Vacation is on yonder horizon, and I only started getting excited just last week. I'm such a bad procrastinator, that I even put off getting excited for something I should have been excited about months ago. Not to worry, Mother has enough excitement for everyone.
Bought some clothes more fitting for beaches and 80-something degree weather, instead of of temps so cold that it will give a man two belly buttons. I finally sent in my paperwork for my dive card. Ordered a GPS so I don't get lost in Florida. Recharged the battery on the camera. Bought travelled sized soaps and things. Now, I just need to clean the house and pack. And figure out what to pay a house/dog sitter.
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In other news, the world is going batshit crazy. I hope the Giffords woman recovers. If she does without any residual effects, it will be nothing short of a miracle. Here's hoping that out of the ashes of such an event, positive things can happen, such as:
- The Tea Party imploding
- Sarah Palin being gored by a caribou
- Democrats and Republicans quit being little bitches and actually work for the benefit of the country they were elected to serve
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Yesterday, I had the misfortune of watching Knowing on cable with Nicholas Cage. Talk about a depressing movie. I wanted to go drive off a bridge on my way to work. Not to mention it was just a bad movie and I actually felt smug when the female lead character was killed off.
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The Chiefs have a game today. I know this because traffic was insane around Arrowhead as I was coming home from work. Have fun getting your second belly button, boys. I'm going to bed.
Showing posts with label Blathering. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Blathering. Show all posts
Sunday, January 09, 2011
Tuesday, January 04, 2011
A Year In Review
I know I probably say this every year, but this year, really sucked. REALLY. Aside from the oil spill and all the horrible things that happened in the world, let's just revisit the crappy things that made me wish my Hoover sucked as hard.
1. Oz. All my complaints would result in a wall of text so big, that it would take until mid-2011 to read it, so I will keep it down to basics. I entered into a relationship with a seemingly great guy. He didn't want a girlfriend, he wanted someone he could own. Who would drop everything (even their job) to go tend to their needs. When he cheated on me, he got mad that I found out. I made all the effort to make this relationship work. He wanted to reap all the rewards. And in the end, he wanted to try to see if we could make things work, even maybe living together. While he had another girlfriend. Say it with me...douchebag.
2. Topher. He was such a good friend, and who knows...if we had sat down and actually talked about what we really wanted, we may have had the potential to be more. He was brilliant, funny, compassionate, and lived life the way he wanted it, not caring what others thought. Burdened with a self-imposed race to present a sick parent with the family that they always wanted for their son, he entered, hastily, into a relationship with Pollyanna. Engaged not even 7 months later, he has turned into the poster child for Stuff White People Like. Everyone has noticed and he is now the butt of jokes. The worst part, he has forsaken his old friends in favor of living the JoCo dream. Too bad, Topher. I liked you just as you were, and wouldn't have asked you to change a thing.
3. My job. With the forming of what I now call The Evil Trio, my job has turned into a nightmare. Nice to your face, but stabbing you in the back the minute you turn around. The latest and greatest was that one tattled to the Bosshole because she didn't like that I didn't announce a Code Blue overhead. I don't think she could believe (in all the two-years experience she has amassed), that a code could have successfully been done without her presence. The gloves have come off, as far as I am concerned. They wanted GB the Asshole. Well, ladies, the asshole is now here. Of course, it would be easier if I just transferred.
4. My friend Kant and her Kidney Quest. Nice people shouldn't people shouldn't have to go through shit like this. Why couldn't it have been on of the Evil Trio, they are far more deserving of such trials. I'm still waiting to be tested, along with a bunch of other people. I think that is a good show of just how much people love you...but the length of the list of people who are willing to give you one of their own kidneys.
5. The emergence of a gallbladder that hates me. And a uterus. My body is rebelling against me.
There are a bunch of other little things that didn't enhance my year, but I won't bore you with the details. Here's hoping that 2011 is a better year. Already, things are looking up.
1. Oz. All my complaints would result in a wall of text so big, that it would take until mid-2011 to read it, so I will keep it down to basics. I entered into a relationship with a seemingly great guy. He didn't want a girlfriend, he wanted someone he could own. Who would drop everything (even their job) to go tend to their needs. When he cheated on me, he got mad that I found out. I made all the effort to make this relationship work. He wanted to reap all the rewards. And in the end, he wanted to try to see if we could make things work, even maybe living together. While he had another girlfriend. Say it with me...douchebag.
2. Topher. He was such a good friend, and who knows...if we had sat down and actually talked about what we really wanted, we may have had the potential to be more. He was brilliant, funny, compassionate, and lived life the way he wanted it, not caring what others thought. Burdened with a self-imposed race to present a sick parent with the family that they always wanted for their son, he entered, hastily, into a relationship with Pollyanna. Engaged not even 7 months later, he has turned into the poster child for Stuff White People Like. Everyone has noticed and he is now the butt of jokes. The worst part, he has forsaken his old friends in favor of living the JoCo dream. Too bad, Topher. I liked you just as you were, and wouldn't have asked you to change a thing.
3. My job. With the forming of what I now call The Evil Trio, my job has turned into a nightmare. Nice to your face, but stabbing you in the back the minute you turn around. The latest and greatest was that one tattled to the Bosshole because she didn't like that I didn't announce a Code Blue overhead. I don't think she could believe (in all the two-years experience she has amassed), that a code could have successfully been done without her presence. The gloves have come off, as far as I am concerned. They wanted GB the Asshole. Well, ladies, the asshole is now here. Of course, it would be easier if I just transferred.
