The longest sentence in history

Have you ever had one of those days where you wake up feeling great because you'd had a lot of fun with a friend the day before and then you open up your inbox and find a bitchy email from that friend because she's pissed off about something you said clear at the very beginning of the day yesterday and in the email she bitches at you because when there is a misunderstanding you should pick up the phone and discuss it instead of just emailing/texting (seriously, that just happened) but then you just ignore it because you were kinda sick of her anyway except about a half hour later you're all "MOTHERFUCKER I did that exact same shit to my then-boyfriend and I am a terrible girlfriend" and you spend the rest of the day watching Spongebob Squarepants and drinking vodka straight out of the bottle and wondering why your now-husband ever proposed in the first place cuz seriously, you suck.

Yeah, me neither.  I was just asking on behalf of a friend.  And I am she is drunk.

It's like giant metal chickens, only cheaper

Last Thursday, I went out with a friend and her daughter... we went to a movie, lunch, and then a rather ill-advised trip to Target.  I went in intending to buy dog treats and toilet paper.  I came out $147 poorer.  Long story.  Also, Target employees look at you strangely if you start sword fighting with water noodles in the aisles. 

Anyway, one of the impulse purchases was a new shower curtain and rod.  Wait, can it be called an impulse purchase if you've been planning to do it for over 3 years?  Hmm.  See in my bathroom, there is this huge handy shelf area behind the door:

(apparently red-eye reducer doesn't work on dogs.  he's not really satan, he just likes to pretend)

Well I love my handy dandy shelf area for collecting all my girly stuff.  But I hate that it's just shelves and not a closet.  But I don't want a door there... for many reasons.  1. I don't want to have to build up the wall and install a door, 2. I don't really want it COMPLETELY closed in cuz we've had mold problems in the basement and air circulation is a good thing, and 3. the two doors banging into each other would suck.  So I got the brilliant idea to just get another shower curtain and hang it up to kinda block off the view to all my girly stuff. 

Aaaaaaaand we're back to the beginning of the story.  Semi-impulse-shopping at Target.  However, in my state of delirium, I forgot shower curtain hooks.  Rod?  Check.  Curtain?  Check.  Method to connect the two?  Fail.

The hubby was out of town at the time, didn't come home until Sunday.  Actually didn't come home until really late, I was already sound asleep by the time he got here.  Monday morning I get up and head to the basement for a shower and look what was sitting on my bathroom counter!

I fired off an email to the Designated Hitter "Guess what?  Some asshole broke into our house and left trash on my bathroom counter!  What the hell?!"  He's so damned sweet, he offered to put up the hooks for me.  *sigh*  When I told him they were going in the trash, he pointed out that it would be way funnier to regift them this Christmas... he and my grandma have had quite the tradition of giving each other rival team gifts over the last few years.  So now I need to stow them somewhere for the next 6 months and hope I don't forget come December!  *double sigh*

Self-Imposed Hiatus

Actually there's no big righteous sacrificial moment of morality causing me to step away from the blog.  It's just that, well, I started another one.  COMPLETELY DIFFERENT.  I have a project I'm working on and I started a family-friendly blog to document the work I'm doing.  And I'm not ambitious or organized enough to juggle two blogs.  So you probably won't see me around here much for a while.  As if you had seen me much this month. 

But before I go, I'd like to apologize for the giant pity party I threw in my last post.  I hate it when I do that.  And then I get mad at myself.  And then I go into an even bigger funk.  And then I yell at myself for wallowing in my misery instead of doing something about it.  And then I cry.  And it gets ugly.  I don't know if it's over, but I've been trying to at least distract myself from it for a bit.  Doesn't fix the problem, but at least I get a break. 

Anyway, if you're reading this and want to know where the new blog is, email me.  If you don't know how to email me, then you don't get to read the new blog!  I'm sure I'll be back here one of these days.  Probably when my family does something insanely stupid.  But just wanted to give a heads up as to why I'm going to be missing for a while. 

If it sucks, you can eat a sandwich

(First - a question: Am I supposed to capitalize every word of my blog post titles?  Not capitalizing makes it look weird.  Capitalizing makes it look too formal.  This is why I hated English classes!)

(Second - a confession.  I have two or three started-but-not-finished saved drafts of posts.  I'm going to try to rectify that situation)

My parental unit came to visit last weekend.  We hit a local Mardi Gras party, and went to a music show.  And played a lot of cards.  And ate a lot.  The title of this post came from the weekend.  First, I cooked something in the crock pot for dinner Friday night.  I wasn't sure when everyone was going to get here, mom and dad were driving in, Hitter was coming from a business trip, crock pot food can kind of hang out and wait until everyone's ready.  Perfect. 

