February 26, 2008

Why Are The Scots So Bitchy?

Whew. Moving sucks big goat balls. I am tired, tired, and more tired. I am pissy and grouchy and altogether unpleasant to be around. My Our house is a mess.

How quickly gratitude can disappear. How quickly your gleeful attitude turns to irritation. Rudeness. Grumpy McGrumpyness.

Mere days is all it takes to move from being just blown over by how well life is to being a snippy little bitch. Hey, babe….umm…sorry.

I have discussed before the irritation of dealing with small town New Mexico.

My decision to start an import/export business during my “brief” trip to Houston.

Every birthday should end in fast food, tears and vodka shooters.

Monkeys, lower evolutionary development, fucking retarded idiots – semantics – New Mexico has them all baby.

1,001 Reasons to Sue Your Apartment Complex.

There are things that I haven’t written about…my fights with 2 different doctors’ office. The resultant collection attempt that is marring my perfect credit score. My love’s dealings with things that I probably shouldn’t refer to because this is my blog and not his, and my career and not his. Have you seen the movie, The Hills Have Eyes? I wholly believe it was taped in Oil Field, New Mexico. And is a true story. ‘Nuff Said. Word to your mother.

(HAHAHAHA!!! After intense fact-checking because this is a quality blog, well written, researched, and factually accurate – the movie DOES take place in NM. There, Bitches.


So…this is what we were faced with. I flew in Sunday, needed to be moved back across Texas asap so I could return to the Great Law Office in the Sky and draft more TPS reports. We needed to get a U-haul, a trailer, a rebuilt transmission, boxes, return the cable box, pack, clean and get a seal of approval on the clean apartment.

The sheer terror that rose over me thinking of the difficulties we would face when working on this move….

I couldn’t get a piece of fried chicken in this town without a fight. It is simply impossible, (under normal city standards), to do anything in this small town.

I would like a hamburger, no onions or tomatoes, add bacon. HUH! WTH. We don’t have no bacon burger. Well, could you add bacon to a hamburger? NO. We ain’t got no bacon on a burger. Do you have bacon? Yea. Can you place it on top of a burger? NO. I done told you no. We don’t do those high-falutin burger deals here, lady. See. Impossible. You want something. You can’t have it. Welcome to New Mexico.

So…we set out with great trepidation on Monday. We obtained a U-haul, the exact trailer we needed and sufficient boxes in less than an hour. Perfect. Ecstatic exclamations may have been heard.

We then had to obtain a vehicle that was in a shop. A rebuilt transmission. Work that was originally quoted to take a week. We wanted it done over a weekend, ready Monday afternoon. They agreed. We did not truly believe them. We had lived in the area long enough to know the difficulties that arise from needing things from other people. Be it toothpaste from Wal-Mart, a burger from Burger King, a tire rotation at a tire rotation place. Not Easy. Staples has an easy button. These are not advertised at the local Staples. It would be false advertising and I would sue.

The truck was ready when quoted. For the low end of the quote. We passed out. Woke up. Drove the truck home. And it worked. The tranny didn’t fall out. We made it back to Oil Field in one piece. Life was looking up.

I do believe that when things are right, when things are meant to happen, it is clockwork. Greased wheels, however you want to describe it. In a Land of You Cannot Have It How You Want It Because We Said So, we were given everything exactly the way that we wanted, in normal world time, without hassle. In a year of living in this area, this has never before happened. It was unnatural. Supernatural, Yes, Joel Osteen, we were living in the Supernatural.

Life was wonderful. Life is wonderful.

We got all the moving accoutrements in place. We boxed and moved and got rid of a bunch of crap to the bestest home in the entire world.

We drove and drove and drove.

We then hired people to carry all our crap up the 89 stairs that lead to our place. It took them 63 minutes. It would have taken us 6.3 days.

The worst thing we could think of that happened during this blessed week was that my sandwich at McDonald’s was kinda gross. The very worst thing. Hmmm….aren’t we amazingly fortunate.

However, then I have to go and get all involved. I have to “feel” a certain way. I have to get tired and bitchy and cranky. I have a dirty house, boxes everywhere. I am exhausted. And people at work talk to me. I hate when people talk to me. Quit talking to me!!!

And so I get all bitchy with my love. And Cranky McCranksterston hit town and was mean.

My dear, I apologize for being a Fussy McFussy Pants. And for talking all Meany McMeanster.

Forgive me please.

I will make Popcorn shrimp for dinner.

February 22, 2008

Taxi!

The call came.

I gathered my things, peeked out the window and saw nothing.

I turned off all the lights, double-checked to make sure the coffee pot was turned off. Turned off the A/C.

I tucked my coat under my arm, despite the 75 degree temps.

I stepped outside, looked left, looked right and there it was.

I do not remember a time when I felt so happy.

Taking a cab to the airport was a first for me. I have always had friends or family drop me off. Or I left my car in the parking garage.