4. My friend Kant and her Kidney Quest. Nice people shouldn't people shouldn't have to go through shit like this. Why couldn't it have been on of the Evil Trio, they are far more deserving of such trials. I'm still waiting to be tested, along with a bunch of other people. I think that is a good show of just how much people love you...but the length of the list of people who are willing to give you one of their own kidneys.
5. The emergence of a gallbladder that hates me. And a uterus. My body is rebelling against me.
There are a bunch of other little things that didn't enhance my year, but I won't bore you with the details. Here's hoping that 2011 is a better year. Already, things are looking up.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Thursday Blather
Today, I went to the Fifth Circle of Hell for more voluntary torture. While I was waiting for my turn to be seen, I observed various goings-on around the gym area. The gym area, mostly frequented by the senior crowd, also has a little setup with tables and chairs. Sort of like a cafe. Today, I noticed a group sitting at one table, enjoying coffee and Krispy Kreme donuts. At a gym. When finished, some of them left, others went and worked out. After eating Krispy Kreme donuts. I wonder if that gym has a defibrillator...
I also got fitted for a knee brace to wear to work. Hopefully, I will notice a difference this weekend. It's kind of a bad ass looking brace, but no one will get to see it under my scrub pants. Darn!
Tonight, I spent the majority of the evening taking cabinet doors off their frames and sanding them. All the while, texting a computer-savvy friend as to why my computer sucks...and if it needs just some upgrades, or replaced entirely.
I still haven't figured out what to do with the hinges. I'm hoping to have an epiphany while I am at work.
They kept showing trailers on the television for Dark Knight. I get excited whenever I see one, and I don't care if it's a trailer I've seen a hundred times already. This is a movie I am most excited to see. Not only do I think it's going to blow all other summer releases out of the water, I'm thinking it will turn out to be the capstone of Heath Ledger's career. Just seeing him in clips as the Joker give me goose pimples. I haven't been this excited since just before the last Harry Potter book was released. If I was a guy, I totally would be sporting a boner.
Last night, I managed to paint the drawers and frame on the island. The doors are still waiting to be painted. I started out with a brush, and then tried one of the little foam rollers. I've decided those little foam rollers rock, and I will use them to paint the rest of the cabinets. I need to look at some sort of kitchen organizing stuff so my spice cupboard doesn't look like everything was just thrown in there...because it totally has been just thrown in there.
The final part of the kitchen project will take place next week. If anyone wants to come and help, I still pay handsomely in pizza and beer.
I'm sort of blah right now. This week hasn't been that great at Casa de Heather. I got a hunch on something pretty horrible and important at the same time. I'll blog more about it later as I see if my hunch was correct. You will know it to be true by the fire in my post, not to mention a nuclear explosion coming from the general vicinity of my house.
At any rate, I'm going to turn in early tonight. I have to conserve strength for that nuclear explosion.
I also got fitted for a knee brace to wear to work. Hopefully, I will notice a difference this weekend. It's kind of a bad ass looking brace, but no one will get to see it under my scrub pants. Darn!
Tonight, I spent the majority of the evening taking cabinet doors off their frames and sanding them. All the while, texting a computer-savvy friend as to why my computer sucks...and if it needs just some upgrades, or replaced entirely.
I still haven't figured out what to do with the hinges. I'm hoping to have an epiphany while I am at work.
They kept showing trailers on the television for Dark Knight. I get excited whenever I see one, and I don't care if it's a trailer I've seen a hundred times already. This is a movie I am most excited to see. Not only do I think it's going to blow all other summer releases out of the water, I'm thinking it will turn out to be the capstone of Heath Ledger's career. Just seeing him in clips as the Joker give me goose pimples. I haven't been this excited since just before the last Harry Potter book was released. If I was a guy, I totally would be sporting a boner.
Last night, I managed to paint the drawers and frame on the island. The doors are still waiting to be painted. I started out with a brush, and then tried one of the little foam rollers. I've decided those little foam rollers rock, and I will use them to paint the rest of the cabinets. I need to look at some sort of kitchen organizing stuff so my spice cupboard doesn't look like everything was just thrown in there...because it totally has been just thrown in there.
The final part of the kitchen project will take place next week. If anyone wants to come and help, I still pay handsomely in pizza and beer.
I'm sort of blah right now. This week hasn't been that great at Casa de Heather. I got a hunch on something pretty horrible and important at the same time. I'll blog more about it later as I see if my hunch was correct. You will know it to be true by the fire in my post, not to mention a nuclear explosion coming from the general vicinity of my house.
At any rate, I'm going to turn in early tonight. I have to conserve strength for that nuclear explosion.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Thursday Blather
This week, I went and got my hair done. As the weather gets warmer, my hair grows faster. This is problematic when the red hairs that reside on my head, were not a genetic gift from my parents. It looks rather odd to see pretty red hair, with blonde roots. People stare. If it were at-home-bleached blonde hair with black roots, people would just think "white trash" and move on. They haven't decided what to call me, other than confused.
At any rate, I went to see my girl, Kelley, who is a ball of fun and glitter. We made a game plan to get my red locks back to the natural blonde that my father passed on to me. The first step: to remove the red without giving me a chemical haircut. Red is hard to keep in hair, but once it's in, it won't leave willingly.
To make a long story short, I am now a brunette. The last time I was a brunette, I was in cosmetology school. It was not a good look for me. I looked anemic. It was horrible. I swore I would never travel down that road again.
