People To Do and Places To See.
Yah. I'll be back dudes. Whenever. Got a lot of stuff to do. Yah, I know, we're all busy, what makes me so special? Sure I know professional bloggers never miss a beat, they are always up with the chickens getting stuff done, but you know popularity has it's price, I'm sure instapundit guy doesn't just slack off whenever he feels like it. Since this site is decidedly not popular, I don't think those rules really apply to me so I'll be back when I darn well feel like it.
About a month ought to do it. By then we should be done signing our life away, moving all of our crap out of storage, putting it back in the house we lived in less than a year ago, and hopefully getting on with our lives quite well. That's some sort of wicked twist of fate or something. Sure buying a house we already lived in sort of takes the excitement out of it in a way, I mean it's sort of like, hey have a look around, oh wait, you've already been over here twenty different times and pretty much nothing has changed. Hey, it's our new house, we already lived in it, but it's new now because we don't pay $800 in rent anymore, now we pay $1150 to a mortgage. What the, are we dumb?
Oh did I tell you? The house we are buying is daddy in law's house, the one we rented from him, well he decided to sell it, and hubby and I decided to buy it. We liked living there, it was a cute little house. I forgot I deleted over a years worth of stuff when I killed the blog in a bout of bipolar disorder, somewhere in all that mess was the story of how daddy in law broke up with his darling German girlfriend who WE adored, and how he decided he wanted his house back, so we obliged and moved out. Now daddy in law is girlfriend less and wants nothing more than to sell his house, so we are going to buy it.
You know that show, what do you get for the money on HGTV? Well, here's what we got, you're going to shit. Now we looked around for months, well I did, hubby basically said "let me know when you narrow the freakin list down a bit, I hate shopping, and you know that." In our price range, 150k there are a lot of fixer uppers, we visited one in the $130k price range and it literally smelled funny, had about 5 different types of carpet in the span of 7 rooms, the siding was melted on the back of the house, and the house was obviously painted by a very sick woman with horrid taste in colors, styles and borders. It was awful, did I mention it smelled?
Then we found out dad in law was selling. Now his is a bit older house, built in the 70s. Here are the selling features of THE house, corner lot, brand spanking new furnace, newer water heater, roof replaced in 1999, fresh paint, newly remodeled bathroom/laundry room, new carpet downstairs, lovely brick patio, three bedroom, two bath tri-level. I just realized I missed my calling as a real estate agent.
The house is cute even if it is really small. It's built well, and has few things wrong with it. It needs some new gutters, or to at least have them fixed/patched. In this drought that's not too much of a big deal, we can do that. The cost is high, but we're not going to find anything better for the price. People are selling stinky houses with absolutely no up keep for 130. Anyway, we're buying it, we like the house, and we enjoyed living in it. We're lucky in a way, most people don't get to live in the house before they buy. We stayed right in our price range of 150, for you nosey peeps who are like, "just tell us how much dang it!"
With that said, I've got a lot of stuff to do in the next few weeks. I'm trying to get stuff ready to move, plus it's summer so we've been going swimming just about every night, and it has always been difficult for me to have time to get on the computer since we moved in with family. I'm just so grateful to my parents for putting up with us the last 8 months, they helped us immensely, even still I can't wait to get the hell out of here we all need our own space, and I'm positive that they can't wait either.
But let me tell you this, I've got such a rant stirring within me about freaking snotty old people. I'm fed up with them. Seriously, it's not enough that we have to fund your freakin retirement as you sit in your paid off houses which were actually affordable, no you have to get annoyed that there are children in the pool, how about showing some respect huh? These kids are going to be paying for your drugs, your monthly social security check, and then some, while you retire in your life of luxury in your paid off affordable house, and with the savings you had from not having to pay 50% or more of your income to taxes your WHOLE ENTIRE LIFE. Not to mention all they are going to pay for the rest of society's sponges. Let the kids swim in the pool without you scowling and throwing a tantrum. You owe them.
Yeah. I'll be back.
Friday, June 30, 2006
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Oh My Gosh
We're Off.
