mrtl

Extremes of Patience

Traffic on our way home was stopped the other day by a woman who was hovering over a box turtle as it made its way across the road. Drivers were honking, with some pulling onto the shoulder to pass those stopped. When we pulled up to the "car parade" (as the girls call backups), the turtle was very close to the side of the road. Its guardian crouched and shifted back and forth, arms and legs spread as a linebacker, eyes darting to the cars, ensuring none dared hinder her self-appointed objective.

One driver was overwhelmed by his annoyance at the delay. He was waiting to turn left onto an already congested road, but the backup completely halted his progress since the good samaritan's vehicle at the time was holding up traffic in that direction. The man's agitation was apparent from several carlengths away. He flung open his door, marched purposely to the turtle, leaned over, and picked it up. As he straightened, he spun and hurled it like a discus towards a drainage ditch. His skills were as shitty as his compassion; the turtle hit the pavement for several spins before rolling onto the grassy shoulder.

As traffic started moving again, there was a brief exchange between the man and woman. He was marching back to his car to wait to turn left some more as she advanced towards him hollering; his response was short, dismissively tossed over his shoulder without eye contact.

Why didn't she just pick up the turtle and put him in the grass? Why did he have to brutalize an animal to make his point to her? Did he go home feeling like a better human for this?

Reality Check: The Meddlers Aren't the Kids

Now that my children are getting older, the sugary sweet cartoons on Noggin (forever Noggin - I won't call it "Nick Jr.") are no longer their go-to's. It's a shame, because I always hoped they'd get into "Yo Gabba Gabba," and I'll admit that I kind of miss "Wow Wow Wubbzy." I am not ashamed to say I miss Moose A. Moose, mostly because the man behind the voice is dreamy.

Sing to me, Paul Christie!

Exploring other channels, the girls now have some new favorites. I'm not very fond of "Power Rangers," although it is cute that Jem has our family's first imaginary friend in Mia. She ate dinner with us the other night, eating a cream cheese burrito. I won't judge you, Mia. "Courage the Cowardly Dog" is one I can handle; I suspect the writers are on drugs, but that may help the kids' creativity. It's really been wonderful to see the girls learn to appreciate the shows I loved so much as a kid. "Tom and Jerry" especially gets me to sit down and watch with them.

Then there's "Scooby Doo," which has turned into a total crap shoot. DirecTV provides a lot of filtering options for managing recordings, but it's not specific enough to select only shows taped prior to 1979 or otherwise without that obnoxious little fucker Scrappy Doo. Where's the "Jump the Shark" filter, DirecTV?? You fail me.

The first ten years of this show were magic. Then the producers had to go and mess with the formula by bringing in Scrappy Doo, whose voice along makes me start to dry heave. Then they had to go and reinvent all the characters' personalities so much that they're not recognizable anymore. Daphne and Velma are ridiculously swoony over Fred and Shaggy. Fred's not respectable at all, more flake than flare. Shaggy and Scooby are the biggest disappointments. At some point Shaggy stopped being such a stoner, being more of an average guy. Scooby has moved much more to the background in focusing on the crushes between the human characters. He's so neglected it's no wonder he hardly eats anymore; in the newer shows I haven't seen nor heard mention of Scooby Snacks. Scooby Dooby Doo, where the fuck are you?

Random Fact Found on Wikipedia: Mindy Cohn currently voices Velma. I loved me some "Facts of Life," but that alone isn't cutting it for turning my ire around.