I titled this picture "Surly Crock Pot"



Problem.  I felt compelled to make a recipe I'd never tried before.  So... I told everyone "if it sucks, you can eat a sandwich!" which then kind of became catch phrase of the weekend.  Saturday night, dad wanted wings from a restaurant where I had no idea how the wings were... so I told him to go ahead and order them, and if they suck he can go home and eat a sandwich.  Sunday we had no idea what we were getting into with the music show, it was something none of us had heard of before.  So... you guessed it!  "Well I guess if the show sucks we can always leave... and come home and eat sandwiches" 

And that explains the title of the post.

New topic: I've been having more fun with cameras.  I've officially become a photography nut.  Not a photographer, not even someone whose hobby is photography.  I'm just nuts.  On a high note, I finally learned how to use the dSLR on manual setting.  On a low note, I've become a little disillusioned with that camera and want a shiny new big fancy one.  Except I don't have a spare $1500 laying around.  And I want a macro lens, but I don't have a spare $500 laying around either.  *sigh* 

Which brings me to my next point.  Money doesn't buy happiness.  Yeah yeah I know, you hear that all the time.  And if you don't have money, you think this is a whole load of crap.  Hear me out.  Actually, don't.  I think everyone should quit reading.  Because I'm about to have the world's biggest pity party.

I really know how to have a good time, huh?  Okay let me start by saying I know I have it pretty good.  And I hate it when I go into a pity party because I know that there are gobs of people that would love to switch places with me.  And I WOULDN'T want to switch places with most of them.  So life is peachy, right?

Wrong.

There's still something missing.  And it's a biggie.  And it's not something I can buy.  Nor is it something Hitter can buy for me.  Sometimes I tell Hitter that my life was easier when I was poor.  Crazy, right?  But it's true. 

I miss independence.  I miss freedom.  I miss privacy.  I miss respect. 

I keep having recurring dreams where I'm back in college.  I dream about the town, I dream about classes and homework and professors, and I dream about the dorms.  (Irony, huh?  Privacy... dorms... yeah right!)  Everyone keeps reminding me "you can't go back, it wouldn't be the same" and 1. yeah I know that 2. I'm not going to go back, am I? 3. even if I did go back I wouldn't want it to be just the same... but mostly I can't go back.  However, it's not that I want to go relive my college days, it's that I miss what college represented.  Friends.  Independence.  Fun.  Making my own decisions.  Making do with what I had.  Doing crazy things because they were fun.  Making new friends everywhere I went.  Teetering on that line between fun and stupid.    Did I mention friends?  And fun?  Yeah.  Not just fun and friends though, I worked.  I went to class and had a job.  I had a job I loved, and I gave up the traditional spring break so I could go get another job.  I spent my summers on internships.  But they were what I wanted to do.  My decisions.  My independence.  MY LIFE. 

I have NONE of that now.  I am stuck in this Hillbilly Hell/Snooty City with no friends.  I can't do anything with my life cuz I'm stuck here where there is nothing for me.  I can't do anything without clearing it with my warden husband first.  And he's a fun-hater.  So I buy myself things to try to get happy... but it doesn't work. 

It sucks, and I eat a sandwich.  I hate pity parties.  They make me feel ashamed of myself.  And all they serve are sandwiches.  Bleh.  Mostly I'm ashamed though, sandwiches are okay.  I kinda hate myself a little bit.  And I don't know what to do about it all. 

Potpourri Pot (heh heh I said "pot")

This is going to be a little bit of everything.  Total mish-mash.  Lots of things to talk about, none of them worthy of their own entire post.

Remember that midlife crisis I had last fall?  Yeah it's still going on.  Yesterday morning I was on the phone with Hitter (he was out of town over the weekend) and he tells me that his HR guy had sent him an email about a new job opportunity (just a new role within the same company)  This is not surprising, this company plays apple-cart-upset about every 18 months or so, and Hitter's been in this same role for 3 years now, so he's WAY overdue for a shakeup.  Of course I never really look forward to these games of corporate musical chairs, because this happens:

Yeah.  That's a lot of fun to deal with.  Side effects include irritability, short temper, complete lack of understanding, and general assholedness.  Except he's already been like that lately with the current position, so how much worse can the transition to something new be? 

Famous last words.

