2011: wtf?

2011 was supposed to be a year like any other.  Instead, it turned into (unfortunately) a year unlike any other.

January
We got a new backsplash in the kitchen!  I slate and found some lovely tiles that I wanted.  Fortunately they also matched our colors, which keeps happening, no matter what I pick out, it seems.  And the end result looks gorgeous!

February
Received news at work that one of my co-workers was leaving.  And just as I was beginning to like her.  blah

March
Had my work annual review.  Learned that I did half of the computer work in the office.  Was told I needed to be nice to Yappy and more social in the office, but otherwise I was doing a great job at my WORK.
Co-worker that I liked left.  Major bummer.
Went to Spokane to visit the cousins and aunt & uncle the week of our birthday.  They surprised us with a cake and the song.  I was immensely touched.  I love them so much.
Got home to, SURPRISE!, Mom waiting for us at our house.  Wonderful birthday.  So happy no one made a big issue of turning 30.

April
Celebrated a full year in our new home.  Yay us!
Learned that co-workers really are immature children.  Requested going to part time and was allowed to do so, beginning May 1st.

May
Switched to part-time at work, finally.  After a week of it, co-workers got even MORE bitchy, so I gave my notice.  7 weeks of it.  I'd had enough and it was obvious that no matter how hard I tried, I would not be allowed to work quietly at work.
I planted my very first garden!  Strawberry plants only.  Hoping they survive the winter and produce again next year.

June
I FINALLY QUIT!!  The relief, the joy, and the mixture of a few dozen other positive emotions summed up my entire month.
Although I was originally planning to go to Spokane right away for the birth of my cousin's son, the plan changed after all.  So I stayed home and literally felt weight lift from me every day.  Best feeling in the world.
I also got to start taking the dogs for walks daily at the big County park.  They had so much fun!  It lasted only until the heat of July made it more difficult--getting up at 7 AM to take the dogs for a walk was soon too hot, even at that hour.

July
The Mister and I went to Denver.  Got Nigel fixed while we had a vacation around town.  Celebrated our 10th wedding anniversary.
90ºF+ every day, rained every night, got to see my first electric lightning storm.  It was our first real vacation, spending more than a day seeing the sights and relaxing.  So lovely.

August
We sold Nigel and ordered a new MINI Countryman.  Saying goodbye to a car was harder than I thought.  He was my first true dream car made real.
Thus began my 3 month homebound journey.  It got old, fast.
But we also got a new heat pump installed in the house.  Heat pump's provide air conditioning in the summer and heat in the winter.  Instead of running on gas, they run on electricity, so bills should be lower in the winter.

September
Tracked my new car on it's ship.  Obsessively.  Every day.  Multiple times a day.  It only took for.ev.er.

October
Things started getting shitty right about now.  Yes, I got my new car.  And the Mister got in a car accident.  It was his fault.
He got written up at work--for not reporting the accident right away, for not bringing his "A game" every day because of his chronic migraines.  His stress was high and no relief was in sight.  He was told that if he had a migraine, he wasn't allowed to come to work.

November
Mom came for a visit, we went to Broad Comedy.  It was a lovely visit.
The following week was Thanksgiving.  I made dinner.  Very proud of myself.

and....December
This month sucked.  Bad.
Received horrible news that made me doubt my life.
And the Mister got fired.  The day after Christmas.  For his "job performance".  Despite the fact that he'd gotten his migraines under control, continued to do his ad work, and was staying late (until almost 9 some nights) at least 3 days a week.

So now neither of us has a job.  It's not how I ever thought the year would end.  The Mister has always had such incredible work ethic, and he's an amazingly dedicated hard worker.
We may or may not be able to stay in our home.  We may or may not even be able to stay in Bozeman.  Although this gives him the chance to start a new job, where he'll hopefully be much happier, it's made our future look unbelievably questionable.

Life is suddenly a lot harder.
Here's hoping the New Year offers us a lot of great chances for a brighter future.

erratic apprising (random update)

Not a whole lot going on here lately.  It got cold, there's sky poo on the ground, and Smudge has returned from her sojourn to the spare bedroom for two months.

So now I'm back to the miraculous ability of multi-tasking:  pet the cat with one hand, rub Lily's paw (no idea why she likes this so much) with the other hand, and stroke Amber's belly with my foot.  Or pet the cat, rub Amber's neck, and pet Lily's belly with my foot.  The dogs are ok with foot love, the cat demands hand.

Smudge has declared Lily's kennel as her bed.  Lily hates me when I tell her to kennel up before realizing the cat's owning her place.
Their eyes only glow when they're in the kennel together, I promise.

Coolest packaging I've ever seen.  It came in the mail a couple of weeks ago.

Cut along dotted line, empty contents, turn inside out and enjoy the new satchel.  Seriously!?  

Turned inside out.

What was before a mailing pouch is now a reusable tote!  How flippin' cool is that!?

Not only has Smudge taken over Lily's kennel, she's helping herself to Amber's food.
I'm still trying to figure out why she thinks she's a dog.
Don't cats usually have disdain for dogs?

All that pilfering is exhausting.  And fattening.
Meet Pudge.

Amber is precious.  Sometimes she just sits there and stares at me.  I wish I could read her mind.

Fog!  Yay!!

This is spotted dick.  In a grocery store.
ew.

Moonrise.  Love it.

Lily doesn't sit & stare, she worms her way onto the couch and paws me until I pet her.
Or kiss her.
Or push her off.

No baking this year!  For the cookie exchange, I made peanut butter balls.  302 of them, to be exact.
This was just the first batch.

Don't my chocolate covered balls look yummy?

Smudge buries her face in pillows now, apparently.  Maybe it's a coping mechanism--if she can't see the dog coming, the dog won't come?
Or maybe it's because she's ashamed of herself for eating dog food?
Whatever the reason, I hope she realizes it makes breathing more difficult.

