"Wow, rednecks sure do like Dave Matthews Band."

This is not, I repeat, NOT, the Dave Matthews Band fire dancer. And anyone who thinks that, is an idiot.

Yours truly,
The Idiot

The Great Blog Catch Up!

February 2011 is the last time I blogged? Jeebus. I suck at this.

So, here goes, the great blog catch up! And in bullet point form no less!

• I moved out! (Now I remember why I hated apartment life.)
• I got a job! (Like a real one where you have to go to the office every day.)
• I lost my sweet GeorgeCooper. (This was effing sad, y'all.)
• I got a girlfriend! (Who says you can't date your ex-wife?)
• I went to Chicago. (Love me some windy city!)
• I got a new kitty! (Truman is a loveable hot mess.)

Ok, you're caught up!

See you again in 7 months!

Bye Bye, Peeps

My Peeps in her younger days.

Bittersweet news: Little Girl (aka LG, Peeps, Peepers) went to live with her other mother this week.  Chris and I got Peeps in October 2000 as a companion to Jack...and we have spent the last 10 years apologizing to her for that decision.  Peeps should have always been an only cat.  She is a sweet little girl...hence the name...very prim and proper, even if a little bit skiddish.  Jack picked on her a bit, but things took a turn for the worst when we got GeorgeCooper.  Yes, I am admitting that my precious Coopy can be a bit of a bully.  He is flexing his second in command muscle and chases her around a bit.  Peeps has taken to barracading herself in the office and only coming out when Coopy is fast asleep.  No way of life for a lady!

Like I said, it's pretty bittersweet because I love my babies, but I know this is the best for her.  And Chris and Abba (our pup) are super excited about her being there.  There is a nice half moon window so that Peeps can chase the leaves, and she won't have to fight these boys for the love and attention she deserves.

I miss her.  <3

Flooded Crawl Space aka Saturday

I'm an expert in crawl space flooding. Can you tell?

 

That's a lotta watta.

 

Almost up to my golashes.



See that? That's my funace. Yep, no heat.



See that? That's my water heater. Yep, no hot water!

 

A little magic and voila! The sump, she pumps!



Water's gone. Now, just a muddy mess.

Jack judging me as we huddle in front of the space heater.



Just call me Bo Duke

Time for an update!

• Christmas - Ho, ho, ho. Check.
• New Year's - Auld Lang Syne and all that crap. Wasn't drunk enough. Check, check.
• Snowmageddon, Snowpocalypse, A-town up, Snow plows down. - Check, check, check.
• Job - Underqualified, overqualified. Make up your mind. Mama needs a check.

My New Year's resolution to only have Starbucks on weekends lasted all of...well, it never happened.  Even during Snow-lapalooza, I only lasted 2 days without Starbucks. I broke out on Day 3, braving hazardous conditions in order to get my caffeine fix.  True to form for me, I had a little incident whilst getting my Starbucks on Day 5 (Friday).  Most of the ice had melted, except for decent size patch of icy slush in my driveway.  I hopped into my Jeep, started backing out and immediately got stuck. In my driveway.  My back tires were sitting squarely on a precariously placed glacier.

Spin, spin, spin.

I pulled forward and backwards, turning the wheel searching for the smallest bit of pavement.


Spin, spin, spin.

I get out, grab a shovel and try to break the ice up behind my back tires enough to gain traction. 

Spin, spin, spin. 

Do I give up?  Hells no!  Did I mention this was Starbucks?  I start to think that if I turn the wheel hard left, I could go into the yard, off the curb and onto the street. Sure there is a little snow on the grass, but as we all know, snow is not the problem, ice is.  So I cut the wheel hard and give it some gas...SUCCESS!  I'm in the yard! Off road, even!  But then, the familiar...

Spin, spin, spin. 

I'm stuck. IN. THE. YARD.  The wet snow + wet leaves underneath = "bitch, please, you need to call AAA."  But do I give up?  HELLS NO!  DID I MENTION THIS WAS STARBUCKS??? 

So, a little more spin, spin, spinning, and I feel the tires begin to grab the surface.  AHA!  I adjust my grip on the steering wheel, set my jaw, lovingly pat the dashboard, yell, "Here we go, baby!" and hit the gas.

What happens next I can only describe as a Dukes of Hazzard moment.  The engine revs, the back end fish-tails, and as I look in the rearview mirror, clumps of snow, wet leaves, and mud fly from my tires, and spray the side of my house.  But, my Jeep, she catches, and I launch out onto the road with a YEE-HAAAAAAAW!

I got a venti, y'all, and it was so worth it.