Making friends and making beds
2006-09-09 4:47 p.m.
Some of my friends moved in down the street from me today. I showed up just as everyone was breaking for lunch. Do I have good timing or what? I sat on their lovely side patio in the shade watching everyone eating and drinking and just enjoying everyone's company. It's not often I have so many of my friends close to me at the same time. It was nice talking and joking around. Eventually the conversation of course, turned to Steve Irwin. During a lull in the conversation I blurted out: "You know, the saddest thing about all of this is we'll never get to see Koalas on a Plane."
Complete and total silence.
Just when I was thinking that everyone decided I was a total geek and I would never be invited out again ever - the patio exploded in laughter. I guess it was a joke grenade. The boys went to pick up another load and I offered to help Clumsie Girl put together her bed. Her boyfriend wouldn't have cared if they slept on the floor in their new house tonight, but I know girls, and us girls need our comfy beds if we're going to have a good night's sleep. It took three of us, but it's all together and looks fabulous. She'll sleep well in her pretty new house tonight.
0 People have tried to sell me ViagraWater we hardly knew ye.
2006-09-08 9:29 p.m.
It's really hard not to be pissed off at anyone else but myself, but I'll try. I was leaving for work, all aflush with excitement for the new work day, when I noticed a threatening piece of red paper shoved in my fence. Another death threat, I thought. No, it turned out I haven't paid my water bill in a wee bit an they decided to turn it off. My fault. I've got a stack of mail on the table that I've put off dealing with, because I've been sick, blah, blah, blah. But why would they shove this in the fence and not say, in a mailbox that is only five more steps away?
I frantically call customer service. "Is your water actually turned off?" Alex asked me. I go back inside, turn off alarm, scare hell out of cats, run sink and flush toilet. Yes, Houston, we have water. "Not a problem," says Alex. "Pay your bill today and it's no big freaking deal." I drive downtown, throw my stuff in my cubicle, walk up to the Portlandia Building and pay my bill. Surly woman named Helen behind four inches of plexiglass refuses to assure me that I will have water when I get home. "But I talked to Alex! I had water when I left! Promises were made! I just gave you a wad of money!" I was begining to think that the four inches of plexiglass was not due to the fact that many people pay their water bill in cash, but in fact many people wanted to throttle Helen with their bare hands. In fact, I was imagining myself throttling Helen with my bare hands.
I had very bad feeling at work. That same feeling you have when your boyfriend says that he's just friends with his ex-girlfirend and he grabs all his friend's asses that way. I just had this horrible feeling that my water pipes were seeing someone else, that they were letting someone else diddle their valves.
I grab as much work as I can carry without slipping a disc and drive home as fast as I can. I run to the sink and NO FUCKING WATER. I call customer service. I talk to Cheryl. I'm fairly certain I sound like I'm on crack because it's Friday at 3:30pm and I am imagining going for the entire weekend without water. "But Cheryl! (for some reason my Southern accent starts coming out here) I've got babies. Me and my babies can't go the entire weekend without water. It's hot. We'll - we'll - WE'LL ALL DIE." I look at my cats, willing them not to meow and give away the fact that my babies are in fact actually cats. Cheryl assures me I'm on the docket and the Water Crew does not go home until everyone's water has been turned back on. She assures me over and over again that my account on the computer shows that everything's been paid and the water guy is on his way! We're all systems go, Houston! *Thumbs up!*
9:10pm Turn on sink. No water. Try the bathtub and bathroom sink just for fun. Not even a drip. Call customer service. They are closed until Monday. For an outrageous fee I can press "1" and be connected with dispatch. I bite my lip and press 1. Squeaky voice teen answers phone "Secu-curity desk!" "Uh, yeah, I'm trying to contact the dispatch crew." "You go-ot him!" I tell him the entire story. He takes down name and address and phone number. He tells me his Dispatch Crew is almost done for the night and they are in SW (read other side of the river). Squeaky tells me I'll need to sign a sheet of paper which says they can charge me an additional seventy five dollars to hook up my water after hours.
I pull pants down, lean over and tell Sqeaky to ram it up my ass because I've got no fucking water and I need to flush the god damn toilet because it's disgusting and how the hell am I going to wash my make up off when I only have half a bottle of Dansai left? I tell Squeaky calmly that's fine, he says I can contest it with customer service on Monday and I don't have to actually pay anything tonight. I re-imagine throttling Helen and somehow find my calm place.
I still don't have water. I decided to put on a tight white top with no bra and see if The Dispatch Crew will keep me from signing the seventy five dollar piece of paper. Maybe I could borrow the neighbor's baby...
UPDATE 10:09pm Operation Booberalla was a complete successs. Mr. Wood, not making this stuff up people, waived all fees and turned my water back on with his big tool. Enough innuendo. I'm going to drink water, take a bath, flush the toilet, wash things and do whatever else I can think of to do with water. The moral of this story is to open your mail in a prompt manner. Thanks to Jesse who texted my home phone which was akin to having a computer call me and tell me that he had water if I needed it.
0 People have tried to sell me ViagraStop the Harvest Moon
2006-09-07 10:04 p.m.