This time however, I was being driven. However, the excitement wasn't for the cab ride, it was the purpose of the ride.

I was being driven to the airport where I would board a plane to a place where the coat was necessary.

To a place where I would box up all the remnants of our life in the Desert.

Where we would drive away from the Desert, for the last time, Together.

To our new home, in my our little apartment in Houston.

February 14, 2008

I Give You VD, Because I Love You

I work in an office. With a lot of chicks. Today being VD, there are flowers galore. When they are first delivered, we all oooohhhh-annnnddd—ahhhhhh. The girls figure out what lucky gal is receiving them and then pout because they still haven’t received their special bouquet.

And I gag.

My love has been banned from buying me anything today. Which, of course, is aided by the fact that he is a state away.

I hate VD. The forced love and affection. The forced gifting. The forced emotion.

If you love me, tell me, because OMG! IT! IS! THURSDAY! And I LOVE YOU!

If you are gonna give me a gift, give me a gift because OMG! IT IS SOMETHING YOU WILL LIKE! And I LOVE YOU!

Don’t do it because Hallmark makes you.

If you are a chick that wants VD celebrated. Fine. That is great. Make sure your man knows that you are a celebrator of VD.

Of course, you must celebrate 3/14 as well. (Here is another linky because the other one seems to be wonky.)

Tit for tat.

February 13, 2008

Free Book Download

Oprah.com is providing a free download of Suze Orman's book Women & Money through tomorrow night at 8 PM.

Suze is not my fave personal finance guru, as I am just not so touchy-feely in love emotionally with my finances, but she does offer great advice on some topics. I just don't want to make out with my cash. Or ask what it is thinking about. It won't respond. Money is more out of touch with its feeeeelings than a man.

Anyway, check it out. I am always looking to learn more about managing money, as one day, I want to take over the world, Pinky.

Thanks to My Open Wallet for the info.

February 11, 2008

House Guests

(Men - proceed at your own risk.)

In my Saturday post, I wrote, “Where is my crown?”

I meant where is the crown I deserve for being a super cheap-ass furniture finding mo-fo.

The crown that goes on your head because you are the shiz-nit.

Somewhere, in some really evil parallel universe, a gnome read that blog post.

That gnome, apparently had dental issues. I wanted to know where my princess-y crown was. The location of my dental crown was not in question.

There was no reason for that parallel universe gnome to up-seat my crown. Yet he did.

Hours after writing that fateful sentence, enjoying a piece of chewing gum, my crown dethroned itself. That evil gnome ruined the crown’s self-esteem causing it to fling itself out of its secure post.

Today I spent 4 hours at the dentist with my mouth stretched wider than a cheerleader on prom night.

With a wedge of cotton in my mouth to stop some bleeding, I begged for a potty break halfway through the torture.

And really…. It’s Monday. My head is being drilled. Was that anytime for my Aunt to stop by for a visit?

February 9, 2008

Provide (nce)

I have noted before how I am living a bit sparsely at this time. I also have mentioned before how I love estate sales, garage sales and thrift stores. I am Queen Frugalite Fianna. Where is my crown?

I have come across some rather fortuitous purchases recently. Things to make my life a bit easier without spending much money. One day, hopefully very soon, I will have a full house - man, cats and furniture. Until then, I am making do.

A few weeks ago, I visited the thrift store in my neighborhood. When I first walked in, I spied a chair that would be perfect for me, living alone for now, with cats. A chair that I could sit in, watch TV, read a book and that would transition perfectly to my foyer, where once I have a couch, I can lounge and read a good book:


Cost? $8.00. See the dejected camping chairs, yoga mat and wedge. I am living the high life, baby.

I didn't participate in the recent Bedside Fun Monday because it made me too depressed. I was severely lacking in the bedside table realm. Today, I went garage sale-ing and found a perfect bedside table.

It cost $5.00. While there are few scratches, it was a great deal and just the right thing at the right price. I got home, cleaned it up. I pulled out the drawer in order to clean it and found some papers in it.


See that $5.00 bill?

Overall price: $0.00.

February 6, 2008

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof

Kitten’s history has been documented quite well on this blog, hell, I should pull a Dooce and write her a letter each month for her to read when ….um… someone teaches cats to read, so she can learn how she was as a kitten.

Only problem being, every month it would read:

Dear Kitten: This month you continued to wake me each morning between 3:00 A.M. and 5:00 A.M. by licking my nose. I cannot wait until you grow out of this. You also continued to pick on Yoda, causing her to need Valium. I have removed all sharp objects from Yoda’s reach as she is rumored to have discussed “killing her some Kitten”. Otherwise, you were an absolute hellion delight. I hope you will forgive us one day for not coming up with a better name for you.

Love, Mama

Poor Kitten.

However, this day has surpassed all others in Kitten’s short life.

This day has surpassed all other days in my extended days as a cat owner.




Kitten has hit puberty.

