AED: i am ALWAYS thirsty
Me: it's the meth
AED: I kNow!
AED: even before i started the meth i was a heavy drinker.
Me: mmmm
Me: no diabetes?
AED: its terminal
Me: it's not terminal
AED: naw. of course, the two creme filled sammich cookies i just ate might make it appear differently
Me: hehee
Me: I just ate a bunch of fudge sticks
AED: yum! what kind?
Me: Western Family!
AED: never heard of that bobo brand
Me: yeah, it's generic
Me: but i think Keebler also makes them
AED: those ain't vegan tho!
Me: I didn't say they were vegan! I said Keebler MAKES them
Me: so you would kno wwhat I was TALKING about
AED: you said it as if you would EAT them!
Me: do I have to get on a bus and come down there and sit on you?
AED: oh yeah!
Me: hoe, I will crush you like a walnut!
AED: naw!
Me: crrrrrrrrkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkttt
AED: i like it! more!
Me: creeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak grrrroooooooooooooooooooooooooooooan snap snap snap BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM
Me: that was the chair breaking
Me: now you're trapped under something heavy
Friday, June 26, 2009
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Life is thickly sown with thorns, and I know no other remedy than to pass quickly through them.
Things are going along rather nicely. The ducklings are growing like nuclear mutants in a postapocalyptic pond in a town not unlike the one you're living in now. The chickens are taking things more slowly. I admire their relaxed and judicial attitudes.
Yesterday I took the 'lings outside into the small yard for the first time. It went rather well, but today was better.
Three weeks ago when I was mowing the law in preparation for The GIrls' arrival, I ran over some sort of fabric hidden in the grass (don't ask). It promptly wound itself around the dual blades of the mower deck, which killed the engine but good. I was mostly finished with the big yard, so I decided I would worry about it later. It was always in the back of my mind, though, that most likely I wouldn't be able to untangle it. Or I'd gummed up the mysterious inner workings. Regardless, I was certain that this was going to be a job for A Professional. I have a trailer that I used to hook up to my Jeep so I could tow the riding mower up to the trailer, but I no longer have 1) a car with a trailer hitch; or 2) a car. Problematic.
Anyway, today I gathered up my high-quality professional toolkit, which I keep organized in a tiny drawer in a cabinet that is wedged between my washer and dryer. And so with my rusty scissors, my Philips screwdriver, my bright orange boxcutter, and a steak knife I found in the back of the drawer, I headed out back to liberate my blades. The greenery had been steadily advancing day by day; blackberry vines were starting to appear at the second-story kitchen window. It was only a matter of time before our defenses were breached.
After two solid hours of lying on the rocky, thorny ground with both of my arms blindly stuffed up inside a mower deck, hacking away at a tangled mass of bedsheet. And my only thought the entire time (besides "Holy Christ, has the Earth come loose from its orbit? Is the sun getting closer?") was:
"You know what you are, don't you? You're the teaser. Yep. You're the Person in Peril from the first 3 minutes of every Supernatural episode ever. And you know what happens to the teaser: it always ends bloody. Always. You're wearing the red jumpsuit. Yep, any second now this riding mower is going to roar to life with a puff of sulphur and a sickly red light glowing behind the grill. You won't notice any of that, though, because you'll be too busy screaming about your missing arms WHEN THE BLADES ENGAGE OF THEIR OWN ACCORD AND DICE YOUR UPPER EXTREMITIES LIKE COLD CUTS. WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH BOTH ARMS UNDER THERE, YOU IDIOT? WE WANT TO PLAY THE CELLO SOMEDAY!"
Finally, after totally depleting my stores of electrolytes, the blades were free. Then, since my meds were still working, I mowed the lawn. Not only did I mow the lawn, I mowed the ditch in front of the house, which was looking very hairy indeed. Not only that, I wedged the mower through the front gate and into the front yard and mowed that, too.
Kiki: Wow. How did you get through the gate?
Me: Drove really fast.
Fuck. I was totally going somewhere with this entry, but I took so long typing it up that I'm really fatigued now.
Summary: Left the gate open, geese wandered out of the yard and took a stroll down the street, filled up the baby pool and brought the ducklings out for their first swim, no goose-on-duckling violence....what else? Sank up to my ankles in a previously undiscovered pit of quicksand in front yard. Beaned myself with a branch whilst mowing beneath an evergreen at high speed; knocked sound-muffling earphones off but managed to retain skull.
Ducklings starting to bond with me. They follow me and stand at the bottom of the stairs when I go up to the kitchen, peeping their distress. I'm thinking the littlest Black Swedish is kind of a dummy. Took him 49 laps around the baby pool before he figured out how to utilize baffling ramp technology.
Found Piper's new nest. It's under my Rio Samba rose bush, and it's only got one egg in it. Aw.
Which reminds me: Accidentally stumbled upon public goose intercourse. Now know what male goose genitalia looks like. No doubt severe nightmares to follow. Send brain bleach.
Carl the Redwing Blackbird was hanging out in the front yard! Usually he holds cort around the pond at the bottom of the yard. Carl's a pimp.
Saw an absolutely breathtakingly beautiful butterfly. Its wings were a deep neon rose color.
My roses are blooming!
I think one of my toes is going to fall off.
Yesterday I took the 'lings outside into the small yard for the first time. It went rather well, but today was better.