Okay, so in just a few short moments (when I get my butt of this computer) hubby and I are going to meet with a mortgage lady and hopefully after jumping through a series of hoops, and cutting through enormous amounts of red tape, we will--with all of our hair still intact--be getting a house within the next month or so. We actually already know which house, but I'll save that exciting detail for later. I know it's not really exciting to anyone anyway. Ironically, I think it might be more of an irony thing about the house, but I could be wrong. Yeah, I know, I did that.
I'll be back soon. Pray with good news.
Okay, so in just a few short moments (when I get my butt of this computer) hubby and I are going to meet with a mortgage lady and hopefully after jumping through a series of hoops, and cutting through enormous amounts of red tape, we will--with all of our hair still intact--be getting a house within the next month or so. We actually already know which house, but I'll save that exciting detail for later. I know it's not really exciting to anyone anyway. Ironically, I think it might be more of an irony thing about the house, but I could be wrong. Yeah, I know, I did that.
I'll be back soon. Pray with good news.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
One Month
Smoke Free.
I know you insurance spammers who actually leave comments are happy for me. Thanks. Thanks for letting me know I've got the best blog on the web. I'm sorry to say I pretty much despise insurance companies, but at least you visit. I find it rather hilarious actually that my most frequent commenter is an insurance spammer. You would think that I would not even bother, but I am a glutton for embarrassing and humiliating myself. Sure, I still read bloggers who have come to their senses and delinked me. I don't blame certain people for removing the link to my site, I did feel a bit hurt about it, but I'm way too sensitive about things anyway.
I thought it would be fun to write a blog, make friends with people, climb some imaginary ladder of success and be well thought of by people who share the same values, but I was wrong. My motives and my intentions were narcissitic, and ego driven. Writing was one of my favorite tasks in school. I'm not all great at it or anything, but like singing, I enjoy doing it even though I don't necessarily have an aptitude for it. It brings me joy. That's why I'm still putting stuff out there. Other people inspired me to do this, but I continue to do it for me, and I'm thrilled if someone else is moved by anything written here, but other than leaving a comment, I have no way of knowing at all if that is the case.
I know there are a precious few people out there who link to this site, and I'm honestly thankful and happy for them. I do read my handful of favorites whenever I sit down at the computer. I know I should comment more and let them know I do enjoy their efforts, but I do send them happy vibes no matter what.
Well. There it is. I'm a kook.
I know you insurance spammers who actually leave comments are happy for me. Thanks. Thanks for letting me know I've got the best blog on the web. I'm sorry to say I pretty much despise insurance companies, but at least you visit. I find it rather hilarious actually that my most frequent commenter is an insurance spammer. You would think that I would not even bother, but I am a glutton for embarrassing and humiliating myself. Sure, I still read bloggers who have come to their senses and delinked me. I don't blame certain people for removing the link to my site, I did feel a bit hurt about it, but I'm way too sensitive about things anyway.
I thought it would be fun to write a blog, make friends with people, climb some imaginary ladder of success and be well thought of by people who share the same values, but I was wrong. My motives and my intentions were narcissitic, and ego driven. Writing was one of my favorite tasks in school. I'm not all great at it or anything, but like singing, I enjoy doing it even though I don't necessarily have an aptitude for it. It brings me joy. That's why I'm still putting stuff out there. Other people inspired me to do this, but I continue to do it for me, and I'm thrilled if someone else is moved by anything written here, but other than leaving a comment, I have no way of knowing at all if that is the case.
I know there are a precious few people out there who link to this site, and I'm honestly thankful and happy for them. I do read my handful of favorites whenever I sit down at the computer. I know I should comment more and let them know I do enjoy their efforts, but I do send them happy vibes no matter what.
Well. There it is. I'm a kook.
Monday, June 12, 2006
He's Not Bothered In The Least
The Trouble With Birds.
Well, they have brains the size of uncracked sunflower seeds, or at least I imagine so. For the third straight day in a row the birds in the backyard have worked themselves into quite a tizzy. Chasing and dive bombing my sweet dog, they've been making a big old ruckus all around us. I don't know what my dog has done to vex their ire, but they are really ticked at him. It has something to do with babies I guess.