I have never before seen a cat in heat.

God willing, I will never see it ever, ever, ever again.

I am traumatized.




It started last night. It may have started yesterday morning as soon as I locked the door in the morning, but since they are latch-key cats. I will never know.

When I got home, Kitten was quite vocal. She frequently will meow when she can’t figure out where I am because, oops, I left the room, it’s dark and with her crappy eyesight, she can’t figure out which way I went. I should have gotten the poor cat Lasik.

The other cats were hiding while I was making dinner, because when the stove is on, that usually means the smoke alarm is about to go off. So they hide at the bottom of my stairway, where the air will be clear. Kitten, however, was meowing up a storm. I would call her, yet she would just continue. I would go find her, and she would continue. I couldn’t get the cat to hush. Not even with a well placed, Cesar Millan approved, Tsscch!!

Then, the usual petting, resulting in a bit of raised rear, was intensified. Seriously intensified. By this morning, she was walking, constantly crouched down, anxiously awaiting her lover.




Poor, poor Cass.

Kitten chose Cass to be her de-virginizer.



The fighting that occurs nightly, was much louder than normal. And continued far past the usual time. It started around 2:30 A.M. and continued until nearly 4 A.M., when I finally locked Kitten in the back room. She howled for another hour or so until I let her out. She then continued to beg Cass to give it up until around 5:30, when she decided to turn her affections towards me. I tried to calm her and her howls down until at 6 A.M., I gave up, pulled my laptop onto the bed and started looking for a vet in my new neighborhood. And, of course, once I was fully awake, she promptly went to sleep. After keeping me awake from 2:30-6 A!M! ! ! !

When I got out of the shower, this morning, I was greeted by all 3 of the cats at the bathroom door. Kitten was offering her wares to both spayed, female cats. I took another shower, hoping to block that image from my mind. It didn’t work.

Here, Kitten was begging Cass for some loving:

No worries, Cass may have run this time, but she cannot resist the Kitten:

My entire morning was a scene from Brokeback Attic.

I am scarred.


Kitten is now in the clutches of her forever, one and only, Dr. Veterinarian, who promises to fix this love sick puppy for me.


Bob Barker was so right, please spay and neuter your pets. You do not want to witness what I have. Bleach to the eyes will not cure me.


**And before I get the comments, asking why it took me so long to get her fixed…I know I should have done it earlier. All my pets get spayed. This go round, however, I was a bit busy, what with the whole moving to another state, living in a hotel, sleeping on an air mattress, and related biz-ness.**

UPDATE: I just called to check how she is doing and was advised that all the appropriate parts were removed and that the testicles were added. Surgery was a success. Won't the other 2 eunichs at home be so happy!!

February 5, 2008

It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

With the state of the economy as it is, with the anticipation of living in a city I really like with the man I really love, with my finances not being wacko anymore, I am a house hunting crazy lady, not to be confused with my typical crazy cat lady self. More crazy, less fur.

I have watched HGTV for hours straight. All the house hunting, designing to sell, property virgin hoopla. I am in love. I want to buy property. I want a house. I want out of apartments.

And with the economy in turmoil, with foreclosures on the rise, I have been optimistic. Someone else's tragedy will be my fortune. I will be able to get a house, reasonably priced, and plant a garden and drink coffee on my back porch while reading a book. Mmmmm....I am getting excited thinking about it.

But then, I have to go and watch this.

And read this.

Sure, I can scold the culture that has created a negative savings rate and the idea of living off credit. However, this scared me.

Those that claimed to have been doing the right thing, had the savings in place, didn't overextend themselves. They are still in trouble.

Goes to show you...you can never be too prepared, have too much saved up, have too much insurance.

I am still searching for that wrap-around porch though, dammit. I will just have to buy it with cash.

(Links courtesy of Boston Gal.)

February 3, 2008

Fun Monday - Bucket List

Tiggerlane is hosting Fun Monday this week, asking that we post at least 5 items on our personal Bucket List. Things we want to accomplish by the time we kick the bucket. I have crafted a few of these over the years, however, to my knowledge, none of the lists survived.

The list is sure to have evolved over the years. Today, I simply typed up the first things that came to mind, cooked dinner, watched a great halftime show, all the time thinking of other things to add to the list. Yet, it seems that the first grouping of items is what I really really really want to accomplish. The things that seem to simply roll out of me, not requiring any further thinking.

So... here are the the absolute top items on my Bucket List:

  1. Marry my best friend.

  2. Take an Alaskan cruise.

  3. Sit on my wrap-around front porch, watching my 3.2 kids play in the yard.

  4. Visit Europe, Brazil, Australia and Canada.

  5. Volunteer on Thanksgiving.

  6. Send my parents on their dream vacation.

  7. Own another ‘67 Mustang.

I am sure if I spent more time working on this, I could come up with 100 items. However, these are my absolute top priorities. I love this topic. I can't wait to see yours!

 
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