But here I am...brown hair. I still look anemic, but not frighteningly so. The red is still peeking through when certain light hits it, but it's something I can live with until the next phase of the plan...of which I don't know when will take place.
Yesterday, I took Mom out to dinner, and it started to pour down rain on our way home. Brookside was a complete mess as the drains couldn't keep up with the rain. Somewhere on 63rd street, we hear a loud pop, and just like that, the driver side window wiper blade has disappeared. Awesome! So, I drive the rest of the way home with no wiper blade. Thankfully, there was Rain-X on the window, and I could still see somewhat.
Driving on 63rd street + Noah's Ark conditions + no wiper blade = bad.
Tonight is the blogger meetup. I have a couple errands to run before I go, so I will be getting there late. Hopefully, Janet and Keith will save a piece of the infamous boob cake. I don't really need the nipple. I've got two of my own.
At any rate, I went to see my girl, Kelley, who is a ball of fun and glitter. We made a game plan to get my red locks back to the natural blonde that my father passed on to me. The first step: to remove the red without giving me a chemical haircut. Red is hard to keep in hair, but once it's in, it won't leave willingly.
To make a long story short, I am now a brunette. The last time I was a brunette, I was in cosmetology school. It was not a good look for me. I looked anemic. It was horrible. I swore I would never travel down that road again.
But here I am...brown hair. I still look anemic, but not frighteningly so. The red is still peeking through when certain light hits it, but it's something I can live with until the next phase of the plan...of which I don't know when will take place.
Yesterday, I took Mom out to dinner, and it started to pour down rain on our way home. Brookside was a complete mess as the drains couldn't keep up with the rain. Somewhere on 63rd street, we hear a loud pop, and just like that, the driver side window wiper blade has disappeared. Awesome! So, I drive the rest of the way home with no wiper blade. Thankfully, there was Rain-X on the window, and I could still see somewhat.
Driving on 63rd street + Noah's Ark conditions + no wiper blade = bad.
Tonight is the blogger meetup. I have a couple errands to run before I go, so I will be getting there late. Hopefully, Janet and Keith will save a piece of the infamous boob cake. I don't really need the nipple. I've got two of my own.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Heather In Heartbreak Hotel
I'm so sad right now, I could just cry.
An Elvis parade, right here in Downtown KC, and I missed it. I MISSED IT!!!
WHY DIDN'T ANYONE TELL ME THERE WAS AN ELVIS PARADE IN KANSAS CITY!?!?!?! NOW I HAVE TO WAIT AN ENTIRE YEAR TO SEE IT!!!!
I'm going to go find a peanut butter and banana sandwich to drown my sorrows in.
An Elvis parade, right here in Downtown KC, and I missed it. I MISSED IT!!!
WHY DIDN'T ANYONE TELL ME THERE WAS AN ELVIS PARADE IN KANSAS CITY!?!?!?! NOW I HAVE TO WAIT AN ENTIRE YEAR TO SEE IT!!!!
I'm going to go find a peanut butter and banana sandwich to drown my sorrows in.
Friday Night Blather
Things with Brother are going well other than the fact that he smokes worse than a pile of burning leaves. He's banned from smoking in the house (as with all smokers), but has been good about going outside to light up without complaining. He's been pretty entertaining. Just the other night I was able to talk him into putting a cicada in his mouth for less than a dollar. He stood there, opening and closing his mouth while the cicada made it's buzzing noise. It was pretty funny in a disgusting sort of way. When we were younger, we used to tell him to put all kinds of stuff in his mouth just to see if he would do it. It's nice to know that somethings haven't changed.
Everyday he comes home from work and tells me all about his benefits and whatnot, which leads me to ask, "Do they hire nurses?" Seriously.
We are currently engaging in emails wars with the Bosshole. His first salvo was to chide us for binding the techs and flogging them with used foley catheters, then making them do their jobs. Actually, we just got lectured about that last part. Some techs need to be reminded of their job duties...every five minutes. Then, they go crying to the Bosshole about how big of victims they are because the evil nurses exact our misery on them every chance we get, which leads to hate mail from the Bosshole filled with lots of exclamation points. I returned the volley and sent out an email which pointed out that he sucked, but in big flowering words and sentence structure that really didn't come right out and say he sucked. Sometimes, you just have to read between the lines.
To his credit, the Bosshole is giving me some time off to recover from my Big Surgery next week. Maybe he did it because he knew I would just call in sick if he didn't. Somethings are more important than work. Maybe he did it because he is trying to redeem himself because he fucked up so badly, one of our pregnant nurses is without health insurance until the first of the year.
The hospital released some statistics. Housewide, nurse turnover is at 13%, which is really good when you compare it to other hospitals. For our floor alone, the turnover is 21%, earning us the title of Worst Floor In Entire Hospital. Like we didn't know that already. I wonder if any of the higher-ups have noticed, and maybe try to find out why we can't retain staff.
I had to call the doctor's office today and confirm my appointment next week for pre-op festivities. I swear, I've had to call them for everything: to find out what my test results were, to schedule my surgery, to schedule my pre-op stuff. The organization of that office stinks. I just hope they have their shit together by the time I'm wheeled into the O.R. or I am going to wake up with a penis.
I worked extra Thursday night, so tonight feels like Saturday. I have to keep reminding myself that it's Friday and I have one more shift. I'm taking Sunday off because of some appointments I have early Monday. Coincidentally, a friend I haven't seen in 10 years is coming for a short visit. I asked him what he wanted to do while he was here, and he told me, "Go see Harry Potter on IMAX." Apparently, IMAX doesn't exist in South Carolina. I think I may have him read something to me while he's here because he has the cutest southern accent.