Just a couple of days ago hubby found two dead baby birds in the yard, and one apparently had bite marks on it. Now, we are guessing the dog did not actually climb the tree to get a tasty bird mc nugget out of the spring nests, but that doesn't mean he didn't decide to gnaw the head off of the baby bird that mistakenly fell out of one. Hypocrites! Birds have been known to throw their own offspring right out of the nest, but oh let it happen on accident and somehow their little pea brains can retain a grudge, for at least 3 days so far as I can tell.
I got up bright and early this morning, took a shower, made coffee with the sole intention of sitting on the back porch dreaming of smoking a cigarette--I'm still a humongous quitter by the way, going on 3rd week as we speak--and drinking coffee, my only vice. But no. The dog came out with me, and from then on it was squawk this, squack that, and a bunch of silly birds making a pure nuisance out of themselves, making me wish I owned a pea shooter.
The dog did not seem phased the least little bit, in fact, he pretty much ignored them and carried on marking all of his favorite spots as I sat there sipping my coffee thinking, "oh sheesh, will you silly birds at least be quiet about your dive bombing!" They really hate that dog now.
Then I thought how much my mom hates birds. Now, I actually do like birds even if I shouldn't given my history with them but, I find them quite interesting and could see myself on some sort of bird watching expedition, something my mother would never do, and would only express distaste for. I guess I can't blame her, she was attacked by one afterall. She was just a 9 year old kid when that mean old chicken attacked her. It might have been a rooster, I'm not sure now the details are dodgy. Something about her copping a squat, and a chicken tearing after her. I don't know, but chickens are vile smelly mean birds who deserve to be eaten because they do taste so good.
Of course mom never forgave the chicken, and to this day holds a personal grudge against all birds. I do remember as a child watching her cut up a chicken, she seemed to pretty happy to dip the thing in flour and fry it up. I admit she didn't look at all resentful either when she did it. Even so, she does get very nervous around birds and would prefer they go away all together.
These birds are small, they don't even really make contact, "what could they do to really hurt me?" I wondered. Well, I don't know what my mom has been complaining about, at least she is not a walking target for the darn things. Oh yes, it's a big family joke, I get pooped on all the time by stupid birds. Haha! Look at the drippings in my hair! What are the odds really? Is it just me, or have I been at the unfortunate end of the bird's wrath more times then is fair? I can recall quite clearly at least 3 times I've been hit, and I mean hit. The gooey stuff running down my forehead, and a big clump of it in my hair.
I'd just be innocently playing outside as a child and the critters would poop on me, but the worst was right after we returned from being overseas for 3 years. Even as we flew over the Pacific ocean my husband and I had one restaurant on our minds. They make THE best Mongolian Beef and Sesame Chicken we've ever had, and that includes any we tried in actual Asia. It was the first place we intended to go, and we got all prettied up and headed out. As we got out of the car, we noticed a loud flock of birds making quite a lot of noise in the huge tree outside the restaurant, and sure enough, splat! Right in my hair.
It was one of those where my husband points and laughs, and then sees my face and stops immediately and looks concerned. Our plans would not be ruined. No. "This has happened too many times!'' I declared. "I'm not going to let these stupid birds stop me!" So, we went back to the car, found some tissue, wiped the pooh out of my hair as best we could, and I mean it was some sticky clumpy stuff. I finished the job in the bathroom, and we had our dinner. I may have looked like that chick in Something About Mary, but at least we got our Mongolian Beef. My family just thinks it's so funny that we went on in and ate despite the poop, they don't realize that 3 years was a long time without good American Chinese food.
These birds are really too much. As I sit typing this, they have swooped my cat sitting in the window just trying to enjoy some morning air. Swooped a cat! Now come on. Tell me these critters are smart huh? That's just not real bright. The cat's face read, "oh yeah, come a little closer baby!"