So anyway, I just kinda went "yeah whatever okay" when Hitter mentioned possible new position.  Right up until he said that it would involve a move.  And then my emotions got on the biggest baddest roller coaster ever. 

Just a few colors short of a Jackson Pollock painting

"OMG I might actually get out of Hillbilly Hell?!"

"Wait, when I imagined moving away, it wasn't to go to the east coast.  Ugh"

"Well, we wouldn't stay there for more than 2 or 3 years, I can do that.  And I'd get to move!"

"Hitter would never go for that, he couldn't be that far from his family"

"God what an ass, he is the reason I am so miserable!  Why won't he move away from here?  I hate Hillbilly Hell!"

"Wait, I'm a shitty wife.  Could I really move that far away?  I'd have to fly EVERYWHERE and I hate to fly.  So really I'm just blaming him and using him as the scapegoat but I wouldn't like it either"
"But there might be work and/or school opportunities out there that don't exist here"

"But the east coast is one giant city running into the next giant city, and my biggest problem here is that it's a freaking city"

"Seriously though, I want to get the hell away from this damned place!  I don't even care where I'm going next"

"Although... I'd have to leave my house and my pool and I kinda like them.  And I probably wouldn't get anything I'd like out there"

"But it would be an opportunity to get away from everything around here that's making me miserable, including my family."

"Except I probably won't be happy out there either.  I'm not sure if I've ever been happy.  And I don't think I ever will be happy.  Ugh.  Just... ugh."

It's like the lamest roller coaster ever.  Anyway the good news is I don't need to worry about it anymore because Hitter said he isn't taking it.  He wouldn't like the work, it's way out of his comfort zone and possibly not even something he really agrees with.  Althoug who knows with him, because he pretty much agrees with anything the Beloved Corporation does. 

So I think I'll quit thinking about that.  Or maybe I'll just quit thinking.

Random Internet Stupidity:

I got this in an email.  Don't get me wrong, I love me some Mike Rowe... *drool*... but seriously?  He's doing videos telling idiots they need to get their oil changed?  Wow.  I can't decide whether to be more annoyed by Ford thinking they need to make videos telling people that if the check engine light comes on you'd better... well... check the engine, or by the fact that I think Mikey boy has finally hit the "overexposure" status.  Perhaps a while ago. 

His voice is still dreamalicious though. 

New subject: my year-in-pictures is still going, although sometimes it's not very interesting.  I made it all the way to oooooooh about January 11 before I realized that some days I just don't have anything photo-worthy in my life.  So I've been randomly filling the boring days in with extra pictures from interesting days.  In some ways, that's probably a good thing though.  Then I can remember that good things do happen sometimes, and occasional boring days aren't the end of the world.  [/philosophical comments]  And then there were a couple days when I had specific pictures in mind that I wanted to use on those specific days... didn't get the pictures... and then didn't update the album. 

Today I had to catch up on two weeks worth of pictures.  There was much procrastination of anything that others would consider "productive".  Kitchen's still a mess, house didn't get cleaned, dog needs more exercise (although thank goodness the co-dependent beast actually spent an entire half hour in the back yard today without me) laundry didn't get done, trim didn't get painted, closets didn't get decluttered, office stuff didn't get organized, and most importantly, Hitter's model train didn't get landscaped.  Most importantly to him anyway.  I really don't care much, and I didn't feel that his hobby needed to be prioritized above mine, but I'm probably still going to catch hell for it tomorrow when he gets home.  *sigh* 

I think that's enough for now.  Way past my bedtime. 

Two Days: Gone

I officially need something to do with my life.  I have spent most of the last two days doing the following:

1. Watching old Doctor Who reruns.  And new Doctor Who reruns.  And realizing that Doctor Who is totally Barty Crouch Jr.  That last one kinda sucks, really.  Cuz Doctor Who is awesome, and Barty Crouch Jr. was a complete asshole. 

2. Watching Eagle Cam.  Up in Decorah Iowa there is a fish hatchery.  Right near the fish hatchery, there is a bald eagle nest.  Some people who might be bigger nerds than I am (I say that with the utmost of love and respect... I adore nerds) have put two webcams up watching this eagle nest.  It streams, live, 24 hours a day (one of the cameras is infrared equipped for when the sun goes down) at http://www.raptorresource.org/ and there are a whole bunch of us dorks with nothing better to do than watch these eagles try to make a comfy nest in the middle of the ice and snow. 

Apparently it's still freaking cold in Decorah Iowa. 

