It's funny - because it's true!

I'm one of THOSE bloggers

Yes - I am officially one of those bloggers who only blogs every second full moon. I feel like I have a good excuse, a number actually. 1 - my life is really too boring to blog about. It is sad, but true, unless you really want to read about that time I jacked up my leg on an inflate-a-slide, my life holds no real excitement. 2 - work is crazy busy! My job is insanely busy right now and I am feeling a little scattered. I was asked me the other day if I was dyslexic and I was all "um, no" and they were all "are you sure?" I just have brain fuzz, brain fuzz happens when too much stuff is all swimming around in your head. 3 - GRAD SCHOOL IS A LOT OF WORK! Holy cheese, I have assignment on top of assignment and I think I am developing an ulcer with all the worrying I am doing about how I am going to accomplish everything. And yes, I know I started with saying my life is boring, but seriously - work and school is all I do. Does that seem at all exciting? Yeah, didn't think so.

School!

So I started my graduate program in Library Science and I am hoping that it is a better fit than English. People have been telling me that I am too much of a spaz to be a librarian, but I think that the world needs more spazy librarians. My enthusiasm can get people excited about books or cause them the scream in horror at the sight of a library for fear that I am in there.

In other news, my cute Squidgy is still visiting and we have become very close. We watch Imagination Movers together (I have a thing for Rich) and I make her laugh so hard she barfs and then my sister yells at me, "You Made Her Barf!!!!!!" And then we barf/laugh some more. Good times.

Lots o' Stuff

Lots of stuff has been going on in Ferrataland lately. I am frantically preparing for grad school (I HAVE STRESS PEOPLE!). I am trying to keep up with my cute Squidgy - she has taken to peeing on the floor, while it is less disgusting than her previous habit of poo art, it still is unpleasant to clean up after. She is also channeling Jackson Pollock on our walls and her medium is chocolate milk. She also managed to flash my bits to a group of older gentlemen at a pool as well as at a local eatery. THANKS SQUIDGY! More updates will be forthcoming.

My bad

So my previous blog is an example of why you should never blog when emotional. Oy! Anyhoo I think I just squished a brown recluse but upon doing some research I think it was a wolf spider instead and if that is the case I feel bad because I don't like to kill things that will not make my flesh shrivel up and die.

Updates

So I put an offer on another house and didn't get it because housing prices are still way too inflated and sellers don't realize it. I am really ticked about this and could write a long expletive-filled rant but I won't I am just going to go cry into some ice cream. In other news I got into grad school so it isn't all crap.

Some Advice

Some advice for home sellers - spraying A TON of pine-scented air freshener does not cover up the fact that your pet peed ALL OVER THE CARPET - it just makes it smell like your cat/dog peed under a tree.

Still Looking

So they didn't accept my offer. I offered the max I could go but it just wasn't enough. I'll just keep looking. In other news, my super cute Squidgy is in town.

This is really sort of happening!

I made an offer on a house! Wish me luck! Excessive use of exclamation points!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"As if you could out dance me"

Hee Hee

House hunting from hell

So I have looked at quite a few houses and I have decided that houses in my price range are in my price range because the hell mouth just regurgitated them. YUM! I am realizing that I can buy an okay house in an neighborhood that contains 90% of my town’s sex offenders or I can buy the housing equivalent of a giant turd in a neighborhood I would feel comfortable walking my future dog in. I have decided to go with the giant turd. I can live with giant turd for the time being – as long as it doesn’t smell like a giant turd, or a giant stinky bum, or sun-dried cat urine, or that Seinfeld b.o., or my nephew’s feet. I’m not picky at all.

I can still smell the cat urine

So I've been looking into buying a house. What's that you say? You thought I was going to live my parents forever. That is still a possibility until the papers are signed. Anyway, I started looking at properties yesterday and can I just say that I now know why you can sometimes find cheap homes in nice neighborhoods, two words - cat urine.

The first house I looked at did not involve cat urine, just lots of duck tape, a bouncy floor (is a floor supposed to do that?) and bedrooms the size of most closets. On the upside, the vintage tile on the bathroom floor was awesome as were the strange submarine lights on either side of the vanity.

The second house may have had something living in the basement, but both the realtor and I were too scared to venture beyond the disaster area that once passed for a kitchen. By the by if you are looking for the number for a Keith in Vegas - I can hook you up - it made for some nice graffiti.

The last house welcomed us with the overpowering smell of sun-baked cat urine. I had to cover my face or I would have yakked. The carpet had caked in urine spots all over it. I should have taken pictures because I am sure they would have rivaled the carpet from a picture I found while real estate surfing of what looked like a crime scene. BIG GIANT GLOBS OF YELLOW! In the bathroom, the tub decided that it would not be outdone by litter box carpet and had an almost black residue that I didn't take a closer look at because I am sure it was alive. I didn't pay much attention to the kitchen because I was running away from the tub. The basement had fewer carpet stains and a sloping, varying height ceiling. You would always have to be on your guard or you would come face to face with low hanging cement slab. Fun for April Fools but rather unnecessary the rest of the year.

Needless to say I am going to keep looking. The first house was really in the best shape out of the bunch, but it was way to small to hold all my shizz.

More car stuff

So the ashtray car was kind of making me sick. I called today and received a replacement, an SUV replacement which is the universe's way of telling me to hoard more stuff. I was always limited to what I could fit in the puff, but now I can go for whatever will fit in the big ass trunk. YEAH! I am so hitting up the thrift stores and garage sales this weekend.

In other news, I am apply to a new graduate program. Here is hoping I am accepted. If you are wondering what happened with the English program - loved the reading, loved the lectures, had issues with writing and obviously grammer. It is sad how little I know about our friend the comma.

