAs or whoever, I was the one person who avoided wearing red or pink so that no one thought I was trying to be recruited.

Now, that aside, I was at Target the other day (you remember that don't you?) I spent maybe ten minutes doing actual shopping (I'm not a dilly dallyier when it comes to crowded stores) and fifteen minutes in line.

The fastest moving line had one person who was just finishing up and three sorority girls who were in a group, but ringing up separately. They each had maybe two items. (I guess self-checkout would have been "work" for them.) I had less than ten (one being alcoholic), myself, and had i.d. and debit card ready to expedite my checkout.

I kept my distance behind them so as not to scare the poor dears with my married-inhabitant of the real world-wearer of comfortable shoes-normalness. As sorostitute sorority girl number three was about to ring up, she saw another sorority friend peeping magazines at the end of the line. "Hey, come get in line here!" she said, pointing to the spot right in front of my feet.

Excuse me? Did she not see that I'd been waiting in the line patiently for ten minutes, and doing my civic duty of giving them plenty of personal space? That, my friends, is assault. Fortunately, sorority-friend had already cut in line elsewhere and didn't have the opportunity to break in front of me. See, I'm the kind of person that feels bad when I have break line without items just to help someone check out at the grocery store.

I probably wouldn't have said anything, but I'd put good money on the people behind me that they'd have raised hell.

I'm using that anecdote merely to express that I have real problems with people who believe themselves to be more priviledged than those around them. I chose not to associate myself with those sorts of organizations specifically because, venom or no, I'm pretty down to Earth. People just change when they get sucked into groups that require certain standards of dress and living in general.

They come out of school with these huge networks of people behind them to help them find good jobs in their field of study. They believe that a pewter "Delta Delta Delta" license plate on the front of their car is going to cause people to change lanes for them.

I'm sorry if I've offended anyone's sensibilties. I work too hard at trying to make my life better than my parents' and grandparents' that it pisses me off that people have a "gimmie" attitude. I try to be patient and I'm polite to strangers. I even try to be cordial to people who are outright nasty. Some people just make it very hard to be nice.

2 Down, 6 to Go

I installed the new light fixture in the hallway yesterday which pretty much marks the completion of anything we're going to do there. We're going to change all of the doorknobs to a chrome color to match the new lighting fixture, and will probably put up a new thermostat cover and doorbell box....other than that, finito. Here's what the old fixture looked like (it's now in the trash):

See the extended entry for a before and after of the hallway.

(click to enlarge photos)

...all the paint stripping,

...and scraping,

All done.

Should have bought Joss Stone.

I bought this CD because what few songs I'd heard from it were sort of nice, and Gavin DeGraw can sound sort of like Maroon 5's Adam Levine. And if you don't know, Adam Levine's voice is dripping with sex.

Gavin DeGraw? Not so much. While there are some similarities in style, Gavin DeGraw's "Chariot" CD is totally popped over for the WB's primetime demographic. Such a pity, too. After listening to the bonus acoustic CD that came with it, "Stripped," I see that it isn't DeGraw with the pop sound--it's obviously producer Mark Endert's creation. Damn shame too, for a guy with so much gospel in his voice.

If you can get "Stripped" without the "Chariot" albatross, go for it.

I've got it! Transfer via telepathy!

I need to find a way to transfer all of my old documents off of my laptop with minimal frustration.

Really, I don't even want all of them. Some of those files can fester and turn purple and die and I won't care, but there are various mutations of manuscript drafts I'd like to get off.

No, I did not buy the super-deluxe file transfer kit when I bought the new computer. I figured it would just be some special USB cord and I wasn't getting snooked by that.

I have a few other logistic problems, as well...for example, I don't have any more outlets to plug shit in. As it is, I have to unplug my speakers to print things. My power strip is pretty big, it's just that the width of a couple of the plugs causes two otherwise free outlets to be blocked.

Shh! I need to figure this out.

I'M UP damnit!

I was supposed to get up earlyish today to have brunch with a friend. *stretch* *yawn*

Well, I'm up now.

The thing about this being a three-day weekend (for me anyway) is that you don't feel an overwhelming need to do much of anything. I sure as hiz-zell don't.

I'm going to go to Tar-zhay to kill two birds with one tire. I need a few grocery items and some toiletries to crowd that compartment under my sink. Wal-Mart just isn't in the cards today--too many people that are all too happy to run over ankles with their cart.