When the nest is covered in snow, it kind of looks like a powdered sugar topped funnel cake.  NOW I WANT A FUNNEL CAKE, DAMMIT!  It looked like that this morning, but mama and daddy eagle have been working on the nest and now it mostly looks like a nest again.  This is halfway through the re-nesting.  It's even more cozy now. 

Speaking of nest, that thing weighs 1.5 tons.  TONS!  It's 6 feet in diameter.  And it's actually kind of a smallish, newer nest.  They just started this nest in 2007... the previous nest fell out of the tree when a branch broke in a windstorm.  Don't stand under it in a wind storm. 

Speaking of things to not stand under... today daddy eagle brought mama eagle a dove for lunch.  After mama had her fill, well, don't stand under the eagle! 

not shown: eagle poop

One of the cameras is fixed, the other can be manually operated.  The operator can pan around (i.e. the poop image above) and he can zoom in.  At one point I'm pretty sure daddy eagle looked me square in the eyes and saw all the way through to my heathen unpatriotic soul. 

At the peak of nest-building and camera-operating, the viewer count climbed over 1200. 

Meanwhile, I sit here watching it and the size of my ass also goes over 1200...  or something like that.  I should get up and do something productive with my day, especially now that the eagles are off doing something with their day. 



*All images are screengrabs I took while watching the video.  Credit goes to http://www.raptorresource.org/ go and give them advertising dollars or something. 

P.S. I didn't turn the computer off in time.  They both just showed up for some more nest building.  They're getting close to egg-laying time!  Oooh and daddy brought lunch!  Which led to a fight.  C'mon daddy, let mama eat... she's gotta make eggs. 

P.S.again if you do go watch eagle cam, be prepared for bloody lunch.  The circle of life is shown.  And eagle poop. 

I need a hobby.  Or a job.  Or a life. 

No, You Choose. Really.

An email conversation, for your enjoyment.  My friend... we'll call her Patty... and her husband were going to meet Hitter and me for dinner after she got off work last night.  And the following insanity ensued:

Patty (5:07 pm) Hey... are we still meeting tomorrow?
Me (6:12 pm) Yep we're planning on it.  You have to work, right?  Wanna meet somewhere halfway-ish?
P (7:31 pm) You pick.  We'll meet you there
P (8:24 pm) PS Hubby says no mexican, he's still allergic to seafood.  How about that fancy BBQ place halfway between us?
(me, inside my head: he's STILL allergic to seafood?  did he think that would go away?  and you ate at a mexican restaurant that serves FABULOUS shrimp enchiladas twice in the last month, so WTF?)
Me (8:34 pm) Perfect, I've been wanting to go there. 
P (8:48) Reservations are required.  How about 7:00?  Do you want to call or should I?
(and before I even had a chance to respond to this email or call)
P (8:52) Earliest reservation is 9:00, I said no.
(the next two emails were sent simultaneously)
Me (8:55) Yeah that's a bit late.  What about 1st Ave?  No reservations required, and Hitter and I can get there a little early to get our name on the list. 
P (8:55) I know Hubby said no mex, but what about Vista Grande?  I know we can sit around and drink and not get run out.  Let me know your thoughts.  No strip clubs.
Me (8:56) I wasn't aware there were any strip clubs around here!  Can your hubby stay sufficiently seafood-free there?  I mean I want to see you guys but it isn't worth anaphylactic shock!
P (10:32, replying to my 1st Ave suggestion) K, where is that?  I mean I know it's on 1st Ave, but which town?
Me (5:55 the next morning, 10:30 is WAY too late for me) Whoops!  I meant 1st Ave Grill!  It's across the street from the mall, just down the street from the fancy BBQ place you'd suggested.  (sidebar: I don't even know where there is a "first avenue" around here... they don't name streets that way in this little section of Hillbilly Hell)
P (7:58) Bandana's BBQ.  7:15.
(me: reading entire email thread to Hitter, laughing at how "you pick" turned into "here's what you're doing, and you're going to like it")
Me (12:05) OK see you then.
P (12:50) Is that ok?
Me (1:14) Yep
(me, inside my head: do I even have a choice?!)

This totally brought back the memory of the night, in the first year of our marriage, that Hitter offered to take me out to eat, and said "anywhere you want to go... your choice" 
Me: Italian
Him: No, I just had that yesterday at work
Me: Chinese
Him: No, I'm not really in the mood.  How about Mexican?
Me: what happened to "anywhere you want to go"?????
and for those keeping score, we still went for Mexican food. 
Hi, I'm a doormat.  How are you?