Well, they have brains the size of uncracked sunflower seeds, or at least I imagine so. For the third straight day in a row the birds in the backyard have worked themselves into quite a tizzy. Chasing and dive bombing my sweet dog, they've been making a big old ruckus all around us. I don't know what my dog has done to vex their ire, but they are really ticked at him. It has something to do with babies I guess.
Just a couple of days ago hubby found two dead baby birds in the yard, and one apparently had bite marks on it. Now, we are guessing the dog did not actually climb the tree to get a tasty bird mc nugget out of the spring nests, but that doesn't mean he didn't decide to gnaw the head off of the baby bird that mistakenly fell out of one. Hypocrites! Birds have been known to throw their own offspring right out of the nest, but oh let it happen on accident and somehow their little pea brains can retain a grudge, for at least 3 days so far as I can tell.
I got up bright and early this morning, took a shower, made coffee with the sole intention of sitting on the back porch dreaming of smoking a cigarette--I'm still a humongous quitter by the way, going on 3rd week as we speak--and drinking coffee, my only vice. But no. The dog came out with me, and from then on it was squawk this, squack that, and a bunch of silly birds making a pure nuisance out of themselves, making me wish I owned a pea shooter.
The dog did not seem phased the least little bit, in fact, he pretty much ignored them and carried on marking all of his favorite spots as I sat there sipping my coffee thinking, "oh sheesh, will you silly birds at least be quiet about your dive bombing!" They really hate that dog now.
Then I thought how much my mom hates birds. Now, I actually do like birds even if I shouldn't given my history with them but, I find them quite interesting and could see myself on some sort of bird watching expedition, something my mother would never do, and would only express distaste for. I guess I can't blame her, she was attacked by one afterall. She was just a 9 year old kid when that mean old chicken attacked her. It might have been a rooster, I'm not sure now the details are dodgy. Something about her copping a squat, and a chicken tearing after her. I don't know, but chickens are vile smelly mean birds who deserve to be eaten because they do taste so good.
Of course mom never forgave the chicken, and to this day holds a personal grudge against all birds. I do remember as a child watching her cut up a chicken, she seemed to pretty happy to dip the thing in flour and fry it up. I admit she didn't look at all resentful either when she did it. Even so, she does get very nervous around birds and would prefer they go away all together.
These birds are small, they don't even really make contact, "what could they do to really hurt me?" I wondered. Well, I don't know what my mom has been complaining about, at least she is not a walking target for the darn things. Oh yes, it's a big family joke, I get pooped on all the time by stupid birds. Haha! Look at the drippings in my hair! What are the odds really? Is it just me, or have I been at the unfortunate end of the bird's wrath more times then is fair? I can recall quite clearly at least 3 times I've been hit, and I mean hit. The gooey stuff running down my forehead, and a big clump of it in my hair.
I'd just be innocently playing outside as a child and the critters would poop on me, but the worst was right after we returned from being overseas for 3 years. Even as we flew over the Pacific ocean my husband and I had one restaurant on our minds. They make THE best Mongolian Beef and Sesame Chicken we've ever had, and that includes any we tried in actual Asia. It was the first place we intended to go, and we got all prettied up and headed out. As we got out of the car, we noticed a loud flock of birds making quite a lot of noise in the huge tree outside the restaurant, and sure enough, splat! Right in my hair.
It was one of those where my husband points and laughs, and then sees my face and stops immediately and looks concerned. Our plans would not be ruined. No. "This has happened too many times!'' I declared. "I'm not going to let these stupid birds stop me!" So, we went back to the car, found some tissue, wiped the pooh out of my hair as best we could, and I mean it was some sticky clumpy stuff. I finished the job in the bathroom, and we had our dinner. I may have looked like that chick in Something About Mary, but at least we got our Mongolian Beef. My family just thinks it's so funny that we went on in and ate despite the poop, they don't realize that 3 years was a long time without good American Chinese food.
These birds are really too much. As I sit typing this, they have swooped my cat sitting in the window just trying to enjoy some morning air. Swooped a cat! Now come on. Tell me these critters are smart huh? That's just not real bright. The cat's face read, "oh yeah, come a little closer baby!"
Monday, June 05, 2006
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