I've got a few other things on my "must do" list that I'd like to get accomplished today, like getting the new hallway light installed and jerryrigging the garage sensor light so that it doesn't stay on after people walk past it. I think all it needs is a little spit and some electrical tape...and maybe some Windex.

Here's a random realization: you know how men get beer gut?

I don't get that. I get beer ass and thighs. That reminds me that I have a pair of jeans to return.

Oh, I guess I don't.

I just noticed that I didn't get around to put an "About me" section on this page after I moved (thanks for the reminder Jim).

Okay, instead of doing the trite "100 things" that I always do, let's try something different.

Ask me some questions about myself (that won't make be blush).

I'll answer them as I have time and put them in a new section somewhere o'er thar-->

"Extreme!"

I thought it would be corny, and in a way it was, but it had me giggling like an immature 12-year-old for an hour and 20 minutes.

Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle--see it if you like stoner humor: it blows Dude, where's my car? (which sucked oh-so-much ass) right out of the water.

*cries a little*

Home Depot really doesn't have a whole hell of a lot of spring bulbs. Or any. Maybe I missed them, but um...isn't it still winter? Why are the summer bulbs all they have?

Anyhow, seeing as how everything in my yard blooms whenever the fuck they feel like it, I went ahead and bought an assload of orange crocosmia, some gladiolis, and some canna. They'll probably start shooting up next week if last year's premature irises are any indicator. I planted the canna today as the tree cutters played circus-freak up in the branches.

I plan on buying plants that grow disgustingly large (like pampas grass) and then flooding the front yard. It'll be like a swamp, see, with crazy shit growing everywhere....like Maybe, just maybe I'll even get a crocodile.

*sulks off discouraged at rapid moss invasion in yard*

Contemplation...

Have any of you ever bought bulbs (flower) from Home Depot or the like? Were they viable? Did they suck ass? Were they true to color?

I remember when I was living in the sticks and when you went to a feed and seed to buy agricultural products, you knew exactly what you were getting...not so much around here.

Oh well. I think I'll go buy some manure and make myself feel country out in the flower beds.

Tree guys are here....

...and they're blocking my driveway.

Scott hired some guys to cut down a dead tree in our back yard. They weren't supposed to be here until tomorrow or Thursday, but I guess they're taking advantage of the nice weather.

Technically, I shouldn't be home right now. I went to the dentist [Scott--I know why you called that one room the "closet" now] and figured, "Hey, let's actually get some home-related stuff done today!" so I took a half day off. Yes, Bossman did plead for my mercy. I told him that the plants will keep him company until tomorrow.

I haven't forgotten.

"Happy Valentine's Day."

*rolls eyes and makes retching noise*

I saw teenaged boys standing out in the rain waiting for the bus this morning holding some of those foil baloons. I guess they still do that thing at school where you drop your crap off at the office and the volunteers/class-skippers will deliver them to your sweetie.

I never got shit.

"Huh? You don't--huh?"

I just went out to get beer and Tater Tots pick up a pair of pants I'd dropped off at the dry cleaner's to have altered. The very last time I personally had something dry-cleaned it was my high school marching band uniform. The pants, tunic, and coat came up to a grand total of about $12.

I don't know why I listen to people. When I expressed to someone that I needed to have some pants shortened, they made it seem like this was going to be the most expensive proposition I'd ever embark upon. They told me they once paid $30 to have a shirt shortened.

I reasoned that since I'd bought the pants for a pretty damn good price ($27 marked down from $90), I'd still be saving if I paid that much to have them hemmed.

Fortunately, I only had to pay $7.49. By check.

For whatever reason, I had to find the one dry cleaner in town that isn't technologically forward enough to take plastic. I ended up messing up one check (when's the last time I had to write a check for less than $10? I accidentally wrote out the cents as dollars.) and writing another. To start with, I usually only write two checks per month: one for my car loan, and the other for my public radio pledge.

I think the clerk made it her own personal joke with the other customer who came in with a pile of linens (whom she knew by name). I could see them laughing through the windows as I went back out to the car. Yes, I am paranoid.

Next time, though, I think I'll go to Susie's Couture and Alterations like I'd originally planned but couldn't find. I bet they'll take plastic.

Drip.

Today I had to elucidate Oops! on what a Jheri Curl is...she's from New England. I'm not sure if that's an excuse.

Is anyone else out there clueless? Because I can recommend a fantastic movie as a reference.

"...follow the drip, just follow the drip."

Oops, I did it again.

I accidentally went shopping.