Attentiveness to Detail FAIL

Update: Thrilling news! I SUCK AT GAUGE! Not that that's news. Anyway, when I stuffed those A-puppies, they're closer to a C/D than an A. The bigger ones may be too big. I'll still make a set, in case she wants to get her Dolly Parton on. Woot!

~~~

While knitting some tits for my friend who currently has none and is waiting ever-so-patiently to get some (not that kind of "some"), I realized why my first attempt rendered one that is horrendously disproportionate to the other. No problem here... got new pieces knit up and ready for stuffing.

But then... I discover my error. The pair I've almost finished are A-cups, not D. Of course she's going to want the three inches. DON'T ALL WOMEN WANT THREE MORE INCHES?!

I think I'll send the A's ahead while I get the D's knockered out.

What's the lesson learned here? Keep your titties ready.

Left or Straight?

That's right. Four hours and I'm back. I'm indulging myself during my multitasked laziness to wander a wonder. I'm also watching "American Idol," so it's a trifecta of lazy productivity. I'm feeling better already.

The dilemma: Two men are looking at imminent prison sentences (one framed, one guilty). They are driving together and stopped at a red light. Going straight will take them where they are supposed to be to address the charges against them. Going left will take them to Mexico. Which way do they go?

There's no answer. No conclusion. No closure. I can't stand cliffhangers, but "Terriers" isn't coming back, so we're all left to hang there and wonder. The storyline was all set up to ready us for the second season, which made it that much worse. All the curiosity and anticipation are shot, knowing that this is it. WHICH WAY DO THEY GO, damnit?! What happens with all the other subplots?

::tangent to vent just a little::
Television shows like this are doomed in our culture. The cast is excellent, the writing spectacular (props to whoever came up with the play on "I Love You for Sentimental Reasons" -- I digs me some naughty songs).

I'm getting tired of networks limiting us to medical dramas (need something "new"? let's make them doctors without borders!), who's-the-next-best-[blankety blank] talent shows, and yet another spin from CSI or Law and Order (is there another NCIS now? I don't pay attention to the crap anymore). Thank goodness for "Modern Family." If that gets cancelled to make room for another insipid drama or reality show I will cut someone.

::tangent to remove realistic threat of cutting someone::
Not to Palin myself if such a horrid thing should occur, I want it on record that I'm more likely to find a non-violent way of cutting someone. "Original Gangstaz" may be a place to start, but since that wasn't particularly fulfilling when work drove me insane last year, and I enjoy killing people by kicking them in the nuts so much, I think it'd be more suitable to get my hands dirty.

Ooooh! Crafts! I could make a victim out of food and then cut it. Like a Mr. Hotdog Man with spaghetti and various vegetables poked through him all voodoo style to make his arms, legs, hair, and all. Granted, he'd be all floppy after boiling, but it's workable; he won't be able to stand. Dousing him with ketchup will enhance the effect. I shall name him Jay, not that I'd want to imply killing Ed O'Neill, but because Sofia Vergara never fails to crack me up when she "YAYs!" at him, and I certainly want to take pleasure in cutting someone. "Yay! What's wrong?" "Yay! Why's your leg so noodly?" "Yay! Why you not answer me?" "Yay! Who cut you?" "YAY!" "YAY!!! You're dead!!"

Of course, I'd then want to eat Jay, since he'd be so yummy looking, all cut up and ready to go. Would that ruin the imagery? Make me look like a cannibal? Oh my head. Let's hope this doesn't happen anytime soon so I can more carefully figure out the plan.
::end tangent to remove realistic threat of cutting someone::

Where was I? The levity helped. The vent may end now.
::end tangent to vent just a little::

::new tangent to note and address input from the peanut gallery::
At this point, I'm giggling to myself as I type, and mister mrtl asks me what I'm doing. I give him a brief synopsis, including the mention of writing Sofia Vergara into a "Terriers" Mexican adventure.

Ever the Man of Hispanic Studies, he points out that Vergara is Not Mexican.

Duh, I know that. She's Colombian, from the same town as Shakira. Did you know that mister smartypants?