Biologically Related

I have an older brother.
I have an older sister.
My brother hasn't treated me like a sister since I was a kid.  He was, once upon a time, someone I looked up to, devotedly adored, and thought the world of.
He saved me from the bullying of my sister and sometimes let me hang out with him and his girlfriend.
Now, however, he is many things, none of them being anywhere near the loving, affectionate guy who used to write his little sister letters, or send her reward money for doing well in school,  or have any kind of interest in her life and happiness.
Now my older brother is a bitter, angry, alcoholic bully.  He never has a nice thing to say to me, so I generally try to avoid him.

My "sister" has never been much of one.  Memories of her include her calling me a virgin when I was 11.  As in, taunting me.  Because I didn't know what being a virgin was.
It was also at this time that she told me what a blowjob was.
Not long after this, she insisted I needed a boyfriend, she knew a guy.  The guy turned out to be 15 or 16 and, yeah.  That didn't happen.
When I was 13, she showed me what spermicide was and told me how it worked.
At one point she sicced the bird on me.  We had a parrot, a lesser sulfur-crested cockatoo.  He knew I was afraid of him, so he'd act aggressively toward me.  She decided to basically put him on me and let me try to get away from him.  He bit me, twice, hard enough to break the skin and leave some nasty bruises.
At 14, I thought I'd visit her at her new place in Great Falls.  She got drunk, I said something sarcastic, and she pinned me to the floor.  And proceeded to pound my head into the floor numerous times.
Instead of knowing better, instead of thinking enough was enough, I went back to visit a year later.  That time, in her super tiny apartment, with a pull-out twin bed and a pull-out full bed side by side, she thought it'd be "funny" to "pretend" to have sex with her boyfriend in the bed next to mine.  Loud sex.
How she hasn't caught some terminal VD by now, I'll never know.
A year after that she gave birth to my nephew.  Who, at the age of 10, told his mom he was going to jump out the window of their apartment to commit suicide.  Because she'd been teasing him about having back fat.
When he locked the door to his room and yelled at her what he was going to do, she laughed at him and told him that since they only lived on the second floor he'd probably just end up breaking a leg or something.
She ended up taking him to a children's mental health center.  Where, during the intake process, I witnessed her telling the doctor's on my nephew's case that he didn't help her enough, she has fibromyalgia and she's in a lot of pain most of the time and she needs him to do stuff for her and he just doesn't do enough.  She was clearly the victim in this situation.
My nephew has asthma.  My sister keeps a cat, or multiple cats, in her house.  And, when I tried to help her move from a place close to me, she evidently doesn't clean the liter box.  Ever.
Her cat(s) eventually piss and crap all over my nephew's stuff.
Not to mention the havoc they wreak on his asthma.  Along with dealing with his mother's smoking habit, in the house.
To put her name permanently on my shit list, she called my Mom a c*nt.  And told her that if she ever had another baby, Mom would never get to see it.
The longest position she's held at any level was for a law firm.  She worked there for 2 or 3 years.
Earlier this year she got a tax refund, so she quit the job she had.  I think she'd had that job for 6 whole months.
She's currently pregnant again, after a few attempts and miscarriages.  The father of the baby doesn't want anything to do with her.
I can honestly say, with ever fiber of my being, that I wish anything for that baby but her.  It would be merciful if she had a miscarriage.  It would be wise to have the child taken away from her after she gives birth.  Leave it in the forrest to be raised by wolves, give it to the CIA to be raised as an assassin.  Give it up for adoption to a couple who can financially and emotionally care for, coddle, and love it with no expectations or demands.
I'd offer to adopt it, if I could force words out of my mouth at her that weren't poisonous, venomous and full of disgust.

I'm going to go think of fluffy bunnies and kittens frolicking in the sun under a rainbow now.  Harsh negativity is over now.

Thanksgiving

This Thanksgiving, like the last one, we spent home.  The Mister usually has to work the Friday & Saturday after the holiday, so we don't travel to be with family anymore.
Like last Thanksgiving, I made the Mister a turkey breast, because he lubs him some turkey.
Unlike last Thanksgiving, I made myself a ham, because I lubs me some turkey.
I also made some broccoli & cauliflower gratin, crescent rolls, sourdough, wild mushroom and bacon dressing, and blueberry cheesecake.
I'm so sick of leftovers now, I may not eat again until Christmas.
Here's some shots of the spread....

Nothing says nutrition like veggies smothered in cheesy goop.

Turkey & ham, just hanging out....

I love Mom's stuffing, but this stuff is really damn delicious.

I'm proud of myself, ok?

While I made dinner, I persuaded the Mister to complete a small project we've been putting off for awhile.  

Back in the spring, we had some little birdies break into the exhaust vent for the guest bathroom fan.  The little birdies made a little birdy nest and laid little birdy eggs in the nest that ended up becoming more little birdies.  The Mister, being the kind, nature-loving sort he is deep down inside, didn't want to move the nest until the little birdies had moved out for the year.

And so, after putting it off....the Mister made this while I made dinner.

Sadly, there was no ceiling cat awaiting us.

He found stuffing, too!

It snowed in our house on Thanksgiving.

What we originally thought would be a rather small task turned into a pain in the arse.
The little birdies managed to rip apart the vent tubing.  And, since it was Thanksgiving, there wasn't a hardware store open to get replacement tubing.  The birdies also managed to almost completely block the vent, which managed to explain why the fan had been so loud....
Anyway, the Super Mister got up at 5 AM on Black Friday to go to Lowes and get some replacement tubing.  How awesome is he!?
On top of that, he put the tubing in and re-wired and re-mounted the fan by the time I woke up at 7.
He's awesome, that Mister.

Mother

I should be cleaning.  My Mom is coming for a visit and she'll be here in two hours, hopefully.  Who knows, with the roads being winter and all...

I've mentioned my Mom a time or two before.  She's a big part of my life.  We have a really great relationship and I can't imagine who I'd be if not for her.
The most impressive thing about my Mom is her heart.  It's huge.  I think her entire body is heart.  If not, then her entire spirit is.
Mom welcomes so many people into her heart.  She's become the mother figure to so many cousins and friends.  If you're down on your luck, if you're an emotional mess, my Mom is who you go to.  She's let people move in when they needed help, she knows the healing power of a hug or a shoulder to cry on.  She's forgiven the many slights of her children.