More car stuff

So my car is in the shop getting a new bumper and I am driving a rental. When I pick up the rental they inform me that smoking is not allowed in the rental. I tell them that I don't smoke so it is not an issue. They then give me the keys to what is essentially an ashtray with wheels. I'm thinking the no smoking thing was put into effect yesterday.

Really!?! That just happened again!

So I was rear-ended this weekend - IN MY NEW AWESOME PUFF. Seriously people, the three second rule is there for a reason. The passenger side of my bumper is GONE and I think my muffler is damaged. UGH! I am grouchy now.

Love It!

Gives me warm fuzzies

So this weekend my sister and I took the nephews to the local model train show. Usually the boys love the train show and are excited, but this year, Hosh was having none of it. He was SO GRUMPY. It was as if he was denied cheese for a week. I felt bad so I went up to him and said, "I love you Hoshie." To which he screeched back, "I LOVE YOU TOO." If I had to go by tone alone, I'm pretty sure I just received a kick to the shin.

Adventures with my cabana boy

So today my friend, who I lovingly refer to as my cabana boy, and I went to see Watchmen. I feel a little bad for my friend because he wasn't familiar with the graphic novel so I don't think he really enjoyed it. We did get a chuckle out of Dr. Manhattan and his lack of clothes. However, we totally lost it during the movie when about an hour in we hear this noise. I immediately think, "who wore shorts and is sitting in a vinyl chair?" Then I realize that the theater is all cloth seating and then it hits me that yeah, someone farted - LOUD. I look at my cabana boy and he is busting up and I immediately start laughing too, but he gets this mortified look on his face because my laughing it makes it look like he was the one flapping his cheeks. Unfortunately, by then I can stop laughing, I am in fact snort laughing. It took forever for me to finally compose myself and by that time whoever dealt it let another one rip. It made for quite the entertaining experience. Oh and I enjoyed the movie too, except for the ending, they screwed with it.

He is so angry because his giant brain hurts his head

So my cute, angry Hoshie is brilliant. Which we all knew, but a national standardized test just confirmed it for the rest of humanity. Hosh scored in the top tenth percentile in the nation in some test they give kids to arbitrarily compare them against each other. I am not a fan of standardized testing, what with built in biases and such, but I am a huge fan of my Hoshie and his giant angry brain.

In other news, my new turntable/LP converter arrived yesterday and I have been creating digital versions of my beloved albums. I now have Leonard Nimoy singing “Proud Mary” on my iPod.

I almost died!

So I've been listening to David Sedaris read his latest book at night. I keep hoping that, through some kind of osmosis, I will wake up funnier. Hasn't really worked that much so far. I still only get unintentional laughs like when my thumb udders faced the wrong direction and I was told that gravity will not allow you to milk up. It was all part of a milking demonstration in case you were thinking something sick - you perv! Anyhoo, I'm listening to David Sedaris with my headphones on and I fall asleep only to wake up a few hours later, barely able to breath because the frakin cord is wrapped around my neck! Totally freaked me out! Like that time I ate some really old granola. I could have died! I would like to say that I learned my lesson, but no, I don't have the restraint to learn lessons or figure out that udders normally face towards the ground not the sky, because then it would be like a milk fountain and that would be AWESOME!

New Name - New Title

So along with changing my name I am giving myself an arbitrary title - Dean of Awesomeness or Dean of the College of Awesomeness if you want to be formal. What do you think of my new business card?

It is a perfectly respectable name

So my friend recently got married and while she was considering what to change her name to, she ran by me the option of adding a middle initial, just a middle initial, it would not stand for anything. She said it in kind of a joking way and I didn’t think it would happen, but come this week it was official – she now has a J in her name which is why she is my friend, because she is awesome and adds the letter J to her name for no other reason than she wants it there. It got me thinking about if I changed my name, what I would change it to? All of the sudden the name popped into my head – are you ready – brace yourself – WILDEBEEST D. HUNTLEY. It is the most awesome name ever! My cabana boy and I decided that I could be called Wilde or W.D. for short and I would save the full effect for something special like getting married. “Do you Kevin Spacey take Wildebeest D. Huntley to be your lawfully wedded wife?” I like the sound of that.

My Puff is Having Issues

So my new car, "The Puff," is having issues. Someone manhandled it (not me, I use my words to hurt things) and so it needed a new oil pan. I took it to my usual mechanic and I found out that - YAY! - they have a loaner car so I wouldn't be stuck trying to find a ride to and from the mechanic, to and from work, to and from the cheese factory, and to and from Hoshie's anger management class.

So I drop off my car and the mechanic hands me the key and says, "it's the green one." I walk outside and I am confronted with what I lovingly started referring to as "The Troll." This car was the most hideous shade of green with an interior that looked like a science experiment (I'm sure I contracted some kind of butt fungus from sitting in it) and a dashboard that is held on by duct tape. It also had a HUGE magnetic sign on the side that said, "Free loaner car," which technically it wasn't because they keep that thing on empty so you must put gas in it to drive it. I didn't want to feed it, it might follow me home!

I was so glad to get my puff back, I literally kissed it. I think that is the genius of "The Troll." It makes you look forward to forking out money to get your car back.

Holidays and the Stomach Flu

So the holidays were busy what with hanging out with Squidgy and getting the stomach flu. Some things of note: my nephew once again impressed with his ability to HATE EVERY GIFT HE WAS GIVEN - I'm giving him coal next year and he can just suck it. My niece gave me relationship advice which I ignored because I am older and wiser and 90% of her boyfriends have had altercations with the law. Squidgy learned that classic holiday lesson that the cat does not like to be squeezed. Hoshie demonstrated that he could live on nothing but holiday spirit as he was so exited for presents we could not get him to eat for two days. And finally - Squidgy learned the wrong way to shave her legs.