So now tell me, which would be worse? Possibly offending a Colombian by requesting to cast her as a Mexican, or insulting a Colombian by suggesting that she couldn't possibly play a Mexican? Who would be a better choice? Scarlett Johansson? While Johansson rocked a great Jersey accent on SNL, I don't think she can yell, "Yay!" with the same energy. I think I'll trust Vergara's range.

We're not in "I couldn't find a picture of a ship, so I had to use a house" territory here, you know?
::end new tangent to note and address input from the peanut gallery::

See, now I'm totally off track on what I thought Hank and Britt would do when the light turns green. My tangents done tangented me. New verb?

I was going to say that they go straight, but then Britt complains of being hungry. Surely they should have a decent meal before going to jail. That food will suck. Hank agrees this is a very good idea, suggesting that if they go back take a right, there's a good spot not far down. The toe goes in the pool... They go, they eat, then they head back. There's more to lose if they run. Besides, Mexico would challenge sobriety. What goes better with carne asada than an ice cold Dos XX? And what if they're at a bar that has poppers? Hank would be totally screwed... not to say that Britt should really avoid drinking himself.

::tangent to define poppers::
It's been twenty years since I dared to venture into Tia Juana, so who knows if these are still a popular "gift" to bestow upon a buddy in a bar. Buy someone a popper, and he'll be assaulted, grabbed from behind into a headlock and tipped backward in his chair, have cheap and watered-down tequila poured down his throat, and then have his head jerked back and forth so violently with the crook of the giver's arm that a collar would prove a much more appropriate chaser than a taco.

There are not enough lawyers in the U.S. to entertain a popper option for those who can't stand hearing the birthday song. I'm just saying.
::end tangent to define poppers::

Despite how bad an idea it would be, I want them to turn left. If they go to Mexico, Sofia Vergara could show up. I don't care how she's written in, as long as she can yell "Yay!" And hey, maybe Shakira can make an appearance, too. She can sing and shake her booty. And Vergara could yell at people to stay clear of the booty. Yeah. I can totally see that. Maybe it all could be a dream sequence, so more random and crazy shit could happen.

Now that that's settled, should the show come back as a series, making a jump in time like "Desperate Housewives," or should there be a "The Brady Girls Get Married" type movie to give us an update on how Winston the dog is doing (That's right, Winston should get due credit here, being the dog on a show named after dogs. Winston really needs a better agent.)? Either way, I would highly suggest that Donal Logue and Michael Raymond-James take Winston with and spend some down time south of the border, capturing some special moments to serve as visual bridges once this brilliance is exhumed.

Speaking of exhumations, I also really miss "Pushing Daisies," especially the knitting and pie and Kristin Chenoweth. Crossover shows can be so much FUN, can't they? CAN'T THEY!? A girl can dream of dream sequences.

I really must continue to practice more effectively wasting my time.

today is one of those days when I just want to say

Fuck you, God!

Terribly painful, bad things happening to really great people. That shit ain't right.

i am too spent from reliving my day here to come up with a clever title, and must go to bed now despite the stupid fucking yappy dog. maybe i'll think of a title tomorrow.

I had today's post all worked out in my head. It was going to contain a lot of bitching and moaning about how it sucks to be the "handy one."

::tangent for child comparison::
O.M.G. We had Bug cursing at 2 years, 7 months. Jem is closing in on 2 years, 10 months. We need to get on the ball!
::end tangent for child comparison::

You know, if I put you through the hell I endured today, then maybe you'll understand the immensity of my glee at the end.

Today I showed that I am most definitely not so handy as much as I am stubbornly incapable of admitting to failure. Mister mrtl is apparently the wiser one, knowing when NOT to start a task (as he is so bound and determined to finish what he starts come hell, high water, bursting blood vessels in his forehead, and cursing toddlers). He would sooner call a professional than start something that he's pretty sure he couldn't finish. I, on the other hand, will call in reinforcements to clean up after my failed attempts. Higher aspirations, some would call that.