Nothing more to report. I'm pretty tired...too tired to spew my usual weekend venom. I wish I had a good book to read right now. I think I will go find a book or two to read while I am recovering from having my hoo-hah sliced and diced. Kant suggested some good reads, and she always has good book suggestions.
Have a good weekend, y'all!!
Everyday he comes home from work and tells me all about his benefits and whatnot, which leads me to ask, "Do they hire nurses?" Seriously.
We are currently engaging in emails wars with the Bosshole. His first salvo was to chide us for binding the techs and flogging them with used foley catheters, then making them do their jobs. Actually, we just got lectured about that last part. Some techs need to be reminded of their job duties...every five minutes. Then, they go crying to the Bosshole about how big of victims they are because the evil nurses exact our misery on them every chance we get, which leads to hate mail from the Bosshole filled with lots of exclamation points. I returned the volley and sent out an email which pointed out that he sucked, but in big flowering words and sentence structure that really didn't come right out and say he sucked. Sometimes, you just have to read between the lines.
To his credit, the Bosshole is giving me some time off to recover from my Big Surgery next week. Maybe he did it because he knew I would just call in sick if he didn't. Somethings are more important than work. Maybe he did it because he is trying to redeem himself because he fucked up so badly, one of our pregnant nurses is without health insurance until the first of the year.
The hospital released some statistics. Housewide, nurse turnover is at 13%, which is really good when you compare it to other hospitals. For our floor alone, the turnover is 21%, earning us the title of Worst Floor In Entire Hospital. Like we didn't know that already. I wonder if any of the higher-ups have noticed, and maybe try to find out why we can't retain staff.
I had to call the doctor's office today and confirm my appointment next week for pre-op festivities. I swear, I've had to call them for everything: to find out what my test results were, to schedule my surgery, to schedule my pre-op stuff. The organization of that office stinks. I just hope they have their shit together by the time I'm wheeled into the O.R. or I am going to wake up with a penis.
I worked extra Thursday night, so tonight feels like Saturday. I have to keep reminding myself that it's Friday and I have one more shift. I'm taking Sunday off because of some appointments I have early Monday. Coincidentally, a friend I haven't seen in 10 years is coming for a short visit. I asked him what he wanted to do while he was here, and he told me, "Go see Harry Potter on IMAX." Apparently, IMAX doesn't exist in South Carolina. I think I may have him read something to me while he's here because he has the cutest southern accent.
Nothing more to report. I'm pretty tired...too tired to spew my usual weekend venom. I wish I had a good book to read right now. I think I will go find a book or two to read while I am recovering from having my hoo-hah sliced and diced. Kant suggested some good reads, and she always has good book suggestions.
Have a good weekend, y'all!!
Monday, August 13, 2007
Monday Blather
Work sucked this weekend...as usual. I was injured when I was assisting moving a 400 lb plus asshole who attempted to bite anyone who tried to help. I don't know if he was meaning harm us, or if he was trying to eat us, but I hurt my arm all the same. I filled out an incident report, and will probably have to go see Occupational Health, which ranks right up there with getting a colposcopy or listening to Paris Hilton's album.
Paul (ND!) and I went out to dinner tonight to Cinzetti's. I'd been there once or twice, many years ago. I remember being there and making mention about the buffet in front of an employee, who sniffed, "We are not a buffet. We are an Italian Market". Apparently, Johnson County has issues with the buffet label.
I don't care what they say. If you have an open feeding trough and people pay a flat rate to graze there, it's a buffet. You can dress it up as much as you want to make it look like a quaint little market place in some charming Italian town, but it's still a buffet. I should have tested this whole market thing by trying to buy some of the cheap plastic tomatoes from a fake cart.
As I was sitting there, munching on something I acquired from the market, this ginormous lady came in with her family. I'm not going to dog on how big she was, but let's stop for a moment to reflect on what she was wearing: beige pants that were two sizes two small and revealed her buttcrack when she sat down, a flimsy spaghetti strap shirt that was stretched to the point her boob almost fell out of the side when she went from sitting to standing position, and her bra with industrial strength straps glaring out from under the shirt. I blanched. Paul followed my gaze and smirked. He wasn't concerned, his back was to her. Meanwhile, I get birds eye view of the Eternal Buttcrack to go with my crepe.
After dinner, we wander over to Borders and set up camp in the bargain books section. Call me odd, but I feel sorry for the bargain books. Books that no one wanted and are marked down, left to sit on the shelf until some cheapass like me comes along looking for another book to add to the bathroom library. It's not their fault, those books that couldn't make the cut to full retail price. Blame it on their shitty authors who only were lucky enough to get their book published because their parents owned the publishing company. I always try to do my part so unwanted books can have a happy home.
Imagine what would happen if I went to an animal shelter.
I found another book for the bathroom library, not to mention a bible on BBQ grilling. We paid for our purchases and went our separate ways. Another night out, and I still go home alone.
My brother hasn't moved in yet. If ever were a procrastinator, it would be him. He can put off deciding what to put off. Thankfully, I got his room painted a lovely blue courtesy of Eddie Bauer. I hung a set of khaki curtains only to realize that I hung to curtain rod too low and the curtains were too long. Never to be deterred, I put the curtains in the washer and shrunk the piss out of them with hot water. They hang perfectly now. A matching set of bedding for the room and I will have a guest room that any soccer mom would be happy to sleep off their hangovers in. Mike doesn't care about colors and decor. He's just happy he gets his own room and I am not making him sleep in the basement.