This picture doesn't do the moon justice. It was huge and a beautiful golden color tonight. I could see it looming over the horizon as I drove home from Safeway. I threw the groceries on the kitchen floor and ran outside with my camera. I bumped into my neighbor, Jim, who's retired and likes to walk in the evenings. He followed me around, yacking, and we finally found a place (63rd) where we could see the moon. "Wow! I'm glad you told me about this," he said as I started snapping pictures. He proceeded to tell me all about his brilliant daughter who is a pole vaulter and works on the Ellen Degeneres show. He walked me home and I'm sure he could have talked my ear off for an hour or two, but I made a hasty retreat. I didn't want the cats to eat the donuts lying on the kitchen floor. Those are mine!
Ninja Neighborhood Watch, Sex Dreams and Comic Strips.
2006-09-07 2:53 a.m.
Ever since my car got broken into I've had a difficult time sleeping at night. Not so much insomnia, but more like I've taken it upon myself to be the Angry Ninja of Neighborhood Watch. I stay up way too late, working, watching Tivo or playing on my new laptop. Sometimes all at the same time. I'm the queen of multitasking. Every now and then I'll strap on the katana and skulk around the house, doing flips off the dining room table, rolling on the ground and popping up at each window, making sure that there's no hoodlums outside.
Eventually, I get tired and go to bed to read for a bit, while listening intently for any sounds of crime. Sometimes I'll nod off, but as I'm currently reading a rather large hardcover, when my hands go lax the book will fall and whack me in the forehead, waking me up again. I usually go through the whacking routine four times before I decided to finally pack it in and go to sleep.
This morning the Fed Ex guy woke me up. He had a package for me (heh heh, no a real package) so I forgave him. I wrote up a letter, returned phone calls for work then decided to lay back down for just a wee bit.
And I had the most amazing Victorian era sex dream ever. I was wearing a white chemise and peeking through the windows of my house and could see across the street into a lush fabric store. There were huge swaths of thick velvet, brocade silk and embroidered cotton hanging from the ceiling. The owner's son spotted me peeping and walked across the street with desire in his eyes and designs in his heart. I remember leaning back against the bookcase, my hands above my head holding onto the tops of the books for courage as I watched the doornob slowly turn. He came into the room walked directly up to me and had his way with me right there. Nothing was said and I didn't resist (like I would, come on, it's my dream). I woke up snuggling my katana sword. Someday I'm going to wake up without my spleen. Gotta be more careful.
I played around with a free comic book program that came with my computer and came up with a dating angst strip. How utterly appropriate.
0 People have tried to sell me Viagra
My Father the Retired Fireman.
2006-09-05 5:36 p.m.
In case any of you were wondering where I inherited my Three Stooges-esque lifestyle I'd like to present you with an e-mail I just received from my father (my father starts every e-mail to everyone the same way - Yo!):
Yo,
We picked up a huge pot yesterday for the Great Plant Picks garden in Puyallup. It took two of us to load it into the back of the Lexus. We are going to plant Sedums in it and they like dry feet, so yesterday I drilled another hole in the pot. Today I drilled additional holes and was working on the last one with a masonry bit when the paper [I didn't know there was paper, wood, & bamboo inside] caught on fire. "Holy Crap" I shouted as the car started filling with smoke. I yelled at mom who was in the greenhouse "The pot in the car is on fire!" She came running and handed me the garden hosen then ran in the other direction and turned the water on full bore. I took a quick shot through the hole. Since the water was on full, it blasted all the paper and soot into the front seat, but at least the fire was out. I just cleaned up the mess and have the doors and windows open, airing the car out. Talk about your "Keystone" firemen.
Holy Crap,
Dad
Attack of the Killer Cat Poop
2006-09-04 2:25 p.m.
I was doing what I do best, laying on the couch and watching Tivo when Loki came speeding into the room howling. Once he hit the rug in the livingroom he dropped on his ass, put his hind legs in the air and proceeded to drag himself around the coffee table with his front legs. At first I thought this was perhaps part of a comedy routine, I half expected him to start making motor boat noises with his mouth as he made a couple of quick laps around the table.
When he leaped up and ran away, looking for more carpet, which isn't easy as my house is mostly hardwoods and linoleum, I saw what the problem was. To hear Loki tell the story, he was casually doing his business in the litter box while leafing through the newest issue of Cat Fancy magazine, when a piece of his own poop leaped up from the litter box, bit him in the ass and hung on for dear life. Hence, the scooting was him trying to dislodge the attacker.
What happened next can only be described as a Benny Hill-esque montage with me running around with a wad of toilet paper and Loki desperately trying to outrun his attacker. Trinity had to join in the fun as well, as this was obviously some sort of family marathon. After a few laps around the entire house, I was finally able to tackle Loki and wipe his butt. Unfortunately, all his scooting had done nothing more than grind the poop into his tail.
I proceeded to get a warm washcloth covered in damask rose bubble bath and held him down and washed the heck out of his backside. I think he was so embarassed he went completely limp and astral projected himself somewhere that cats have high fiber diets and this sort of thing never ever happens. He probably also thought this may be a better alternative than the usual route of cleaning which includes his own tongue.
He seemed to perk up after he dried off. I thought he'd pout for awhile, but he kept walking across me, rubbing his cold nose on my shoulder and then flipping his rose scented tail up my nose in what I'm sure is the feline equivalent of "pull my finger."
0 People have tried to sell me ViagraNo Longer a Video Virgin.
2006-09-03 9:26 p.m.
Here's my very first video blog entry! I love technology. This is a totally unscripted improvised post. I'm also not wearing any make up. My skin looks pretty fabulous but I could do with a little lipstick and eyeliner. Sorry. Just consider this Kungfukitten Beta. Click the icon below - you need flash to see it. Whee!
