Thursday, December 5, 2013
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
Monday, December 2, 2013
Pachinko machine in action
Alas, the pachinko machine made it through a few moves, but when my mother sold our house, I didn't take it with me to Virginia. I see one every so often -- there's one in a window display across the street from Stove in Portsmouth -- and just searched for mine online about two weeks ago. I'm not sure I'd recognize my specific machine if I saw it. Mom just sent me an email earlier today asking me if I knew there was a pachinko app. I can't bring myself to spend the $0.99 to see if it still makes the same obnoxious noises. Let's just assume it does.
The thought of it makes me smile, though. It represents what my parents would do/put up with to make me happy. And for that I'm quietly thankful.
Sunday, December 1, 2013
Saturday, November 30, 2013
Friday, November 29, 2013
Thursday, November 28, 2013
I Think You Might Like It
Happy Thanksgiving! Next stop, Christmas!
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
Monday, November 25, 2013
Sunday, November 24, 2013
Grab a hankie or three:
Thank you, Mom
Saturday, November 23, 2013
Friday, November 22, 2013
Thursday, November 21, 2013
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
And if that bumpbumpbumpbump of the motorcycle is supposed to mimic Kanye's sexual prowess, he might want to slow down a little lest he gives himself a hernia. F*ck like bunnies, indeed.
Don't let me influence you; see for yourself:
Monday, November 18, 2013
Sunday, November 17, 2013
So it occurred to me a while ago that we should start a Kickstarter campaign to raise funds for the other half of our genetic equation. My girlfriend either rolls her eyes or just keeps talking when I say this little joke to our friends and family. I brought it up again tonight after we were checking out the pricey cryobank donor menu and decided to see if anyone had tried crowdsourcing for this product. Sure enough, CNN Money did a story on it in July of 2013:
Crowdfunding for adoptions, fertility treatments
Girlfriend is not digging it at all. I kind of like it. "Sponsor Our Kid!" I know with Kickstarter that you as a supporter receive different gifts/incentives for your donation, usually increasing in value proportionately to the donation amount. So I'm thinking we can have Junior draw you some pictures or you can buy his or her middle name. Maybe a corporate sponsorship if the crowdsourcing doesn't work out? We can put your company's logo on diapers or the stroller? Maybe put Junior in a logo-saturated little pair of Nascar coveralls??
I can dig it.
Girlfriend is not amused. I'll keep working on her, so please have your credit card ready. ;)
Saturday, November 16, 2013
Friday, November 15, 2013
You can take the test yourself here:
Thursday, November 14, 2013
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Monday, November 11, 2013
Sunday, November 10, 2013
Saturday, November 9, 2013
Friday, November 8, 2013
PS -- "Have vs. of" was my favorite. :)
Thursday, November 7, 2013
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
Maybe he didn't hear how similar the words sound. Governor. Governing. Nah...not related.
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
Monday, November 4, 2013
My girlfriend and I bought a house in August, right around the time I finally got my house professionally renovated in an attempt to rent it. The renovation's been done over a month now and it's been taking us FOREVER to get the place ready to rent. Painting went fairly well, but it seems like even the simplest tasks snowball into something much bigger. We are thisclose to being done.
I have a termite warrantee with my pest people and they contacted me saying the underwriter of the warrantee requires the occasional inspection of the structure for termites. I set it up for today and the good news is that there is no evidence of termite damage.
The bad news is that the pest control technician emerged from under my house and said she startled two Norway rats nesting in insulation under my house. She mentioned that they startled her as well.
She then proceeded to take me on a tour of my previous-owner-oddly-renovated closets to show me every nook and cranny through which my crawl space tenants can enter the living quarters. She suggested I replace all of the foundation vents to keep the rats from entering the crawl space. But here's my question: how do I get them out of the crawl in the first place? Because if I seal off the foundation vents better, they'll be trapped in the crawl. And when they want to leave, where will they go? Up into the living quarters!
I had a similar problem a few years back (Rats!) and was worried I'd trap them in the attic. My boss at the time suggested I get a cat and just leave it in the attic. And then I guess I'd get a dog to get rid of the cat and then Tweety Bird would make some sarcastic comment as Granny hit me with an umbrella...
In addition to my new Rat Relocation Project, it looks like I need to get some debris removed from the crawl, have new insulation properly installed, and cover the remaining 40% of the crawl floor that is without a vapor barrier.
I can't afford to have a pro do it, so I'm either going to have to do it myself ("Address the rats." "Helloooo, rats!") or pay some poor shlub in beer to do it. Beer, I can afford. More materials for my house? Negatory.
Home ownership is not for p*ssies.
At least I had an unexpected cavity in a molar today at my 6-month cleaning and got that filled. It's been 10 years since I had Novocaine and I had a itsy bitsy teeny weeny anxiety attack as it took hold. I'm not proud. :)
(It's All an Adventure)
Sunday, November 3, 2013
So here we have this young lady who made a really bad decision. Check out the response avalanche. Let's be careful out there, folks. Especially on the interwebs. Remember, the people who comment on news articles can see you.
What Happens When You Dress as a Boston Marathon Victim
I'm thinking she's either a grief counselor or an etiquette maven.
Maybe I can start a support group for people with inappropriate senses of humor. I'll wear my hanger. Please, no pictures.
