Too bad Kris is on a mountaintop in New Mexico, probably without access to high-speed internet service, because look what I just found: more photos of Daniel Craig as James Bond.
30 December, 2006
So you may not have gathered this information if you haven't been reading the comments, but Mr. Man & I are home alone at present. Meaning without our children. It feels really weird, but I know the kids are having an awesome time at Grannie's house without us. While we were all there for x-mas, they kept asking us "When are you leaving?! You go home now!". So we did. And sometime after we got home on Tuesday, or maybe it was Wednesday morning, I said "Hey. Let's rip up this nasty, stained carpet in the living room. We could never do this if the kids were here. Let's just do it now." And Mr. Man said "Are you sure?" and I said "It looks like we took some extra-greasy homeless guy off the street and rolled him around in here until all the stink came off of him and stayed on the carpet. Yes, I'm sure." And he said "Well, we don't really have enough money right now to put anything down over the concrete slab. it's gonna be cold, and hard, and echo-y. And I said "I. don't. care. I would rather look at/decorate the concrete slab (until we can cover it with wood, bamboo, tile, etc.) than ever put my bare foot on top of that cat vomit and fetid chocolate milk*-infested carpet ever again."
Let me clarify a point here. The carpet didn't smell like an extra-greasy homeless guy. It only looked bad. As far as I know. You know how a house can have a secret smell of which the occupants are unaware? Like, everyone else knows about the smell except the people who live there and are so accustomed to it that they can no longer detect it? I live in fear of that house being my house.
So all of you people who know me in real life, please have the human decency to tell me if my house ever smells like, you know, whatever. Bad. Just tell me, please. Nag Champa is pretty cheap. That being said, this is perhaps not the best format for such shame-inducing criticism. So let's have that conversation in private, I beg of you.
* I chose not to list above everything else that has landed on that stretch of carpet since we bought this house, like coffee, wine, kid pee & vomit, markers, etc. You get the idea. And this only covers the stuff we know about, the stuff we as the current owner/occupants put there. What about everything the previous owners deposited on said carpet. Enter, stage left, Fear of the Unknown. Which keeps reminding me of the episode of the U.S. version of The Office, in which Michael & Dwight attempt to throw a party while attending a convention at a hotel. In Michael's hotel room, these two turn on a blacklight and all these stains suddenly appear, all over the bed and on the wall above the bed. Michael asks "What is that stuff?" and Dwight, summoning his CSI knowledge, replies "Either urine or semen.". Then Michael says, kind of plaintively, "Oh God I hope it's urine.".
Anyway, back to the carpet. So, we move all the furniture out of the living room and start yanking out the carpet, after Mr. Man once again says "are you sure? No matter what is under here, you want the carpet out?" which makes me think, "what does he think is under here??" and I say "YES".
So we did it. We ripped out the carpet like we ourselves were home improvement ninjas. And we rolled it up, and carried it outside along with all the padding (Yuck!) and shoved it into our CR-V and drove to the municipal landfill. See, one bonus of living in the 'hood with the po fokes is that the Dump is located so conveniently close to our house. All those people who live in the white neighborhoods west of I-35, or even west of Mopac, have to drive (or pay their lackeys to drive) so much farther than we do. Yea!
Ya'll, have you ever been to the Dump? Well, I never had. Until yesterday. I don't ever want to go back. It smells alot like Mexico. Not the beautiful Yucatan (the Mexican Riviera!) part of Mexico, I'm talking back alley sections of Nuevo Laredo, without the benefit of an occasional whiff of delicious refritos drifting past your nose or the possibility of scoring some hash. No, at The Dump, they have posted those "No smoking beyond this point" signs for a good reason. Your face could burst into flames from the fumes.
After leaving our nasty carpet & padding behind us for the swarming seagulls to pick over (wtf? what can they possibly find to eat there? and how far away is the ocean?) we drove home to clean the concrete slab. It was kinda gross.
End of part 1. I promise photos with the next part. Yeehaa!
28 December, 2006
27 December, 2006
I love listening to this on the computer in my spare (ha!) time.
Which is where I first read this:
Poem: "Some People" written by Rolf Jacobsen and translated by Robert Bly, from The Winged Energy of Delight. © Harper Collins Publishers.
ascend out of our life, some people
enter our life,
uninvited and sit down,
calmly walk by, some people
give you a rose,
or buy you a new car,
stand so close to you, some people,
you've entirely forgotten
some people, some people
are actually you,
you've never seen at all, some people
eat asparagus, some people
some people climb up on the roof,
sit down at table,
lie around in hammocks, take walks with their red
some people look at you,
some people have never noticed you at all, some people
want to take your hand, some people
die during the night,
some people are other people, some people are you, some people
some people do.
Happy New Year! May 2007 hold more of everything you want (peace, joy, etc.) and less of everything you don't want (war, grumpiness, etc.).
I have loads of ideas for blog entries containing actual writing, instead of just pictures. Hopefully I will get around to them this year. Then, in the immortal words of Spalding Gray, let the judgment flow!
23 December, 2006
** I forgot to say this photo was taken at Sinda's white elephant gift exchange party. Paula got extra-lucky with this gift, although I'm still wondering what sort of "Adults-only" gift Thomas & Susan left with. They snuck out without showing us what was in the box!**
Look what Santa brought for Paula: Andy's hand-crafted earrings.
Isn't she a beatific model? You can almost hear a chorus of angels singing...
15 December, 2006
14 December, 2006
13 December, 2006
that Sugarbear accompanied me to the Flagship Whole Foods store when I only needed to buy TWO ITEMS and we needed to get in and out IN LESS THAN FIVE MINUTES and I thought we could do it! It can be done, right?? Sure it can! By OTHERS.
I chose the self-checkout lane because I thought it would be faster. HAHAHA. That is so funny!
Because you know what happened? Sugarbear found a secret, partially-but-not-well-enough hidden big red button WHICH SHUTS DOWN THE WHOLE REGISTER AND CAUSES THAT COMPUTER TO REBOOT. Who even knew such a switch existed, and why would some asshole designer put that switch at a height of 18 inches off the floor?
Tell me your stories, people. I want to hear them. They will make me feel better about having a child with this kind of special talent.
You know that Pizzicato Five song? Well, I'm happy because Twisty got fantastic news regarding her previous incanceration. They scanned her everywhichaway and found nothing, so Yea!
But I'm sad because Ducky has thrown in the towel on this whole "blogosphere" thingy. And that makes this place a lot less interesting, not to mention less funny.