Mom yelled at a cop, for me.  She chased down a bus on a two-lane highway in fog, for me.  She's done much more for others.
I'll never understand how she does it, but I'll always admire her for it.

Mom loves to laugh.  It's so easy to make her laugh.  Her huge heart has got to be filled with laughter, and joy.  Her close friends have been laughing with her for my lifetime.  She's loyal and a wonderful friend.

We have differing views on some things, like politics, but when I speak, she listens, and vice versa.  We respect each other's opinions, even if we disagree.

When I was a kid in elementary school she worked 3 jobs, one full-time and two part-time, to support her kids.  I never once heard her complain or felt any kind of resentment against us.  She's loved us so much, no matter what.  Even when my brother left for Washington and came back a different, mean person.  Even when my sister came home drunk when she was 16, or moved out 3 times, or called her nasty names.  Even when I went against her wishes to go to Canada alone, at 18, and see a strange man.

She hasn't always agreed with my decisions, but she's always supported me no matter what.
She went to every band concert I played in, no matter what.

I hear horror stories about other mothers who are nasty to their kids or really opinionated or extremely disapproving of everything and appreciate my Mom all the more for the amazing woman she is.

Mom used to make me clean the house when people were coming over and I always swore  that I would NEVER clean before someone came to MY house because, please, if they know me, they know I'm not a super clean person.

But whatever.  Mom's coming, so I need to get back to cleaning, so she knows she didn't raise a disgusting, messy kid.

I love you, Mom

I had to put it in bigger letters so she could read it in case she's got watery eyes.  ;o)

This Thanksgiving, and every Thanksgiving, and every other day, I'm so grateful for my wonderful Mom.

Dear Retail Stores

Yes, I understand that Christmas is coming.
And yes, I understand that Christmas is the biggest sale season all year.
I also understand that you want to remind people that Christmas is coming so they get out their credit cards and spend, spend, spend in your store.

However,
Christmas music makes me cranky.  It makes me not want to shop in your store.  It makes me wish for temporary hearing loss.
Christmas music is fine and great the week or two before Christmas, I can not get twitchy when I hear it.  Sadly, during that period of time I'm generally ready to never go into a store ever again because I'm so fed up with hearing Jingle Bells or Silent Night or Mariah Carey singing Christmas songs from the previous weeks of damage.

I'm not a Grinch, I'm not a Scrooge, I just hate that Christmas has become a time of one-upmanship, a day of "who got the best present?", and it's no longer what it was when I was a kid....a time for family, for being close to the people you love, for children to be A LITTLE spoiled and not feel like they got slighted if they didn't get that one specific thing they asked for, didn't you SEE their wish list on Amazon!?

Ugh.
I'm having a hard time resolving the fact that Christmas will never be what it was.  Is it too obvious?

To Do List

In no particular order....

• Alaska
• Hawaii (even though I REALLY don't like islands)
• Italy
• Southern France
• UK
• British Columbia
• Australia

Movie Recommendation

If you own a TV, know a teenager, or look at bestseller book lists, you probably know who Kristen Stewart is.  She plays Bella on the Twilight franchise movies.  It's the role she's probably best known for.

She made a movie a few years ago that far out shows Twilight (and I'm a Twilight fan!).

If you want to watch a movie that'll make you emotional, that'll make you relate, that will make you upset and inspired by strength, I recommend the movie Speak.
I watched it for a second time today--I saw it a few years ago.  I'd watch it again, in another few years.  It's not one that'll necessarily be on your to-buy list because it can be hard to watch.

Without giving too much away, Kristen's character is a teenager in high school.
If you've ever felt like an outcast, you'll relate to her.
If you've ever felt like the only way you can communicate isn't with words, you'll understand.

I'm a big supporter of the arts in public schools.  I'm not saying math & science aren't important, but if a kid excels at something, let them continue to excel, even if it's with an instrument, a paintbrush, or with poetry.
I've heard of art therapy for some people who just can't talk about something that they're dealing with.  This movie makes me more appreciative of good teachers, supportive educators.  I have a friend who is an art teacher in middle school.  Some of the worst years of a kid's life are middle school years.  It's no surprise her class is one of the most popular electives to take, since so many kids need to let out their fears, rage, frustration, joy or any other range of feelings with art.

If you have a couple of hours to feel, watch Speak.  I hope it'll affect you.

Hauntings

It's been almost 2 weeks since I got my car.  In that time, my neuroses have reared their shitty little heads.
I've had numerous dreams about the previous boss and supervisor following me to other jobs, which I had to quit thanks to their presence.  I dreamt I was back at work and it was torture, literally.
Apparently now that I have a car, my subconscious brain has reconnected vehicle with job.  I may have to go in for hypnosis to wipe their memories from my brain so I can survive daily.

Our houseguest Annie is a barker.  As a larger dog, this means she's a LOUD barker.  And she barks A LOT.
Thankfully, her owner found a place to live and Annie will be going home with her humans later this month.

Tallulah has a whopping 600 miles on her odometer.  Leaving the house whenever I feel like it has never felt so good.  And every time I get in the MINI, I realize I'm really an adult now, driving a practical (but fun!) car.  I miss Nigel and his zippy performance.  But with winter coming, I'm happy for Tallulah and feeling more secure.
Perhaps in a few years I can buy another Cooper and have it for a summer car.  You know, after I get the perfect job and the Mister is finally happy and pain free.

The Mister was missing Gunner yesterday.  A small, mix-breed puppy was brought by and the owner asked if anyone wanted it.  The Mister called me to find out how I felt about it.
With 2 Goldens, a guest German Shepherd-mix, and a cat....sure, why not.  I need less sanity in my life.
We decided against it after he came to his senses.  He's missing his buddy and I understand.  I honestly wouldn't mind another dog, just not one so small.  (Chihuahua/Yorkie/Jack Russell mix)
And I know he wants another Jack Russell, so maybe in a few years, when I have another Cooper, and that perfect job, we'll get another dog.