*Title provided by Girlfriend, after watching me stare at this completed, nameless blog post for 30 minutes. Thanks, PB!
Saturday, November 2, 2013
Friday, November 1, 2013
Thursday, September 19, 2013
Thursday, September 12, 2013
Thursday, June 27, 2013
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
My girlfriend’s father is getting married this Saturday – three days after the Supreme Court rules on two potentially huge marriage equality cases. I’ve got to be honest – if we lose, that ceremony is going to be particularly difficult to sit through. Especially since my girlfriend and I are among the sanest and most committed and healthiest of the attendees. And yet, as of right now, and god-forbid Saturday, we can’t get married. Oh, we can get “married,” but not with all the legal door prizes afforded the straights.
I was thinking about the wedding earlier and decided I’d tell my girlfriend that if they have the tragic bouquet toss, that we should each do everything we can to catch it. And then I thought about what a demeaning tradition that is. Do women still compete with each other to get married? Is catching the bouquet and Mr. Right still such a desperate goal for women? It’s difficult for me to appreciate. And then I wondered if the majority of men even really want to get married. The whole thing still seems so skewed towards women. You don’t see movies about men desperately searching for and catching the right woman.
And then it occurred to me….we created all of this nonsense. We zeroed in on the biology of human reproduction and dictated the rest. If we had just recognized that different people exist and have every right to exist and can form unions any way they please instead of declaring at some point that only a man and woman could have a marriage, none of this would have to be fixed. If fifteen consenting adults want to have a binding contract sharing their money, home, and names, who gives a f*ck? Are we not adults who can figure this stuff out for ourselves? If those same fifteen people want to raise children and the children's welfare is healthy, who gives a f*ck? The Federal government offers incentives for people to marry in an effort to build stability in the family unit. Not for nothing, the divorce statistics would indicate otherwise.
Similarly, if we had treated people fairly from the beginning, there'd be no need for the Voting Rights Act (which took a hit today). SCOTUS struck down a provision of the Voting Rights Act claiming it's no longer necessary because the states that had discriminatory practices in the past have increased the voter diversity -- because of the Voting Rights Act! It's akin to manic depressives not taking their medication anymore when they're manic because they believe they're happy and no longer depressed... And then, they crash into a deeper depression because they're off their meds.
And then there's dear Paula Deen. Anne Rice posted this to her Facebook today:
My girlfriend and I want to get married and start a family. We’re both productive members of society. We more than hold our own in the brains and ethics department. Isn’t that a good thing? We’ll call it a civil union if that’s what it takes. The religions can trademark Marriage.
These boundaries and bindings were created out of thin air. They are discriminatory.
DO THE RIGHT THING, SCOTUS.
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
“Hello! Excuse me?” came from a woman across the street.
[Oh, here we go…]
“Yes. Hi,” as I continued toward my car.
“Hi! My name’s Rachel…,” expecting me to tell her mine. I didn’t. I’m not sure why. “Is that your house? Do you live there?”
[I don’t want to freely admit I’m almost never home. What if she or a friend breaks in?]
“I just…are you going to rent your house? It’s awfully cute.”
“Thanks. That's the plan. I’m getting it fixed up with the hope of renting it soon.” I squeaked out, uncomfortably. What was this, twenty questions?
“I thought you might be. I’ve seen the contractors and the lawn people, but didn’t see you much. My mother owns this house,” as she points behind her. “She just passed. My mother just passed.”
And this is what it took to knock me out of my standoffishness. “I’m so sorry.” And I was. Truly.
“Thank you. She had lung cancer and had surgery, but there were complications and everything just went downhill kind of fast.”
[Why didn’t I know she had lung cancer? Why didn’t I ever say Hello to her or introduce myself? She was so proud in that picture…]
“I’m so sorry. I remember the article when she bought the house……”
“Yeah... I guess I’ll just look for a rental sign or something?”
“OK,” realizing I should give her my number or take hers, but still not willing to make that overture. “I’m so sorry about your mom,” I concede.
I am the biggest a-hole on the planet. Why am I so private when it comes to my neighbors? I don’t want to be in their business and I don’t want them in mine. I've been this way for as long as I can remember.
I remember the article about her. I had planned on going over to introduce myself. But does anyone do that anymore? No one welcomed me to the neighborhood. The only reason I even know one neighbor is because a friend worked with her and her son befriended me when he was younger. Another neighbor across the street tormented me regularly with his leaf blower and his wife only spoke to me once. She complained that my dog was defecating in my front yard and then warned me that children were cutting through my back yard. She leaned in and whispered that they were, “black,” as if that would horrify me and seemingly forgetting that she, too, was black.
I always remembered the article about her. I wanted to paint my front door red but didn’t want to take away from hers. I thought it would be rude since I knew how much it meant to her.
Beyond the contents of the article, I didn’t know much about her. She had a gray Fiat that she used to drive around the house so that she could pull forward out of her driveway. At the height of the recession, she had a grizzled man living in a trailer in her backyard, but that didn’t last long. I think she may have gotten a small dog recently.
I am a terrible neighbor.
Here’s the article. She was so proud. And she reminded me a little bit of my grandmother, Grace, in the first photo. I’m sorry, Mrs. Spear. I’ll do better.
70-year-old proves age isn't a factor in purchasing a first home