It's important to mention that I was not alone today. Jem developed a fever last night and stayed home with me. Fortunately there was no more puking, but she was a grumpy little booger. Her demands must be met to exacting standards when she is well, lest her little stork kisses take on an eerie glow and she shoots fire out of her ass. It's worse when she's sick, since she wants what she wants, doesn't care if there are things she shouldn't have when sick, is fiercely independent, and tends to change her mind a lot, especially about "little" things like where the bowl is put on her little table (there NO THERE - NO! I DO IT!!) or what color spoon she's using. Fear of having a puking episode brought on by hysterical screaming over red, no purple, no red I WANT RED RED RED! I GET IT!! aaaaaah! (crumble to the floor and scene) makes me tend to indulge this quirkiness when she's sick. She demanded constant television, which I was ok with. It kept her still and quiet. However, when she got nasty and tried to hit me or told me, "Go away!" what she wanted is not accessible to her anymore and we head to the kitchen to hang out on a floor that would be easily cleaned up should she start riotous puking. Add that to trying to get some repairs done around the house, necessitating a trip to a couple stores (during which she was pretty decent - a snack helped), and you'll better understand my state of mind.

Two "small" tasks were on my list today: a leaky faucet and a flooded pool. Yes, flooded pool. Patience. Leaky faucets I have conquered before; unfortunately it wasn't until I got it pulled apart that I realized that I didn't have the right replacement washer. FAIL. Onto the pool. When our pool man winterized, he told us to try to keep the water and leaves off the cover. The cheap pump we got sucks... I mean doesn't suck... No, that's not right. It's not working well, and with the lot of rain we've had lately and the dropping of the leaves over the last couple weeks, the pool was looking pretty bad. Last night, one of the long water-filled weights holding the cover in place fell into the pool, and another was in there this morning. No more procrastinating. Today I bought a new pump. SOOOO many frustrating obstacles just getting the damned thing set up, only to end up setting it up backwards, setting it up the right way to have it start spraying water from a place that's not supposed to spray water, taking it apart to repair the leak (probably from setting it up backwards -- yes, I read the freaking directions, but I still managed to screw it up), not screwing the cover back on tightly enough (see, I even screw at screwing ::stupid AF tangent:: SO TO SPEAK ::end stupid AF tangent::), which resulted in smoke coming out of it the next time it came on and this rubber doohickey inside melting. FAIL

I'm sure I could have figured this out with the replacement rubber doohickey, but this is where I was saved by the mailman. He walked up to my back fence with his knobby knees (had to throw that in for my northern friends... yes, warm enough here today for the mailman to be wearing his knickers) and told me he had a package from Canada to sign for. He also mentioned in what I'm seeing commonly and shall refer to as the SCJATAI (South Carolina Judgmental Attempt to Acquire Information), that I must have been out there for a while because he had knocked on my front door about a half hour before and told my little one to get her mommy but she must have had better things to do and didn't come back and so he decided to try again when he was about to leave our neighborhood.

I didn't respond. He didn't know that I checked on her regularly and that it absolutely surprised me that she actually left her "Little Einsteins" video for ANY amount of time to visit him at the front door. In retrospect, I should have said something about how it probably wasn't such a good idea to leave her alone in there for so long with the fireplace going and the knives and all medications and cleaning solvents opened on the kitchen floor. Asshole.

Anyway, back to the box. The lovely Frauline sent goodies. OMG the goodies! Smarties, coffee-flavored kit kat things, clustery chockies (haven't opened them yet), MOOSE-shaped pasta, some cute pencils, and some Yoshi awesomeness. Total squeee! I ate one of the coffee-flavored things and gave Jem some Smarties because the look she gave me when she saw I was happy was not pretty. The Smarties made her happy, too, until they were all gone and I wouldn't give her anymore. Still, that five minutes? Priceless. Thanks Kranki!

Eaten Alive