With Gunner being gone for 18 months now, which doesn't seem that long, and everyone saying how old Amber is, I'm getting scared about her health and age.  I'm haunted by saying goodbye to Gunner and how he went to sleep.  Amber's been my companion for 9 years now and I just can't imagine not waking up to her by my side every morning.
Ugh.  In that shiny happy future, I want an Amber who lives with me til the end of my days.

In the meantime, I've got a cat who insists on sitting in front of my monitor when I try to type.  Transparent she's not.

Ta Da!

Et voila!

Tallulah's home!

Broken

I've known for awhile that there's something wrong with me.  Even as a child, I tended to prefer the company of adults to kids my age.
I didn't like doing things in groups, I wanted to have only one or two friends.
As I got older, into my teenage years, I didn't socialize like my peers.  I enjoyed staying home, in my room, reading books.  I went "cruising" on Main a couple nights a week during the nice weather months, but overall, I tended to distrust people I went to school with.
I was a loner.  I didn't try to fit in with the "in" crowd.  I didn't drink booze, I didn't smoke weed, and I wasn't having sex with anyone who wanted it.
At one point, my Mom even told me to "get a life!", which was ironic, considering most parents would probably like their kids to be home more, not less.
The internet became my chance to be social without actually being around people.  I could talk to people I liked and ignore people I didn't and no one cared.
As I matured, became who I am today, I've learned to accept myself, and my faults, despite the fact that they make my life more difficult.  I assumed that I was an anti-social, sometimes bitchy, small-talk hating loner and there was no point in beating around the bush about it, life had helped make me what I am.

And then I started reading a book a few months ago.  A small, ordinary-looking book.  What happened once I started reading was anything but ordinary.  I don't say it lightly, like it's just another eye-opening book.  This book has actually changed the way I see myself and how I cope with the world.

I'm reading a book about introverts.  It turns out I'm a very introverted person.  I didn't "become" an introvert, I was born this way, with this temperament, and I couldn't change it any more than I could change my blue eyes or dimples (despite how much I'd be happy to not have comments about the damn dents in my cheeks).
According to the book, 1 in 4 people are introverted.  That means a big majority of people are extroverts.  The world is ruled by extroverts.
And while I'm learning about being an introvert, it's not likely extroverts are trying to learn about my minority.  Which is fine, I suppose, but that doesn't mean I'm going to change how I behave to make their lives easier since they don't understand me.
There are very interesting things about introverts:  they're not big on chit chat, but like to have meaningful, meaty discussions.  They feel more comfortable talking while sitting versus standing.  In large groups, they're likely to shut down and not say much or anything.  In small groups, with people they're comfortable with, they may not shut up.  They tend to have an impressive long-term memory and know a wide-array of information.  On the flip side, it takes them awhile to think through things compared to the quick-on-their-feet reactions of extroverts.  An introvert can happily sit in a quiet room by themselves and be quite comfortable.  If an extrovert tried to do that, they'd be antsy and anxious and bored out of their mind.
The brain in introverts even runs differently than in extroverts.  While extroverts brains tend to be happy with dopamine and adrenaline, introverts get extremely worn out by those neurotransmitters.  Introvert's brains instead get happy with acetylcholine (ACH), which effects REM and long-term memory storage in the brain.  It also tends to run a longer path through different parts of the brain than the dopamine/adrenaline mind.
Pretty interesting stuff.
Talk about a personal awakening for me.  For so long I've wished to be different, more open, more friendly, more outgoing.  And I can probably work really hard on those things and be a little better at them with time.  But for the most part, I am who am, and who I was years ago, for the rest of my life.  I'm not broken, there's nothing wrong with me (despite what most extroverts, and former co-workers, think), I just need to learn how to move through life with different tools than most other people.
I have to focus on sustaining my mental energy, realize what my limitations are and work within personal boundaries.
I'm only halfway through the book, but I think I can honestly say I've never read a more important book for myself in my life.  The shame and guilt of being different and broken is gone.  I'm just an introvert.



Now if only I could stop wanting to tell my old supervisor and boss to go fuck themselves in the ass with a pine cone for fucking with my head and making me doubt myself.
I wonder if there's a book out there for that....

The Dangers of Ordering a MINI

I've mentioned a couple of times now about my difficult wait for my new car.  While being carless.
Here, I will list all 1111 difficulties we've had while waiting for the car.

• The hard part:  building the MINI you want, with all the options you want/need, and still making it affordable.  I avoided this altogether by simply loading up the car with all the bells and whistles that looked fun and avoiding what the final price was.  Kind of.
• Sending the configuration to a dealership.  Getting a salesman/Motoring Advisor (MA) to place my order and give me a production number so I can start obsessing about where it is in the process of being built.
• Stalking my car.  Seriously.  Multiple times a day, I checked the MINI website to see if somehow, magically, the car was in Colorado 2 weeks after I ordered it.  Alas, this was not to be the case.  Logically I understood this.  My inner stalker didn't.
• The agonizingly slowwwwwwwwww trip the car takes from the factory, across the Atlantic, through the Panama Canal, up the west coast to port in southern California.  The longest part of the whole process.The approximately 1100-ish waking hours spent at home unable to drive.  Torture.  Pure torture.
• The approximately 1100-ish waking hours spent questioning whether I got the right bells and whistles.  Should I have gotten the anthracite headliner?  Or should I have gotten the split rails instead of the single?  Why didn't I get the Polar Beige color line!?  OMG, what if I hate my car when it gets here!?!?!!?!?!?
• The approximately 1100-ish waking hours that can be spent online in MINI communities talking to other MINI owners about their cars, and waiting, and options, and seeing pictures of cars that look just like what I think mine will look like and HOLY HELL CAN THIS TAKE ANY LONGER?
• The unfortunate realization that, yes, it can AND will take longer.  Because my MA is a schmuck.  The Mister approves of him, but I'm way over him now.
• We can't start any paperwork process until the car actually gets to the dealership's lot in Denver.  So we wait.  And wait.  And wait some more.  Again.
• Deciding what type of lease to do.  The Mister takes the reins on this one because he's in the business.  Back and forth with the MA.  Yes to this, no to that, can we please get this taken care of?
• The car is waiting at the dealership.  I'm waiting in my house.  The MA just can't seem to find the single finance person who works for all 4 branches of the dealership.
• Finally, the paperwork gets here.  But wait!  There's charges on here that the Mister and MA both agreed wouldn't be on there!  Oh wonderful, we get to wait for more paperwork to be printed and sent?  Fabulous!!  Please!  Take your time.
• Once all is said and done, paperwork is received by the dealership, they can finally ok the car to be transported here on a truck.
• 2-3 days after that, I might get to drive it.  Maybe.