I had no intention of going back out once I got home. It's windy as hell and sort of cold. I think weather-chick called it "blustery."

I knew I had to go to Wal-Mart *spit* to get some cleaning supplies, so I didn't really overindulge much in there. I wanted to get out before even more rude-ass, aisle-blocking college kids got in there and started acting like they own the place. [I'm sorry if UNC lost last night--truly, I am--but move out of the damn-gone way!]

My next stop would be across the street to Kroger to get beer but I got sidetracked by the new Kohl's. Up until today I'd never been in one and I wanted to see if they had any good-looking denim [no].

They are, however, having a buy-one get-one free sale on a lot of items, namely housewares..........so, I um...bought a few things.

That would be four placemats, four napkins, two towels, two pot holders and a candy/oil thermometer.

I decided not to buy the $30 strainer.

Girls+Beer=Sexy

Walking out of the friendly neighborhood Kroger today I was being trailed by a guy on his cell phone. I'll relay his conversation for you:

"Hey, you still holding? Heh, I forgot you were there. What are you doing? Nothing, coming out of the store. I got distracted by this fine girl buying beer....no, she didn't even look at me. I guess she's pretending she can't hear me."

I think he was more attracted to my beer than to me.

Weird

How is it possible to be comment spammed without the comments actually showing up on your site?

I just opened my email client and disovered 57 new comment spam messages, and yet they're nowhere to be seen hereabouts.

Kooky.

"Here, meet my *cough*daughter*cough*"

My mother gave me a buzz at around 2:00ish saying that she, and a gaggle of coworkers, were on their way to Chapel Hill for some sort of banquet/training thingie.

I had to make sure I heard that correctly so I went outside and with suitable volume stated "Do what now?" into my cell phone.

To make a long story short, I drove to the hotel where she's staying and chilled for 20 minutes. I went wearing my favorite perfume: Eau de 3/4 Yuengling.

I reminded her of how old I am, and consequently how old my sister will be in April, and therefore how old she is.

Good times.

I think I scared her friends with my high-faluttin-ness. They have no idea. I think they thought that this is the big city. Pshaw.

*shakes fist*

I love him to death, but Scott has the terrible habit of telling me not to buy things in stores because he has whatever at home that I can have.

Liar.

Now I have to go back and get the thing I knew I needed to start with. GUH!

Buh-bye Citi

I just tearfully paid off my Citibank Visa. I've carried around that debt for five years, and for what? A dress to attend a sorority (not mine) Valentine's Day ball? *Edited to add: I just found a picture from that damned ball. See the extended entry.* A few steak dinners with classmates? I hope at at least bought a few textbooks with all that money. ... I doubt it.

Hmm. I look almost waif-like.

"Confuse-us Say..."

My fortune cookie from last night's dinner reads: "A diversity of friends is a credit to your flexible nature."

Pshaw. Couldn't be more wrong. I can be flexible. If I like you. If I merely tolerate you, I'm less willing to bend. Just ask my boss. He's come to terms with that.

I guess that explains why I have friends that are just. like. me.

How's that for diversity?

Snobs

Never go into a Barnes and Noble store when it's getting close to quittin' time. In my experience, the associates there tend to be snobs to begin with and look down their noses at your gauche purchases as they ring them up. Excuse me for wanting to read local authors. I'm sorry if it's not Chomsky.

If you make the mistake of resting your pile of selections on a table while examining another book, at least don't turn your back: you'll find that a little book elf has come by and snatched away your carefully-selected stack to return them to their homes.

I also always enjoy how I never get asked if I'd like to become a "Preferred Reader." They always ask if I have a card, and say that "Without a Preferred Reader card, your total will be...", but they never specifically ask if I want to sign up. Never. Oddly enough, Scott was in the line right behind me last night with a larger purchase. The same cashier gave him a high-pressure sales pitch about being a Preferred Reader and lauded the program's great savings.

Bitch. I stood there by the door and watched her check him out, making it perfectly obvious that, Hey, I'm with him.

I like my book shopping experience to include people who circle around the store offering tips and saying "Hey, I've read that! It's pretty good!" not corralling themselves behind one counter to look things up on a computer.

Sometimes mass marketing sucks.

I'm a bawler.

I can't go into a Hallmark store without getting weepy.

I stand around reading all that sentimental crap and start thinking, "Oh MY GOD, that is so true, I love them SO MUCH!" Then I pick up something with a bible verse and get over myself: nothing like some Leviticus to get you over your mushies.