Alternate Title: The Unhappy Hostess

The day we closed on the new house the rugs got torn out, and over the following days new carpet was installed. The new carpet was infested with fleas, fleas that like me more than anyone else in the house. I walk into the family room in the morning and they're all, "WOOOO! Breakfast!" Even when I don't have fleas on me, I feel imaginary ones; it's a near-constant state of paranoia.

But wait, there's more! One day mister mrtl had me remove the hugest beetle I've seen on this side of the Pacific. I scoured What's That Bug? and found a picture that resembles it. For the squeamish, I'll link to the picture rather than posting it here. You know in Japan people keep these monsters as pets? I'm pretty sure my brother had one.

I called an exterminator promptly when we realized our plight. They told me they wouldn't make an appointment until I had vacuumed. This was on the morning of Day 2 of 3 for the movers, and we'd yet to see our vacuum cleaner emerge from the packing paper. It wasn't until Day 3 that we got it. Of course, after rushing to get the rugs cleaned up, the exterminator couldn't even come out for almost a week, today actually. I'm waiting for them now.

Bug was a little concerned about her friends during the bombing. She thought they'd be harmed. I think I'll move them to the van to give her peace of mind. I'm just glad she didn't make a connection about us calling her Bug and wanting to get rid of bugs.

Fisher Price Boycott

Yeah, that's right, Fisher Price. I'm pissed and am so OVER you. I am sick -- and tired! (think Bill Cosby) -- of your overzealous packaging practices. NO MORE!

Take your L'il Treasure Hunt set, for example. It's worth $5.00, but the damned thing has no fewer than four horrendously twisted wires holding it into the packaging -- make that into the inner plastic packaging as well as the inner cardboard packaging. GAH! The Pirate Ship was much worse. Both pirates were wired in from the front AND the back. And of course there were twisties impossibly twisted into the bottom of the ship (how the hell did you get it in there, anyway??). My child had quite the meltdown waiting for me to get the thing unwrapped for her. Did I mention she started saying, "MINE!" this week? Yeah. With the yeti scream. "EEEEEEEEEEE!!!! MIIIIIINE!!!!!"

Seriously, I understand you're concerned that people are going to try to steal merchandise, worse yet individual little people or animals from the sets, but get real already! This is fucking ridiculous. Really, if I wanted to steal the Treasure Hunt, the packaging is small enough to be hidden. That's right, I wouldn't have to bother unwrapping Roberto and His Loader until I got home. uh oh, Does that mean you're going to set a minumum packaging size for all of your products?

::tangent about Roberto::
ah HELL no. This shit ain't right. Making a little social commentary about hispanics and cheap road crew labor? Oh, and look, the Asian girl, Sonya Lee runs the pet groomer. You think people aren't going to notice that little white boy DREW gets to fly the rescue chopper? And the little white girls, Sarah Lynn and Elena get to go camping and picnics. That's going to get a double: WTFreakin'F?
::end tangent about Roberto::

Yeah, Fisher Price, I hope you notice all the linking from mrtland to your site and check it out. I hope you read this and learn that your twisties -- as well as your racist depictions -- have driven away a customer.

That is all.

Foul Emissions

I've conjured up a cute post about how my girls are now shacking up (Jem's crib was moved into Bug's room tonight on Bug's request -- she doesn't like being alone at night after they roomed together in Maryland), but the cat is sleeping and farting next to me, so I must rush now so I can post and then get the hell away from him before I heave.

Test results confirmed that he is diabetic. (Normal blood sugar level 100, his was in the 370's.) His new food has had quite the effect on this household. Makes sense that his wind smells so foul as well.

Stalking Bummer

I've been slow getting into MySpace, but have had a bit of fun looking up names I remember from the past. Childhood playmates, high school friends, old students, family.

Being slow, I'm just now finding that there are "stalker" programs that will POST A LINK TO MYSPACE with my picture to let people know I looked at their profile.

Egads. This shall be addressed. I won't stop stalking. So be it.

---

Update: So it turns out that's no longer in effect. Yay! I much prefer the anonymous stalking.