Next time, I'm getting a used car off the lot.  Or just never getting another car ever again in my entire life.

Hairy Houseguest

We recently acquired a houseguest.  The best kind of houseguest--the furry kind, with four paws, and droopy ears.
Her name is Annie and we're watching her for a few weeks while her humans try to find housing that allows her to live with them.
She's a german shepherd mix, Amber's age, and she has stinky breath and a sensitive nose.  She's been with us for a couple of weeks now and seems to fit right in with everyone.  Except Smudge.
Annie's never been around a cat before and really wants to "meet" Smudge.  Unfortunately, Smudge, for whatever reason, took an immediate dislike to Annie and refuses to come out of her room.
Smudge is acting like I did when Mom & I moved into Dad's house--hissing, running away from, and generally trying to ignore the new reality.  Poor kitty....

Slow Government Processing

We've had our fair share of dealing with the federal government as we applied, paid (a whole hell of a lot!), and waited for the Mister's immigration paperwork to be processed.  We did that loop-d-loop 3 times--first for his conditional residency, then for his permanent residency, and finally for his citizenship.
Through all these filings, we got a feel for how speedy the government is in processing stuff for it's citizens:  Not very speedy at all.

So when we applied for our passports on 9/29, we expected not to get them until November.  It was a pretty big shock when they showed up in the mail yesterday--2 1/2 weeks after we applied.  I think this may be one for the record books.
The federal government processed something in 10 business days!  Wow!

The curse of the import car

I sold my beloved MINI Cooper S "Nigel" on August 8th.  The week prior to that, I ordered a new MINI Countryman S All4.  Since I knew what I wish I'd gotten with Nigel, I practically loaded up the Countryman.

It went into production in Austria mid-August and got on a ship mid-September.  It's now at the dealership in Colorado, waiting to be picked up.

The only issue is...the salesman/MA (motoring advisor).  

Apparently he doesn't understand how anxious I am to have a car to drive.  He doesn't realize that I haven't had a vehicle of my own in 9 weeks.  And he's taking his sweet time doing whatever he's doing down there.

It's not a matter of just hopping in the car and popping down to the dealership to pick up the new car.  Nooooo, we only live 750 miles from the dealership.

And we're getting the new car shipped here.  Which means extra days before I can drive it.

It's just a mess.  I'm getting incredibly frustrated and pissed off with the MA, but there's nothing I can do.  He claims he's just trying to get stuff cleared by the finance person there.  One finance person for 4 dealerships.  wtf?  Are you kidding?!

If I don't throw my hands up over all this BS, I'm definitely not using that dealership again.

Why oh why oh why is it so much to ask for a MINI dealership in my area code?

blah.

a day after a weekend

This weekend a few things happened:

I woke up.  I napped.  I made food.  I went shopping.

3 dogs rassled.  2 dogs chased the cat.  1 dog stared at me with quiet devotion.

The Mister cleaned up dog puke.

The dogs tracked in dog poo from the back yard.

Me and the Mister cleaned poo off the floors.  I mopped.

I rearranged the pantry.

The Mister napped.  The Mister watched foozball.  Go refs!


Today, a few more things will happen:

I'll check the mail.  I'll pick up dog poo in the back yard.  I'll mow for the last time in 2011.  I'll pretend to be sad about that, but secretly I'll be giddy with joy.

I might nap.  I'll probably watch a movie.  I'll empty the dishwasher.  I'll make dinner in a crock pot.  I'll try to figure out a way to use my education in a job.  And probably come up with nothing.

I'll repeatedly check the status of my car.  It's close.  It might be here next week.

I'll imagine driving my new car next week.  I'll think of the new car smell and all the bells and whistles I can play with and learn.

I'll hug and kiss the Mister.  And kiss him some more, because I can.  Because he's my Mister.

I'll kiss Lily's face.  She's got a soft face that just begs to be kissed.  I have to kiss it at least 10 times a day, or my day just isn't satisfying.  I'll make sure to kiss Lily after I kiss the Mister so he doesn't get itchy.

Wine may be included at some point.

Cleaning house

As I posted before, I found some old pictures to go through recently.  It started a bit of a frenzy for me.  I ended up going through all of my hard copy pictures.  And I threw a bunch out.

In a strangely therapeutic move, I got rid of all the pictures of the paternal grandmother and biological father.  It's very odd to me, that I've had these pictures for years, and I don't see them very often at all, but removing them from my collection felt like clearing bad memories out of the house.  

Someone asked me, "Are you sure you won't want those at some point later in your life?"  Since I have no positive feelings about those people, then no, I don't think so.  It's not like the feelings are going to magically turn bright and shiny and happy.

I have no good feelings for my biological father.  Most of the memories I have of him aren't good.

As for my grandmother--well, she and her son seemed to be a team of some sort.  She preferred him to my aunt, who has to be the most loving person I know.  Grandma repeatedly laid guilt trips on me for not attempting to keep contact with her son.  As she grew sicker, she turned it into a "life's too short..." lecture.  She was under the impression that he was perfect, I wasn't giving him a chance, and I needed to be the one making sure we kept in contact.

Needless to say, removing all those images from my collection felt like a really big relief.  I took a long, cleansing breath after I was done and now I'm moving on...

Scared of Science

Hot Yellowstone


I will never in my life understand why people refuse to believe in science.  I read the above article with fear.  Then I saw the comments section below the article, where people can post their thoughts on the article.  And now I'm terrified.

Why are people so distrustful of science?  What makes so many people think that the science regarding global warming/climate change is a "hoax"?

What has science given us in the past?