Yes, I am one of those people who spends thirty minutes standing in one spot trying to pick out the perfect card for whatever occassion. I'm not satisfied unless my eyes tear up to sniffle extremes.

I came out of Hallmark with seven cards--no 99 cent ones, either--and one of those card storage boxes they're selling in the commercial (you know, the one where the little boy is asking his mom if she has any "sorry" cards because he fucked up his brother's hair?)

This was actually a pretty good deal. For an additional $6.95 I have somewhere to put all my cards without them getting bent up before the occasion and three free cards to boot...and some coupons.

I love having new toys.

Solicitors

I hate solicitors. One just came to the door with a big crate-o-crap to sell and an order form which he promptly left in my custody with instruction that he'd return next friday to pick up the samples and the orders.

Fuck. What's the point of locking the door if they can see me through it?

Yes, FedEx did leave it outside.

My new HP printer and monitor arrived today. They're so pretty *pats them*.

I have the monitor plugged into my laptop because my laptop screen has the shits and only lights up every now and then.

I think I'm going to be ghetto and leave the protective plastic cover on the monitor for a few days--just until the newness wears off.

The funny thing about the new printer is my computer is too dumb for it. When I was installing the drivers, the installation wizard actually suggested that I upgrade to a new computer. The nerve.

Anyhow, my CPU is supposed to ship by the 8th along with my wireless keyboard and mouse.

I'm so excited I could pee.

Hold on...

I forgot what I was going to blog.

Shit. I hate it when that happens.

Name Game

I think there's something wrong with the phones at work. I very distinctively hear myself telling people that "This is Tiffany" only to hear at least 45% of the conversees say, "Oh, hey Stephanie." Oh, that just burns my biscuits.

I know it can't just be me. Mr. 9.9 keeps getting called George, which sounds nothing like his name. Hat Guy keeps getting his last name pronouced as "Heisterburger" which adds a full syllable where one doesn't belong.

How do you correct people when they mispronouce your name?

I usually don't correct them unless they specifically ask if they're pronoucing it right. Mr. 9.9 will pointedly say something along the lines of, "This is CORRECT NAME SAID LOUDLY." Hat Guy will merely go, "Oh, hey, this is Hat Guy," without bothering to acknowledge the error.

tick tick BOOM!

Ugh.

This started as one of those mornings where I was all gung-ho about getting a laundry list of tasks accomplished by 5 p.m. or so.

I've gotten only one of those things accomplished and that was purely by accident.

Task number one was to go online and order a refill box of contact lenses. When I went to 1800contacts.com, I saw that my brand had "DISCONTINUED" stamped across the picture. I called them to query why and was told that they hadn't gotten any shipped to them in a while and the manufacturer wasn't being forthcoming with why. Okay. I tried Super Jumbo Retailer sites and they also didn't carry the brand. I saw on one e-distributor's website the following message concerning their in-stock lenses:

"The manufacturer of Proclear Compatibles® brand contact lenses advises that counterfeit Proclear lenses have been found in the U.S. market.

We have conducted a thorough review of our records and inventory and believe that lenses purchased at our webstore are authentic; however, because of our commitment to patient safety and education, we have decided to notify our customers of the manufacturer’s concerns."

Okay, so that answers the question...but like hell if I want to order them now considering there are some whackjobs out there trying to sell black market lenses. Ugh, decisions.

Task number two was to carry out a return visit of the girly-bits doctor. I left work at 12:30 for the afternoon and when I got to the parking lot of the clinic I was checking my planner for whatever reason and noticed that my appointment wasn't supposed to be until tomorrow. Oops...instead of driving back to work like a truly industrious person would, I went arts and crafts shopping. When I got home I tried to reschedule my appointment for Friday (when the office will be desserted and I can basically sit on my thumbs) and was told that the only available slots were for this afternoon. So I went back.

I didn't have to wait long to ushered back into the lair, but I did sit in the exam room for an unGodly amount of time waiting for the doctor. I sat there so long that I read every Female Reproductive Diagram on the walls and could have stolen a whole purse full of Trojan female condoms ("ribbed for her pleasure!").

Girly Bits doc wasn't completely convinced that my uterus is all well and good, but anyhow....

The third thing I was supposed to accomplish today was to pay some bills online. Seeing as how I got up early and purchased a computer and made a couple of purchases since lunch, that would require me to reconcile my checkbook. I don't feel like it, and therefore no bills will be paid tonight.

I don't particuarly care that one of them is three days late.