Wednesday, May 31, 2006

Oh, and by the way…

Eleven days between posts?? Man, I suck at this. It’s not that I haven’t had anything to say. I think I’m reluctant to post about stuff that isn’t funny or flippant. Like the teaming masses who flock to my blog several times a day will be upset with me if I’m not clever and cute all the time. Snort. I will work on getting over that.

Ok, I’ll start with this little slice of my headspace. (Thanks V for that exceptional phrase.)

WTF is up with this? So, yesterday, I came home during the day to get some things I needed to take to my office. And when I walked in the door my various faculties told me that things were not right in the dog/carpet arena. If you know what I mean. Poor thing, she got sick. It wasn’t her fault. But, I couldn’t take any chances, so I put her outside for the rest of the afternoon.

I’ve been really wanting for my dog to become an outside-during-the-day dog since we moved to this house with a fence. And now that the weather is nice, I thought that maybe this would be the perfect opportunity to make the transition. So this morning I put her out there again. I was nervous, because she has been a bit neurotic since the move, but she seemed o.k. When I got home, I saw two neighbors outside – and I know these guys are home during the day – so I asked them how she did. The report was that she whined and barked quite a bit, but they understood and wanted to know if there was anything they could do to help. Etc. One neighbor even thanked me for asking him.

Then I saw a note on my front door. It is an anonymous note mind you. (I should mention that I detest spinelessness. Detest it.) The note is all about how my dog barks ALL THE TIME and they have been nice about it for long enough. Um, helloooo….DRAMA QUEEN. The dog has been outside alone for a grand total of 9 hours. Three hours yesterday, six today. I am certain that she was annoying, but come on. All the time? You’ve been nice about it for long enough? Your nice meter runs out after a day and a half?

And by the way jackass, I know who you are. You are the only people around here who had to address the note “Dear Neighbors” because you are the only people around here who haven’t been friendly enough to so much as look at us, much less introduce yourselves and make nice. We get it. You’re pricks. Thanks for being so understanding. The other people on the block have offered to let the dog come over for play dates and take her for walks to help the situation. But you know, your arsenic in the kibble idea would do the trick too.

Just so you know, I will keep my dog inside because it’s the right thing to do. But it won’t help your bad Karma.

I’m Calling In Happy

So, I am officially between jobs. It won’t be for long, because I’m supposed to start my new job tomorrow. But I’m calling in happy. I’ll start Monday.

My new boss (me) and my new business partner (my husband) both agree that I should get at least one day off to think about what I’ve done.

Oh. My. God. What have I done?


Saturday, May 20, 2006

This Car Brakes for Yard Sales!

Is there anything better than a yard sale? I mean, from an Anthropological viewpoint. Personally, I heart them. Especially when 1) it is my yard sale, and 2) when I don’t care one bit if I make any money.

I had a yard sale today that fit those two criteria, and lemme tell you, it was a hoot. (That’s yard sale lingo.) We moved to Wisteria Lane last fall, and despite several thousand trips to the nearest St. Vinnies, I still have a three car garage that barely fits one smallish SUV. I was just about to do another purge for the less fortunate, when I got a flier from my homeowners’ association.

Neighborhood Sale.

I think I may have peed a little. Have I mentioned that I freaking L.O.V.E. yard sales? So despite contracting what has be the first case of Bird SARS on Wisteria Lane, I drug my sorry ass out of bed on Monday and made my pile o’ stuff. It wasn’t a huge pile, but there were some choice items. Last night I priced everything, and this morning at o’dark thirty I was out in the driveway, sharpie in hand, putting the finishing touches on my salute to capitalism.

It was fabulous. The first person who drove up asked me a bunch of really, really stupid questions. I’m one of those people who takes things to be “signs” so I was sort of rattled. But the very next person who pulled up was clearly a yard sale veteran. She didn’t buy a thing, but she did stop and say, “Your prices are good. Real good.” Sweet effin’ victory. Within a half hour I’d sold a television set for $20, some Pottery Barn-esque shelving (that my husband banished from the new house after we had to patch the wall in our old house twice because of them) for $15. And some plastic bowling pins for twenty-five cents.

By noon, the designated end of the neighborhood sale, I made $115. AND GOT RID OF ALL THAT CRAP. I mean, isn’t it amazing that people will give you money to haul off the junk that you were almost too embarrassed to put out? I even sold some stuff that the former owner of my house left in the garage like an inconsiderate SOB. (So, take that sucka. I made seventy-five cents off your inconsiderate ass today.) There were actually several times when I had to bite my tongue so as not to say to a customer, “I can’t BE-LEEEEEEVE you’re going to give me a dollar for that. Seriously.”

Anyhooo, (more lingo) I sold every dingle dangle thing that I had been hoping to get rid of. And, I got to do some excellent people watching while hanging out with Sweet Pea on a gorgeous, sunny Saturday morning. Plus, you know, you kinda feel like you did a good thing when you sell your mountain bike that you hate to a college student desperate for a mode of transportation.

And, I got two really cool early American planters and a metal picnic basket from my neighbor. Just keeping the wheel in motion.


Friday, May 19, 2006

I get it now.

Why there are so many mommy and daddy blogs out there.

I used to think that it was because there were a lot of people who were truly just that enamored with their kids. Or finding camaraderie in sharing stories about the toughest job there is.


I get it now.

There’s nothing else to talk about. Seriously. You can’t talk about work, because inevitably we all want to just go off about how batchit crazy our coworkers are, how poorly we’re treated, how inefficient our companies are, how underpaid we are, how overpaid they are, et cetera. But we can’t do that. Because – duh – we need that crappy job so we can eat. We like to eat.

We’re smart enough not to talk about our relationships online. Ok, well, SOME of us are smart enough. Don’t even get me started on that one. But, I for one, am smart enough not to vent about the people who love and support me in a forum that they can read. I mean really, who DOES that? (Which is not to say that I have that much to vent about. But if we’re being honest here, it’s way more interesting to read about how someone done you wrong than how much you love and value the support of your Ya Ya Sisterhood. Daytime TV – case in point.)

So what’s left?

Gardening? Woo. Your freakish obsession with your motorcycle? Umm…works for some I guess. Star Trek? (Now I’m tempted to search that and see how completely blown away I am by the vast numbers of Trekkie blogs. )

Anyway, my point is, that’s why there are so many fun and entertaining blogs out there about kids and parenting. You can totally share that stuff without having to worry about copyright, non-disclosure, bad breakups, etc.

And kids are kind of funny and interesting. So, I guess you can sign me up. I see that being a recurring theme here. Much more riveting than making a daily list of what I’m wearing and what I ate for lunch. She really is the smartest, funniest, fascinating kid alive. Sometimes I want to brag about her endlessly. Sometimes I want to trade her in for Jimmy Choos. So I can about guarantee that the life and times of Sweet Pea will feature prominently.

I might talk politics. But not much.

I have a plan to dig out an old journal from high school and post snippets from that. And another plan to tell tales about my glamorous life as a soon to be self employed person.

And I will probably write in a mortified tone about my newest obsession/hobby – scrapbooking. Which, hello, goes right back to the kid thing. I was never tempted to glue ribbon and glitter to pages of expensive designer paper pre-baby. It’s like I’ve gone LDS or something. OMG, the other day while I was home sick, I actually watched a 30 minutes scrapbooking show on DIY. I can’t even tell you what that did to my psyche.

But I digress. This was to be my intro. The first ink on the blank pages of a new journal. Only instead of hiding this tome under decorative liner of my underwear drawer (who did I think I was fooling with that anyway?), I’m putting it out onto the Interweb.