• Vaccinations against debilitating and deadly diseases like Polio and Smallpox.
• Ways to ensure clean water
• Lots and lots of medicine to help people who are sick with diabetes, arthritis, leukemia, Parkinson's disease or depression.  Our lifespans are as long as they are thanks to science.
• Adequate food for most of the planet.  
• Nuclear weapons.  Those happened.  Lots of people died.  What that a hoax, too?
• Ozone layer repair.  If science hadn't figured out what caused it, the hole would continue to grow and a lot more people near the South Pole would suffer.
• Gasoline.  It makes our world go 'round.  Science did that.  You're welcome.

Climate change skeptics remind me of an obese person who thinks they're just "big boned".  No matter how many people tell that person if they just take better care of themselves, they can lose weight and feel better.  But the obese person says, nooooo, I'm just big boned, and continues to eat anything and everything their heart desires.  Until one day they just die, at a young age, because of all the damage they've done to their body.

People who are don't believe in science need to be fed to the endangered polar bear.  At least then the polar bear will have adequate food while it's habitat disappears.

gr.

Panama Canal

My car is on this ship.  I watched it's progress through the Gatun locks (below this post) and then the Miraflores locks (this post).  The Gatun locks are on the Atlantic side of the Panama Canal and the Miraflores locks are on the Pacific side.  Yes, I'm obsessed with my car.  You can't even imagine how many pics I'll post here once it's delivered.

Be afraid.

My car is on a ship....

Olfactory Orgasm

Yes, I'm using alliteration.
Mom, that means I started 2 or more connected words with the same letter(s).

Tonight, my nose was in sheer, unadulterated bliss.

First there was the peeling & cutting.  This brought on such a summery frame of mind that I didn't care one bit that it's going down to near freezing tonight, and the day had more clouds & wind than sun.
Then there was the mixing of spices.  Spices make a dish, or cookie.  Whatever a recipe calls for, I usually triple it or more.  I love me some spices.
All this was topped off by a long, leisurely visit to the oven.
The oven is where the magic happened.
The oven melded the joy of juicy peaches, with their lush, succulent flavor and scent, and the crumbly, sugary, spicy, divine butteriness of the topping.  Each component was easily identifiable.  But the buttery scent was what made the dish smell so delicious.
Butter is evil.  Butter is the devil.
Butter should be worshipped.
If there's anything that smells as good on a cool fall evening as fresh peaches topped with sugar, spices and butter baking together, I won't believe it.

Tonight I made a peach cobbler.  And I feel vaguely dirty after describing it.
But I had to describe it accurately.  It's just how I roll.

You're welcome

a big ol' wtf?

I saw an ad in my National Geographic magazine for a fancy shoe.  It's supposed to be awesome and great and the best thing since the internet.
One thing:  there's a logo on the side that looks like a sperm.  No joke.

So, instead of remembering the name of the shoe to look it up for reviews, I go online and do a google search for "spring shoes".
Unfortunately, this doesn't result in the shoe I'm looking for.  But it does give me lots of dandy links for the spring shoe collections.
Lovely.

Next search--and this is no joke--I type in "sperm shoe".  Lo and behold!  The very first link is for the shoe I'm looking for.  I was sure the sperm logo was supposed to be something else, but nooooope.  They use the sperm on purpose because it is the "seed of life".

Ok.  Weird.
The only other time I've seen a sperm logo on anything was on a hat of a guy who, seriously, inseminates cows for ranches.
I don't think his logo was meant to be anything but what it represents.
When did I see this?  At the Mother's Day Brunch in my hometown this year.  It's a ranching community.
I was facing the guy and commented on his hat to my family.  Dad, of course, knows the guy and had to mention it to him.  Ugh.

Anyway, I guess sperm on my shoes is better than sperm on my hat/head.
Just sayin'

wants and nots

I want to be happy
I don't want my happiness to be the cause of unhappiness to those I love
I want to be inspired
I don't need to be inspirational to anyone but myself
I want serenity to be something I can find every day
I don't want it to be something I take for granted
I want to do something with my life that I find fulfilling
I don't want it to become "a job"
I want to feel passionate about my work
I don't want to fear the changes I might have to make for it to happen
I want to make at least 3 positive changes to my life before my next birthday
I don't want to lose sight of my goals in the every day humdrum

When life hands you a gallon of lemon juice....

Or just when you buy it.

Make a lemon meringue pie.  Or 6.

That's what I did.

Because I could.

An exercise in cussing. A lot.

I decided to upgrade my PC and Virtual Machine software on my Mac recently.  Windows XP was running very slowly and so was the VM software.

When I installed Windows on my Mac, I used Boot Camp.  This is something that's supposed to be "seamless" and "easy".  When I did it 4 years ago, it was anything but.  I ended up deleting all the data I'd downloaded to my Mac, including irreplaceable files, because my PC laptop was about to die.

This time around, I was sure the bugs had been all worked out and installation wouldn't be so hard because, c'mon, it's been 4 years and surely things had been made "seamless" and "easy" for real.

I received my installation discs today for Windows 7 Home and Parallels Desktop 6.  Since I already had XP installed, I needed to uninstall it.  THAT part was easy.  I just unpartitioned the drive back to Mac and, voila! done!

After this, I had to fix the newly re-connected drive.  Which entailed re-installing Mac OS X Snow Leopard.  That only took 2 hours.  But at least I got a nap....

Then I re-partitioned for the new Windows.  And, following the on screen instructions, inserted the new installation disc and my Mac restarted.  To a black screen.  With an error message to which I couldn't make a command.  So I restarted, 7 times, waiting for a different response because this was supposed to be EASY and SEAMLESS.

Finally, I got online and searched and found out that my version of Windows 7 (64-bit) is extremely hard to install on Boot Camp because of some this-doesn't-work-well-with-that-part deal.

So I managed, amazingly, to boot back into Mac and do a couple more things that I'd read might help.  Surprisingly, they didn't.  gasp!

After more reading, I determined that I don't need to install Windows 7 through Boot Camp, I can just install it through Parallels.  Much easier (supposedly) and straightforward.