At any rate, he says he's moving in tomorrow and tomorrow night, I will have an orientation to the daily operations of Heather's House, which will include exciting seminars such as:
How to Operate the Washer Without Flooding the Garage
The Toilet Seat: It Can Go Down! Also paired with The Toilet: It's Lower Than You Think
The Dishwasher: It's Not Just for Looks
Surviving With Standard Satellite Channels
If You Break It, You're Sister is Going to Kick Your Ass
The Thermostat: Touch it and Die
and most importantly Please Don't Burn Down My House
He starts his first day of work on Wednesday. Eight days of orientation then he starts working night shift, which works out great because he will have to sleep during the day, the same as I do. Mike is a good kid, and I'm not too concerned about him staying with me. He's fun to have around, even though I'm fairly certain his cooking prowess is limited to hot dogs and peanut butter sandwiches. I'm happy he'll be here because I'll be more inclined to cook if someone else is there. I eat out way too much. Besides, I need to put to use that new cook book I just rescued from the bookstore.
Paul (ND!) and I went out to dinner tonight to Cinzetti's. I'd been there once or twice, many years ago. I remember being there and making mention about the buffet in front of an employee, who sniffed, "We are not a buffet. We are an Italian Market". Apparently, Johnson County has issues with the buffet label.
I don't care what they say. If you have an open feeding trough and people pay a flat rate to graze there, it's a buffet. You can dress it up as much as you want to make it look like a quaint little market place in some charming Italian town, but it's still a buffet. I should have tested this whole market thing by trying to buy some of the cheap plastic tomatoes from a fake cart.
As I was sitting there, munching on something I acquired from the market, this ginormous lady came in with her family. I'm not going to dog on how big she was, but let's stop for a moment to reflect on what she was wearing: beige pants that were two sizes two small and revealed her buttcrack when she sat down, a flimsy spaghetti strap shirt that was stretched to the point her boob almost fell out of the side when she went from sitting to standing position, and her bra with industrial strength straps glaring out from under the shirt. I blanched. Paul followed my gaze and smirked. He wasn't concerned, his back was to her. Meanwhile, I get birds eye view of the Eternal Buttcrack to go with my crepe.
After dinner, we wander over to Borders and set up camp in the bargain books section. Call me odd, but I feel sorry for the bargain books. Books that no one wanted and are marked down, left to sit on the shelf until some cheapass like me comes along looking for another book to add to the bathroom library. It's not their fault, those books that couldn't make the cut to full retail price. Blame it on their shitty authors who only were lucky enough to get their book published because their parents owned the publishing company. I always try to do my part so unwanted books can have a happy home.
Imagine what would happen if I went to an animal shelter.
I found another book for the bathroom library, not to mention a bible on BBQ grilling. We paid for our purchases and went our separate ways. Another night out, and I still go home alone.
My brother hasn't moved in yet. If ever were a procrastinator, it would be him. He can put off deciding what to put off. Thankfully, I got his room painted a lovely blue courtesy of Eddie Bauer. I hung a set of khaki curtains only to realize that I hung to curtain rod too low and the curtains were too long. Never to be deterred, I put the curtains in the washer and shrunk the piss out of them with hot water. They hang perfectly now. A matching set of bedding for the room and I will have a guest room that any soccer mom would be happy to sleep off their hangovers in. Mike doesn't care about colors and decor. He's just happy he gets his own room and I am not making him sleep in the basement.
At any rate, he says he's moving in tomorrow and tomorrow night, I will have an orientation to the daily operations of Heather's House, which will include exciting seminars such as:
How to Operate the Washer Without Flooding the Garage
The Toilet Seat: It Can Go Down! Also paired with The Toilet: It's Lower Than You Think
The Dishwasher: It's Not Just for Looks
Surviving With Standard Satellite Channels
If You Break It, You're Sister is Going to Kick Your Ass
The Thermostat: Touch it and Die
and most importantly Please Don't Burn Down My House
He starts his first day of work on Wednesday. Eight days of orientation then he starts working night shift, which works out great because he will have to sleep during the day, the same as I do. Mike is a good kid, and I'm not too concerned about him staying with me. He's fun to have around, even though I'm fairly certain his cooking prowess is limited to hot dogs and peanut butter sandwiches. I'm happy he'll be here because I'll be more inclined to cook if someone else is there. I eat out way too much. Besides, I need to put to use that new cook book I just rescued from the bookstore.
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Bonds Schmonds
So, Bonds beat Aaron's record? Whatever.
As far as I am concerned, that record is still unbroken.
The only comforting thing about all of it is that Bonds probably has a little penis. 'Roids will do that, ya know.
As far as I am concerned, that record is still unbroken.
The only comforting thing about all of it is that Bonds probably has a little penis. 'Roids will do that, ya know.
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
Tuesday Bleh
Up late again. This late night crap is for the birds.
Work sucked, which is now becoming the norm. Half the night nurses have either quit or put in for transfer. The Bosshole has no idea he's the reason. He doesn't care. This job is only a stepping stone for him. I recently read a story that said crappy managers get promoted instead of punished. I can attest to this sentiment. Somewhere, there are nurses who love their jobs and look forward to going in to work. None of those nurses work on my floor. It's depressing. My doctor thinks all my problems right now are directly related to stress, a catalyst to cause one thing to cause another. I think she knows where I work.