Three weeks ago when I was mowing the law in preparation for The GIrls' arrival, I ran over some sort of fabric hidden in the grass (don't ask). It promptly wound itself around the dual blades of the mower deck, which killed the engine but good. I was mostly finished with the big yard, so I decided I would worry about it later. It was always in the back of my mind, though, that most likely I wouldn't be able to untangle it. Or I'd gummed up the mysterious inner workings. Regardless, I was certain that this was going to be a job for A Professional. I have a trailer that I used to hook up to my Jeep so I could tow the riding mower up to the trailer, but I no longer have 1) a car with a trailer hitch; or 2) a car. Problematic.
Anyway, today I gathered up my high-quality professional toolkit, which I keep organized in a tiny drawer in a cabinet that is wedged between my washer and dryer. And so with my rusty scissors, my Philips screwdriver, my bright orange boxcutter, and a steak knife I found in the back of the drawer, I headed out back to liberate my blades. The greenery had been steadily advancing day by day; blackberry vines were starting to appear at the second-story kitchen window. It was only a matter of time before our defenses were breached.
After two solid hours of lying on the rocky, thorny ground with both of my arms blindly stuffed up inside a mower deck, hacking away at a tangled mass of bedsheet. And my only thought the entire time (besides "Holy Christ, has the Earth come loose from its orbit? Is the sun getting closer?") was:
"You know what you are, don't you? You're the teaser. Yep. You're the Person in Peril from the first 3 minutes of every Supernatural episode ever. And you know what happens to the teaser: it always ends bloody. Always. You're wearing the red jumpsuit. Yep, any second now this riding mower is going to roar to life with a puff of sulphur and a sickly red light glowing behind the grill. You won't notice any of that, though, because you'll be too busy screaming about your missing arms WHEN THE BLADES ENGAGE OF THEIR OWN ACCORD AND DICE YOUR UPPER EXTREMITIES LIKE COLD CUTS. WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH BOTH ARMS UNDER THERE, YOU IDIOT? WE WANT TO PLAY THE CELLO SOMEDAY!"
Finally, after totally depleting my stores of electrolytes, the blades were free. Then, since my meds were still working, I mowed the lawn. Not only did I mow the lawn, I mowed the ditch in front of the house, which was looking very hairy indeed. Not only that, I wedged the mower through the front gate and into the front yard and mowed that, too.
Kiki: Wow. How did you get through the gate?
Me: Drove really fast.
Fuck. I was totally going somewhere with this entry, but I took so long typing it up that I'm really fatigued now.
Summary: Left the gate open, geese wandered out of the yard and took a stroll down the street, filled up the baby pool and brought the ducklings out for their first swim, no goose-on-duckling violence....what else? Sank up to my ankles in a previously undiscovered pit of quicksand in front yard. Beaned myself with a branch whilst mowing beneath an evergreen at high speed; knocked sound-muffling earphones off but managed to retain skull.
Ducklings starting to bond with me. They follow me and stand at the bottom of the stairs when I go up to the kitchen, peeping their distress. I'm thinking the littlest Black Swedish is kind of a dummy. Took him 49 laps around the baby pool before he figured out how to utilize baffling ramp technology.
Found Piper's new nest. It's under my Rio Samba rose bush, and it's only got one egg in it. Aw.
Which reminds me: Accidentally stumbled upon public goose intercourse. Now know what male goose genitalia looks like. No doubt severe nightmares to follow. Send brain bleach.
Carl the Redwing Blackbird was hanging out in the front yard! Usually he holds cort around the pond at the bottom of the yard. Carl's a pimp.
Saw an absolutely breathtakingly beautiful butterfly. Its wings were a deep neon rose color.
My roses are blooming!
I think one of my toes is going to fall off.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Monday, May 18, 2009
Best week ever.
I am in the middle of what is surely one of the best weeks of my life. I don't want the girls to leave! I feel like it's kind of condescending to call them the girls, but I can't seem to help myself. Mostly we've been Grannie, AED, Coco, and Kiki.
Portland feels different with them here. It feels even better. More like home.
Friday, May 1, 2009
Monday, April 27, 2009
Honeydew
Good things:
List of things:
1. Get large map of Portland, thumb tacks, and colored thread.
2. Hit up garage sales for bikes.
3. Get a minivan somehow?
4. Breathe.
- I planted my rose bushes last week, and two out of the three are growing like crazy. The third is just starting to put out buds
- I made more mason bee houses yesterday. The weather cooled down again, but hopefully there are still a few bees doing the bee thing out there.
- Obama is maybe going to save my house.
- I have really, really great friends. Every now and then it hits me hard, and I can't believe how lucky I am.
- I cannot wait for May!! I've always thought it was the perfect time of the year for a wedding. Hee.
- Closure.
List of things:
1. Get large map of Portland, thumb tacks, and colored thread.
2. Hit up garage sales for bikes.
3. Get a minivan somehow?
4. Breathe.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Number crunch.
If I sell plasma twice a week, I am guessing I could make another $160 a month.
If I get another full-time transcription gig with a decent line rate (at least 9 cents a line), there's a possibility of another $1800 a month.
After taxes, what is that? About $2400 a month? It's just not enough.
I'm fairly certain I can make a little money with my knitting, but the amount would probably be negligible. Still, every little bit counts.
I can't figure out how to make any more money. I could still do the paper route, but I don't have a car. As it is, I can't figure out how I'm going to be able to get myself to the plasma donation center.
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