I insert the disc to the drive.  And noises are made by my disc drive that NO disc drive should ever make.  Like the disc is crooked and it's spinning against something.  It can't be read, obviously, so no disc appears on the desktop, which means I can't eject it that way.
I try restarting, and get an error message about not having a bootable disc.  Ya think!?

Finally, after restarting another 3 times and trying various buttons to get the disc out/make the computer read from the Mac drive, the disc pops out.  Apparently it hadn't been in the whole way, because I heard it shift and then start quietly spinning again.  Ugh.

Next attempt:  downloading the Parallels software instead of trying to use the disc, which obviously doesn't want to work.  New issue:  I have Parallels 6.  The only available version to download is Parallels 7.  I'm going to doubt the activation key for 6 doesn't work on 7, but I'm hoping that some computer entity will take mercy on my frazzled nerves and let something work easily.

The Big 6

No idea why this popped into my head, but...

I'm so thankful for my hands.  I know there's people out there who have terrible arthritis or have lost a finger or, horribly, have lost an entire hand.  I can't imagine the horror and feeling of uselessness it would cause me if any of those happened.

I love my hands.  I love being able to type, fast.  I love being able to pet my dogs.  I love being able to hold the Mister's hand.  And all the other daily activities, from cooking to folding laundry to opening the mail.  Holding a book open is another big one.  And driving.  Oh boy, if I couldn't steer with my hands...put me out of my misery.
I love being able to feel the texture of blankets and walls and leather.  The sense of touch is an awesome thing.  It's good for kissing, too.  :o)

I'm also thankful for my ears.  Because I can listen to music and my mother's voice.  Music has always been, and always will be, incredibly important to me.  I love all kinds of music and usually make time pass more quickly by listening to it while I clean or cook or read.
My sense of sound, more than once, has allowed me to locate my mom in a store--by her sniff.  She has a very distinctive sniff.  It's not obnoxious, and probably nothing anyone else would notice, but it's helped me track her down when we've gotten separated.
I love the sound of rain and birds and listening to friends.

My eyes allow me to see the world.  I can see color and distance and my lovely Mister's face.  I can view the verdant green of spring grass and watch birds gliding through the air.  I can read and read and read until my eyes are as dry as sand, but at least I can get there by reading.
I can see people when they think I'm not looking.  I notice things when others don't.
Have I mentioned I can read a lot?

Smell is probably the one sense I'm usually not aware of using.  But it smacks me in the face every now and then--like when I go home.  It always smells like home.  Or when I get a whiff of the cologne the Mister was wearing the first time we met.  The smell of old books.  Or stargazer lilies.

I love taste.  I absolutely love trying a new food and having flavor take over my world for a bite.  Raspberries are tart and sweet and juicy awesomesauce.  Caramel rolls.  Soup from the co-op (best ever!).  Pasta in a cheese sauce.
Ok, I'm making myself hungry....

Tying all those things together is my most favorite thing--my brain.  I'm SO thankful for my brain, that my mind is capable (when I've had enough sleep) and continues to learn new things every day thanks to my five senses.  I love intelligent conversation and reading a new book, or an old one, remembering something because of something I saw or tasted or smelled.  I love that I can find my mom by her smell.  How many other people can say that?

Anyway, that's my grateful list for the day.

Bits & Pieces

I've been up for almost 9 hours.  That's right, I got up at 4 AM today, although I've been awake since a little after 3.  And I didn't get to sleep until almost 1.  Needless to say, I highly doubt my post will be coherent.

I know I mentioned once before that Smudge & Lily remind me of Garfield & Odie.
Yet more evidence that Smudge is like Garfield....

Smudge cuddling w/Pookie

Yes, I have a Pookie.  I went to Garfield Elementary School, and the cartoon cat was our "mascot".  I later discovered, much to my disappointment, that the school was named after a president, not a fat orange cat.
In any case, I loved Garfield growing up, and I still have a soft spot for him.  And so when I saw Pookie, I had to get it.  I'm happy now that Smudge has a cuddle buddy when she's not cuddling with me.

In other news....

I decided to paint a wall in the bedroom.  An accent wall, like the one in our kitchen, but more complicated.  First I considered just painting it purple, or blue, or a mix of the two.  Then I settled on something different....

Gradient painting is more time consuming, but the results don't suck.

Painting a textured wall, however, does suck.

Thoughts?  Comments?  You can pretend to be impressed.

This guy I know...

He's in pain a lot.  His back/leg/shoulder/stomach/head always hurts.
He eats Cocoa Puffs and Sour Patch Kids.  Drinks nothing but Coca-Cola.  Takes Advil like it's candy.
He stresses about work a lot.  Doesn't do anything relaxing.  On a day off, he likes to lay on the couch.
There's no exercise, no hobbies, no relaxing habits.
So...he stresses, eats junk food, and has a general malaise.
But he won't change his habits, because he doesn't think they affect him physically.
How the hell can I knock some sense into the Mister?  He's driving me crazy!

Why I love romance books.

I'm a romance reader.  I know we get mocked and poked fun at, but I also know I'm not in a minority.  There are millions of people who read romance books.  Even some men (and I know one of them!).
I started reading romance the summer I was in California.  Prior to it, I was something of a voracious reader.  I read spooky RL Stine books as an adolescent.  I always filled my Book-It card for free pizzas at Pizza Hut.  I never got into the girly-ish books like Sweet Valley High, I didn't read classics like Jane Eyre and I've never read any of the Harry Potter books.

I read romance.  I love to read romance.  I started with Elizabeth Lowell which was, as a teenager, an eye-opener since some of her books are pretty steamy.  I moved on to a Harlequin series--every month, I received 4 books.  I devoured them.  They definitely weren't long enough for me to really get caught up in a story.
Then I discovered Nora Roberts.  She's a master storyteller.  I've since collected almost every book she's ever written, including the never-to-be-republished Promise Me Tomorrow.
From Nora, my horizons continued to expand.  And I'm an addict.