Want to come work with me??
Monday, Paul (ND!) took me to lunch at a place called Peachtree. It's soul food, which is a fancy way of saying it's really salty. We were the only white people there. It was magical. The food was good, and they give you a free set of cardiac paddles with your meal. Generally, I don't add salt to my food. I use other seasonings (including an awesome blend I found in Tortola) to enhance my food. It was quite a shock to actually have a meal and have swollen fingers shortly after. If you go there, stay away from the mashed potatoes.
I've only eaten "soul food" once before. I had a roommate (who was black), and she took me to her grandmother's house for Sunday dinner. I was standing there, plate in hand, surveying the table laden with more food than Thanksgiving dinner. Her grandmother eyed my empty plate and thrust a second one in my hands...for the meat, she said. I've never been to a dinner that required me to two-plate it. Afterwards, I told Taja that I understood why everyone in her family was being treated for high blood pressure. She agreed with me.
Today, I went and got my haircut. It's short and has character, but not too short. I also had it highlighted because I was genetically blessed with that mousy dark blond color that makes my hair look chronically dirty. I went to the new girl again as I am not able to get a hold of Amy. Recent Amy-sightings have her wasted on illicit substances, so maybe it's better she not do my hair right now. The last time she did, she left the bleach on too long and it fell out in hunks and chunks.
That was a bad week.
Tomorrow, I get to go see the doctor. It seems since I talked to Nurse Betty, the time waiting for this appointment has slowed to a crawl. I've not been completely honest with my Mom about what is going on because I don't want her to freak out. I'll get the entire picture tomorrow then I will tell her. I'm ready for all of this to be over.
My little brother is planning on moving in on Friday, which means I need to get his room painted before then. I think I will be doing it on Thursday. I'm excited to see how it will look when I am finished. I also have to get accustomed to having a roommate again...which means no more walking around the house naked. Mom is pretty excited about him moving in with me because she will know he is okay and she can have two of her children close by.
I got nothing else. I think I will go to bed now and try to sleep.
Work sucked, which is now becoming the norm. Half the night nurses have either quit or put in for transfer. The Bosshole has no idea he's the reason. He doesn't care. This job is only a stepping stone for him. I recently read a story that said crappy managers get promoted instead of punished. I can attest to this sentiment. Somewhere, there are nurses who love their jobs and look forward to going in to work. None of those nurses work on my floor. It's depressing. My doctor thinks all my problems right now are directly related to stress, a catalyst to cause one thing to cause another. I think she knows where I work.
Want to come work with me??
Monday, Paul (ND!) took me to lunch at a place called Peachtree. It's soul food, which is a fancy way of saying it's really salty. We were the only white people there. It was magical. The food was good, and they give you a free set of cardiac paddles with your meal. Generally, I don't add salt to my food. I use other seasonings (including an awesome blend I found in Tortola) to enhance my food. It was quite a shock to actually have a meal and have swollen fingers shortly after. If you go there, stay away from the mashed potatoes.
I've only eaten "soul food" once before. I had a roommate (who was black), and she took me to her grandmother's house for Sunday dinner. I was standing there, plate in hand, surveying the table laden with more food than Thanksgiving dinner. Her grandmother eyed my empty plate and thrust a second one in my hands...for the meat, she said. I've never been to a dinner that required me to two-plate it. Afterwards, I told Taja that I understood why everyone in her family was being treated for high blood pressure. She agreed with me.
Today, I went and got my haircut. It's short and has character, but not too short. I also had it highlighted because I was genetically blessed with that mousy dark blond color that makes my hair look chronically dirty. I went to the new girl again as I am not able to get a hold of Amy. Recent Amy-sightings have her wasted on illicit substances, so maybe it's better she not do my hair right now. The last time she did, she left the bleach on too long and it fell out in hunks and chunks.
That was a bad week.
Tomorrow, I get to go see the doctor. It seems since I talked to Nurse Betty, the time waiting for this appointment has slowed to a crawl. I've not been completely honest with my Mom about what is going on because I don't want her to freak out. I'll get the entire picture tomorrow then I will tell her. I'm ready for all of this to be over.
My little brother is planning on moving in on Friday, which means I need to get his room painted before then. I think I will be doing it on Thursday. I'm excited to see how it will look when I am finished. I also have to get accustomed to having a roommate again...which means no more walking around the house naked. Mom is pretty excited about him moving in with me because she will know he is okay and she can have two of her children close by.
I got nothing else. I think I will go to bed now and try to sleep.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Ho-Hum
Yeah, I know I haven't been posting. My posts are in spurts...one day I could have lots of things to blog about, some days...nothing. I'm sure most bloggers have this problem from time to time.
Today, after I shower, I have a full day lined up: go buy new scrubs, move Sam's kennel into the office, clean the walls in the guest room in preparation for painting, tape the guest room, tidy up the house, find something to blog about, make some phone calls. In actuality...I will more than likely only get half of that list done.
I'll get back to you later.
Today, after I shower, I have a full day lined up: go buy new scrubs, move Sam's kennel into the office, clean the walls in the guest room in preparation for painting, tape the guest room, tidy up the house, find something to blog about, make some phone calls. In actuality...I will more than likely only get half of that list done.
I'll get back to you later.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Counter Help and Other Blather
So I've been eyeballing my count, because every blogger does. If they deny it, they are big, fat liars. We are all attention whores, just deal with it.
