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Archive for September, 2009

The road to hell

I had great intentions of having lots of interesting and funny things to say tonight, but then I got really distracted by this blog – Strange Maps.   I love maps.  That, coupled with the fact that my laptop is on his last leg and the keyboard only works when tilted a little forward, has sort of zapped my creative energy. 

Briscoe is asleep next to me, dreaming of something, because her legs twitch every few moments, like she is running in her sleep.  She and I went on a walk today and she has been very full of herself ever since. 

Sometimes, when I’m browsing facebook, and I notice that someone has something really uncool on their profile, like a guy who lists the notebook as one of his favorite movies or lists hootie and the blowfish as one of his favorite bands (you know, those guilty pleasure books, movies, bands that most people secretly like but pretend like they don’t) I immediately wonder – Is this person really cool and confident in themselves and really doesn’t give a damn that they still listen to the first Hanson album and loves the indigo girls? Or, is this person just dweebie enough to have no idea?  Does this make me a judgmental bitch?  Really, I know people in both categories.  Either is a distinct possibility. 

Oh, I was going to post about Serena Williams and Kanye.  But I’m too tired now and I can pretty much sum it up with three letters.  Boo.  Wait, here is a longer word – Unacceptable.  Childish, immature, and sort of scary.  I feel bad for Venus, she seems much less of a diva and much cooler of a person.  I can’t believe that Serena said that she didn’t understand why the line judge felt threatened.  Really?  Serena is what, like 6’3?  She’s a really large, imposing figure.  But you know who isn’t?  Kanye.  Taylor Swift towered over him.  Do you think that is why he took the mic away from her?  Because she’s 5’11 and had on heels and he’s 5’7? 

Honestly, I’m just always disappointed when super stars misbehave and try to intimidate those around them.  I don’t like it when you pick on the little line judge or the 17 year old county music singer when you are the most imposing female tennis player ever and one of the biggest icons in the music industry.  It seems, tacky.  But I do like the way Beyonce handled it.  She is classy.  

On a happier, lighter note, fall is here.  The mornings have become consistently cool and the fall smells are here.  The warm afternoon intensifies the tea olives and the late jasmine, gardenias and hydragas.  The damp humid, cooler mornings smell of oak bark, fallen leaves and wet grass.  I’ve been drinking a lot of starbucks.  Coffee is so much more enjoyable when it doesn’t make you sweat. 

Sweet dreams children, Briscoe has now rolled over on her back and is snoring with all four feet in the air.  I think I will join her.  It is much easier to count sheep when you have a live one laying at your feet.

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I have been dog sitting for my parents for the past week.  Bo and Bella are kind of ridiculous dogs, but I love them and they have been trying to be cooperative, but mother nature has been making this very difficult. 

I went to sleep early on Monday night, and Briscoe was upstairs with me.  Bo and Bella were downstairs in the kitchen.  All the sudden I hear a CRASH!  It sounded like the baby gate we use to keep the dogs in the kitchen had fallen down.  This happens on occassion and isn’t a big deal, since the dogs are deathy afraid of the gate and won’t climb over it.  The concerning part, was that there continued to be crashing and noise from downstairs.  Not in the kitchen.  When meant, something other than the two dogs I’d left downstairs was presently enjoying the classic decor of the living room. 

I called Travers, he said he’d be right there.  I called Matt, cause he was in the cottage, and he came over to help.  Briscoe was freaking out.  She ran into the living room and I watched in horror as she chased a squirrel up the plaster wall and onto the window scounce. 

Can you see his arm and leg?

Can you see his arm and leg?

Matt got close to the window, and the damn thing fell, bounced on his back on the table, leapt onto the piano, almost knocked over every breakable object in the house before hiding behind the china cabinet.  Smart animal.  Too heavy to move, too fragile to try. 

The dogs were so traumatized.  I had to physically carry Bella into the house and drag her into the kitchen.  She knew the squirrel was still there.  She knew.  Well, two days later, after chewing through a couple of electrical and cable cords, setting the alarm off and otherwise terrorizing the dogs, I came downstairs yesterday morning to find a dead squirrel on the rug in the living room.  Sweet.  Dead things.  Well, we all know I can’t pick up the squirrel or go near it, since the last time I tried to pick up a dead squirrel he wasn’t dead and bit me. 

The dogs had had enough of me forcing them to hang out inside with a squirrel, and flat refused to come inside yesterday morning, so I left them outside.  I put water under the house and made sure they couldn’t get out anywhere.  And I found the biggest spider I’ve ever seen.  bananaspiderI freaked out, got in touch with Josh (Josh is a professor and has his phd in forestry bugs – I saw his dissertation, the man knows his bugs), and anxiously awaited his instructions.  Josh said she won’t hurt me, that it’s what they call a banana spider, they are quite common and spin really pretty webs which they use to catch beetles (read – roaches) and mosquitoes.  He further recommended that I grab a few beetles and throw them in her nest, because she will attack them and spin them into a cocoon before she eats them and that it is “neat” to watch (his words, not mine).  Sweet.  It really made me miss him.  I told Josh I appreciated his expert opinion but that I would not be throwing any beetles anywhere.  I am really pumped that she eats mosquitoes and roaches, so I’ve decided to keep her as a pet.  I’ve named her Hermione and she has been watching the dogs for me while I’ve been at work.  She is the size of my fist and I swear I can lean on her web without it breaking.  It’s like fishing line. 

My life is so national geographic.   

Other happening of note, we had a successful last minute cook out last night, with lots of tomatoes, cheese, beer, hamburgers, chicken, and french fries.  It was a victory of effortless entertaining, low stress, high enjoyment, everyone left happy and full.   Thanks to Kate and Trav for going out of town. 

I have woken up the past few mornings to a chill in the air, which has made my coffee taste better and my over all personal happiness level improve.  My imagination immediately transports me to a morning where I am getting ready to get into a car to drive to Athens for a football game, instead of driving to the office.  Of course in that scenario I would be drinking a cold beer instead of hot coffee. 

But you know what today is don’t you?  GAME DAY!  I want everyone to be watching football tonight.  I hope that everyone has been watching the HBO series Hard Knocks, which is a reality show about the Cincinnati Bengal’s training camp.  I get really sad when anyone gets cut, it’s so depressing for the players to be woken up at 5 am and sent home.  But I really really really love Chad Ocho Cinco.  Love.  Child Please.  I could say it all day long.  Child.  Please.  child.  PLEASE.  child…please.  CHILD please. 

And I know I’m never suppose to say such a thing, but I’m going to say this once and only once.  This is for Ike and Peter and Matt and Claire and Darius (I love your music Darius).  Ahem.  Um.  Give me a second.  Deep Breathes.  DEEP.  Okay.  Here goes.  go cocks!

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