Romance always ends with a Happily Ever After.  Before that happens, it's been known to cause a few tears, a few laughs, and lots of sighs.  There's almost no subject that's been untouched by romance.  In the course of all my reading, I've learned about archeology, the music business, art, restaurant management and a plethora of other subjects.  There's always something new to learn.
The genre is constantly being stereotyped:  women who read it have their heads in the clouds, they have unrealistic views of relationships and sex and they don't have enough intellect to read real writing.
I'm sure I could hunt down study after study that breaks all those stereotypes.  Readers of romance have happier marriages, better sex lives, understand the difference between fiction and real life, etc.
Personally, I know my vocabulary has been expanded by some of the terminology I picked up from reading books.  I know what to expect from my relationship with the Mister.  After being married for 10 years, and reading romance for 15, I think I can say that what happens in books isn't what I'd like from him.
And every single time I pick up a new book from a favorite author, I know at least one guarantee is bound to be met--a happy ending.
When life is shitty, when work has you so stressed out you're smoking 3 cigarettes at once, when family and drama is making you want to run far, far away, and the news station is reporting this that and the other depressing news, you know without a doubt you can pick up a romance, escape for a bit, and know things will end up ok.  The characters may not be real, but if the writer has done his or her job, you believe they are, and you believe the ending they're left with--and that's at least one thing you can always look forward to, and find a bit of satisfaction from.
Not a bad deal.

Big Baby

When I was a kid, I was a big baby.  As I was in actuality my Mom's baby, my tendency was to be spoiled and get my way.  This is something I freely admit.
I've somehow managed to survive to adulthood in spite of that fact.

As a big baby who got her way, when I was sick, I was especially spoiled.
And when my tonsils were swollen and my throat was sore and the evil doctor talked about having my tonsils out and I cried to Mom that I didn't wanna have surgery, she relented.  Mom wasn't a sucker, I promise.  She just hated it when I cried.

So it is now, at the age of 30, that I still have my tonsils.  And they're infected.  Not just swollen, but infected.  And I regret being a big baby.  I'm beginning to believe that my suspicion of living the way that was portrayed in The Curious Case of Benjamin Button is the best way to do it.  Or something like that.

Now, some pics of the Big Baby (and various other people who put up with her):

I have dimples.  It's a curse.

This is my first attempt at being a femme fatale.  I think I pulled it off pretty well, considering I still have baby fat.

My cousins, K & J.  I think K was considering drowning me?  Or just washing my hair.
BTW, why do people insist on taking pics of kids in the bathtub?

Confused what to do with my left hand.  Guess I settled on scratching my butt.

Cousin K.  Wish I could hug her like this right now.

Cousin J.  His son looks almost identical to him, minus the glasses.

He still makes these faces.

Prancing Princess.

Christmas present.  Gummy smile.

Me & one of my favorite people of all time--my granddad.  Still miss him.

The three stooges.  I think we were told to look silly.  "Silly" for me meant unenthused, apparently.

Who needs kids?

In yet another example of my "who needs kids when you've got dogs (& cats)?" philosophy....

Yesterday morning I was really tired.  After replacing all the switches, I guess I needed some extra sleep.  Or something like that.
So I'm clinging to sleep.  I'm thoroughly enjoying my sleep.  I'm relishing the comatose state.  When I become aware of somebody pawing me.  Or kneading me, to be more exact.  No idea why, but Smudge was on the bed with me.  Usually she's happy just to get on the bed and curl up on the covers.  But yesterday morning, she decided to try to make a bed of me under the covers.  She's using her front paws on me like I'm a pillow she's going to knead into submission. She must've seen me sleeping and decided the only way she could enjoy her sleep as much as I was enjoying mine was to make her bed on me.
This, of course, bothers Lily.  She still likes to chew on Smudge.  In fact now that I think about it, it's probably her fault Smudge was on the bed with me--she likely chased the cat there.  Since the bed is one place Lily is not allowed to be on, the wily cat took refuge there.
As I'm becoming aware of the cat pushing on me with her little, pinpoint paws, I'm also lucky enough to hear Lily woofing at the cat.  And putting her front paws up on the bed, then bouncing back off.  Then back up, woof, down.  She was basically bouncing off the side of the bed every few seconds, woofing intermittently, pacing from one side of the bed to the other, while the cat gleefully "neener neener'd" her from atop me.
How much I love my sleep can only be obvious from this example.  While all this is going on, I'm drowsing lightly enough to emphatically tell Lily to go away.  I don't bother bugging the cat because I know if I knock her off me, she'll get cranky and jump off the bed and then her and Lily will begin the chase again.
Somehow, Lily manages to calm herself enough or I'm simply tired enough that I manage to slide back into sleep.  At some point later when I wake up, the cat is sleeping on the dresser and Lily's sleeping on her bed.

A recap:  in the past week I've cleaned up poo, puke, and furry messes.  I've been jerked from sleep by a sick dog in the middle of the night.  I've had to stop one dog from picking on the other.  I've dispensed medicine and been pestered while sleeping in, as well as making chicken & rice for the sensitive baby.
They may not be bipedal, but they're kids nonetheless.

swap switches

I got a bee in my bonnet (they're baaaaack) and decided that we needed to change all the light switches in the house this weekend.  The original toggle switches were starting to pop here & there, the Mister replaced a couple, but since more were popping and I wanted some flat switches, we changed them.
This is not a small chore.
I think we had a total of 28 switches to change, including a couple of ceiling fan controls.  Out of these, the Mister took care of 7 switches, leaving the rest for me.  I love projects and had fun, kind of, doing this.  I especially liked getting to use the power drill and getting to show off my handy work.  My fingers are raw now, but at least I can avoid using them with the new fancy switches.
I may need a toolbelt.  I'm practically a licensed contractor now.

Single switch swap

New switch added

In place

Faceplate on

Three switch swap

The one on the far left is a 4-way switch, which means it controls the lights that 2 other switches control, too

Loose toggles

More wires to deal with

New switches

In place

Face plate on

Light switch and fan control before

Light switch and fan control after

28 switches, 17 face plates (there's a couple missing in this pic).  The messy table is chaos caused by the

Middle switch is also a fan control--now when we turn on the fan, it automatically goes to the favorite speed