At any rate, I've noticed that with my counter, it's divided into two categories: Page Views and Visits. There is roughly a difference of 16,000 between the totals of the two, with my page views being the higher number.
So, can anyone out there in Blogdom enlighten me here? I have no clue what the difference is.
Today, I did some more staining of the deck. I've got the floor part done, all I need to do are the spots where the stain soaked in more to the point that the color is spotty. I also need to finish the railing. Before I started the deck staining project, I figured it would only take two days: one to strip and power wash, the other to stain. If I can paint an entire room in one day, a deck shouldn't be that bad. Whatever. Two entirely different animals.
Paul (ND!) came over for dinner and I grilled the biggest squash on the planet. It was tasty. I tossed on a couple steaks and some sweet corn I picked up at the farmer's market. I also made some chocolate peanut butter cupcakes with some homemade peanut butter-cream cheese frosting. The cupcakes were good, but the frosting was out of this world. I could just eat the frosting and be a happy camper, or slather it on Ryan Reynold's stomach and lick it off. Then I'd be a REALLY happy camper.
Paul and I watched Norbit, which I thought was probably not one of Eddie Murphy's finest. It actually seemed to drag on at times. There were a few funny parts, but not enough to redeem the whole movie.
After he left, I watched Top Chef, which is probably the only reality show I like. Sometimes, I contemplate taking some cooking lessons. I know how to cook already, but I'd really like to learn to do some fancy schmancy stuff so I can be a MacGuyver in the kitchen, too. Take a shrimp, a mushroom and some mustard and create a Thanksgiving turkey (well, you get my meaning). Besides, I really like to entertain guests, and I think it would be fun to try new things and use them as guinea pigs.
Tomorrow, I simply must go see the new Harry Potter flick. The book comes out Saturday, and naturally I am working. I will probably swing by somewhere and pick it up on my way home in the morning, but I'm going to try to resist cracking it open until Monday when I can fully dedicate my time to reading it.
That's all I got for now. I think I will go to bed and try to fall asleep. This insomnia sucks.
At any rate, I've noticed that with my counter, it's divided into two categories: Page Views and Visits. There is roughly a difference of 16,000 between the totals of the two, with my page views being the higher number.
So, can anyone out there in Blogdom enlighten me here? I have no clue what the difference is.
Today, I did some more staining of the deck. I've got the floor part done, all I need to do are the spots where the stain soaked in more to the point that the color is spotty. I also need to finish the railing. Before I started the deck staining project, I figured it would only take two days: one to strip and power wash, the other to stain. If I can paint an entire room in one day, a deck shouldn't be that bad. Whatever. Two entirely different animals.
Paul (ND!) came over for dinner and I grilled the biggest squash on the planet. It was tasty. I tossed on a couple steaks and some sweet corn I picked up at the farmer's market. I also made some chocolate peanut butter cupcakes with some homemade peanut butter-cream cheese frosting. The cupcakes were good, but the frosting was out of this world. I could just eat the frosting and be a happy camper, or slather it on Ryan Reynold's stomach and lick it off. Then I'd be a REALLY happy camper.
Paul and I watched Norbit, which I thought was probably not one of Eddie Murphy's finest. It actually seemed to drag on at times. There were a few funny parts, but not enough to redeem the whole movie.
After he left, I watched Top Chef, which is probably the only reality show I like. Sometimes, I contemplate taking some cooking lessons. I know how to cook already, but I'd really like to learn to do some fancy schmancy stuff so I can be a MacGuyver in the kitchen, too. Take a shrimp, a mushroom and some mustard and create a Thanksgiving turkey (well, you get my meaning). Besides, I really like to entertain guests, and I think it would be fun to try new things and use them as guinea pigs.
Tomorrow, I simply must go see the new Harry Potter flick. The book comes out Saturday, and naturally I am working. I will probably swing by somewhere and pick it up on my way home in the morning, but I'm going to try to resist cracking it open until Monday when I can fully dedicate my time to reading it.
That's all I got for now. I think I will go to bed and try to fall asleep. This insomnia sucks.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Hah!
It was only a matter of time before we knew it would happen.
Ordinarily, I'm not a huge proponent of lawsuits, but this is pretty damn funny. None of the people who filed have TB, but the risk is there.
This could end up being a more costly wedding than initially thought. Hee!!
Ordinarily, I'm not a huge proponent of lawsuits, but this is pretty damn funny. None of the people who filed have TB, but the risk is there.
This could end up being a more costly wedding than initially thought. Hee!!
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Tuesday Blather
Returned to the gym last night around 1am. A total of 5 people there, including the kid working the desk, and the little Hispanic guy power spraying the floor of the women's locker room. He didn't leave when I walked in, and just kept spraying. I stood there for a minute pondering if my need to pee was great enough to shoo the guy out. I opted to leave the restroom at that time. I could always come back when he was finished. Besides, I have the bladder of a nurse...and I can hold it for HOURS.
I had initially wanted to swim some laps, but I couldn't find my swim goggles, plus my legs were as hairy as Paul's (ND!). Granted, there was no one there to critique my Sasquatch stems, but ask any swimmer and they will tell you, body hair makes you less aerodynamic.
And so again with the 10 miles on the stationary bike, this time finishing five minutes faster (just in case you were wondering, I wasn't sore the day after my initial workout). I just watched Heroes on my iPod (I've got two more episodes left). Another mile on the treadmill, and I left. I still didn't go pee.
