Is this thing on?
Okay - it's been a long time. I burnt out on my challenge but I did manage to accomplish some postings, so I guess that's better than nothing.
That being said: I'm starting up. Not with another challenge, but with some postings again.
On that note: can anyone explain my tupperware? Not just tupperware, but all matter of containers and, more importantly, lids.
We have tupperware, pyrex, glad take-a-ways (oddly enough, still here) plus other more numerous to name. What's odd is that we appear to have equal number of containers and lids, yet only about 1/4 of the whole match together in sets?
Where did all the rest go?
It's very frustrating at the end of meals when I want to save leftovers but can never find a matching set.
I have many thoughts in my head.
Okay - I have only a few, but of those thoughts, some are ... strange.
As I watch more and more Disney, I begin to wonder what's the horrible problem with the hands of Disney characters.
I noticed that all the main characters wear gloves ALL THE TIME!!! What's wrong with their hands that they refuse to show them, even for a moment? Is it taboo in the world of Disney or something more sinister?
My crackpot theory du jour: if we see their hands we'll be shocked to discover how human like they are. Seeing these human hands on anthropomorphisized will start to raise questions of the genetic purity of such family sweethearts as Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck. I suspect some sort of "Island of Dr. Moreau" situation that has long been covered up.
Yes - this is how my mind works.
Now I need to figure out why Daisy Duck wears clothes to cover her nether regions yet Donald does not. Perhaps something he picked up in the Navy?
Well, as all my faithful readers know, I failed my personal challenge.
I don't really know what happened, but it just got away from me. It just seemed like I never was able to find the time until way into the wee hours of the night. But, by that time, sleep seemed like a much more interesting prospect as opposed to blathering to the ether.
Still, I feel bad that I let things lapse and will continue to post more often. At least, more often than lately, but not up to my original 365 day standard.
I guess the trick will be to remember some of the strange thoughts that percolate in my head and write them out here, rather than bugging people I see in real life with them.
Shockingly enough, though, it's late and I don't feel like relating anything interesting right now.
Stay tuned for horrific insights into what passes for my brain.
Tonight I get one less hour of sleep.
This wouldn't normally bother me except that we're not only planning on going to church but Denise is having a Mary Kay team meeting at the house later that day.
So, I have a big day ahead of me with little sleep to run it on.
Wish me luck.
I once knew someone who was fanatical about closing the fridge.
They were almost physically unable to walk away from the fridge without closing it. Their reaction to other people doing so was uncanny. They began to look concerned if they saw it happen. They might even mention something to the effect of, "you should really close the fridge."
If you didn't, they concern would grow to worry and, eventually, a near panic.
They were once saw distraught with me for opening the fridge for a drink, forgetting the glass and leaving the fridge open to get it, that they had to dash in and close it.
It's not like they're into energy conservation, either. I've seen them leave multiple lights on in rooms that they weren't in and leave the TV on for hours on end, while listening to music on headphones.
It was just something about the fridge.
I began to have strange thoughts of what bizarre tortures their parents inflicted upon them involving the fridge door. Thoughts ranging from having one's hand slammed in it to being forced into the fridge oneself.
Well, I missed a day or two here and there and don't know quite where I am right now. This means that by the time I reach the 365th day, it will likely be more than a year after Day 1.
Hey, at least I'm "out there," blogging away in the real world or the virtual world - I get the two confused a lot.
So, I had a great interview, but now I'm waiting to hear from them. Hopefully, I'll get some decision tomorrow before their two week break. I'm hopeful, but also know how fast academics can move sometimes.
If I don't get the job, hopefully, I'll get my tax forms soon (saw the accountant last weekend) so we can submit them. Due to an error on a retirement fund disbursement, we're getting a very fat return - at least enough to keep us going for a while longer.
I can't wait for things to settle down a bit so I can stop worrying and learn to love the bomb ... err ... I mean, my family.
'Tis a strange, strange love, indeed, pardon the pun.
Not really knowing what the plan was today, we starting things slow. Sure, the fact that Max got up late helped with that, but I think it was in the cards anyway.
The only notion we had was that I'd take Max to the library today to get some new books and perhaps a Thomas the Tank Engine video or two and Denise would stay home and make calls for her Mary Kay business.
Instead, what happened, was a friend of ours (and her MK Director) called us up and wanted to know if we'd like to meet her and her daughter (Max's best friend, Marea) at the big McDonald's at Jefferson in the awesome playspace there.
We got there around 12:45 and wound up staying there until around 5:30! Most of the time, Max and Marea were running around having fun while we three adults talked. When it wasn't the three of us, Denise and Margaret were speaking MK and I was on the laptop doing some job hunting.
A wonderful turning point came when, after leaving a message for one of my recruiters, I got the call back that I got an interview for a job I found.
It's a Director of IT position for a private high school a few towns over. It's a perfect job for me - more money, smaller commute in a small, academic setting.
I'm very excited.
It was hard to get the interview since they thought I was over qualified (read: they thoughts I'd leave when something better came along). After several long talks with my recruiter as to how to package me, I now have the aforementioned interview.
Man, I feel a real good vibe about this - it's all going to come up roses!
We have a cat - her name is Karma.
Denise rescued this cat as a kitten and she was always near and dear to us.
Around the time Max was born, she starting thinking outside the box, so to speak. At first, it was sporadic bits here and there (mostly, on my side of the bedroom, thank you very much) but still with her using her litter box.
It got worse.
It got to the point where she would pee in the basement everywhere but her litter box (in addition to the forays upstairs in the kitchen, dining room, living room, bathroom, hallway and bedroom. Oddly enough, the only place she didn't pee in was Max's room.
We finally reached the breaking point and made her an outside cat.
This worked well, but suddenly, every other neighborhood cat and raccoon decided to hang out and eat her food.
So she yowled all night because she had no food.
Then it got cold and she yowled, so we moved her food into the garage.
At this point, we got her a litter box again so she wouldn't stink up the garage any more than she already had.
Of course, she'll use the litter box in the garage.
Now, every other cat has found a way into our garage to eat her food, drink her water and use her little box.
And trash the garage.
Now, my garage has cat feces scattered on the floor. Often, anything that is in there is knocked onto the floor and it's a royal mess that I can't keep on top of.
I'm nearing the end of my rope but don't know what to do.
We'd be willing to give her away, but we can't find anyplace that will take her and not kill her.
It's just another level of bullshit that I don't have the time, money or energy to deal with.
As of this time, my basement still has the stink of cat urine and my garage is almost unusable. Frankly, I can't wait until it warms up so I can smell how bad it really is. I don't think we'll ever be able to store anything porous there ever again.
I don't know what the fuck to do.