I decided to stop at the store and pick up some groceries, namely, the essentials of any kitchen: eggs, butter, milk. I like shopping late, but don't care for weaving in and out of boxes and the store workers who are trying to empty them. After I got home, unpacked, and loaded the dishwasher, it was almost 4am.
Tomorrow, I get to visit an actual gynecologist about Heather's Adventure Kingdom and it's malfunctioning main attraction. Hopefully, the buck stops with her, and I won't have to see a doctor with the word "Oncologist" after their name. I also get to go to a four hour class on stroke patients. One of the featured speakers is the Bosshole's wife. Added bonus!
I had initially wanted to swim some laps, but I couldn't find my swim goggles, plus my legs were as hairy as Paul's (ND!). Granted, there was no one there to critique my Sasquatch stems, but ask any swimmer and they will tell you, body hair makes you less aerodynamic.
And so again with the 10 miles on the stationary bike, this time finishing five minutes faster (just in case you were wondering, I wasn't sore the day after my initial workout). I just watched Heroes on my iPod (I've got two more episodes left). Another mile on the treadmill, and I left. I still didn't go pee.
I decided to stop at the store and pick up some groceries, namely, the essentials of any kitchen: eggs, butter, milk. I like shopping late, but don't care for weaving in and out of boxes and the store workers who are trying to empty them. After I got home, unpacked, and loaded the dishwasher, it was almost 4am.
Tomorrow, I get to visit an actual gynecologist about Heather's Adventure Kingdom and it's malfunctioning main attraction. Hopefully, the buck stops with her, and I won't have to see a doctor with the word "Oncologist" after their name. I also get to go to a four hour class on stroke patients. One of the featured speakers is the Bosshole's wife. Added bonus!
Monday, April 30, 2007
Bang, Bang, My Baby Shot Me Down
X-man posted his thoughts on gun control in a very passionate post. I don't necessarily agree with his views, but far be it for me to tell him that he's wrong. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion, much like the right to bear arms. I suspect you can take that or leave it as well.
I used to be a strong advocate of gun control for a couple days before I thought about it. Whenever there is a shooting of the magnitude of Virginia Tech, or even small-scale like Ward Parkway, the first knee-jerk reaction is to ban the guns. Take all the guns away, and the world can leave in peace, harmony and unicorns.
So, pass more laws. Make the wait time longer, the screening process more stringent, have more classes and training for those who want to own. Set the bar higher for law-abiding citizens to obtain a gun. I have no issues with that. In fact, I would even support legislation barring anyone with a mental illness from owning a firearm. Harsh, maybe. Infringe on the privacy of one's medical records, perhaps. I'm perfectly okay with that.
Maybe if laws were in place that prohibited Schizophrenic Stanley from buying a gun, Virginia Tech and Ward Parkway could have been avoided. Actually, they probably would have been avoided if assholes in government wouldn't have slashed funding to mentally ill treatment and programs so people like Cho and Logsdon could have gotten proper help, instead of finding their therapy in a hail of gunfire.
But what about those people who get guns without going through the proper channels? Those with felonies who also happen to own one. Drug dealers? I'm sure they are not registered (unless they are registered sex offenders). I'm pretty confident most those people bought their guns from some dumbass who sells them from the trunk of his car, his main source of income while he's trying to get his rap career off the ground. Pass thousands of gun control laws, and these people will still be able to buy guns as easily as I can go to Hi-Vee and buy a loaf of bread.
Not everyone is gun-owner material. Owning a gun is an immense responsibility. Just because the constitution says we can, doesn't mean we have to. I grew up around guns, my father was an avid hunter and sportsman. My brothers and I were brought up with the clear understanding of what they meant, what they could do...complete with a reverent demeanor when we were handling them (i.e. no clowning around). My brothers own guns. I do not (but I have been through gun safety classes anyway). It's a personal choice we all must make, but not a choice we have to force upon everyone else.
We do need gun control, but focus on the ones who shouldn't have them, and not the law-abiding citizens who do. We also need to remember personal accountability and that guns don't kill people, people kill people. Take away all the guns in the world, people will still be murdered in senseless acts of violence. People will have to find something else to blame instead of blaming it on the asshat that caused it. We've turned into a nation of pussies with no personal responsibility. A country of victims, and it makes me ill.
I used to be a strong advocate of gun control for a couple days before I thought about it. Whenever there is a shooting of the magnitude of Virginia Tech, or even small-scale like Ward Parkway, the first knee-jerk reaction is to ban the guns. Take all the guns away, and the world can leave in peace, harmony and unicorns.
So, pass more laws. Make the wait time longer, the screening process more stringent, have more classes and training for those who want to own. Set the bar higher for law-abiding citizens to obtain a gun. I have no issues with that. In fact, I would even support legislation barring anyone with a mental illness from owning a firearm. Harsh, maybe. Infringe on the privacy of one's medical records, perhaps. I'm perfectly okay with that.
Maybe if laws were in place that prohibited Schizophrenic Stanley from buying a gun, Virginia Tech and Ward Parkway could have been avoided. Actually, they probably would have been avoided if assholes in government wouldn't have slashed funding to mentally ill treatment and programs so people like Cho and Logsdon could have gotten proper help, instead of finding their therapy in a hail of gunfire.
But what about those people who get guns without going through the proper channels? Those with felonies who also happen to own one. Drug dealers? I'm sure they are not registered (unless they are registered sex offenders). I'm pretty confident most those people bought their guns from some dumbass who sells them from the trunk of his car, his main source of income while he's trying to get his rap career off the ground. Pass thousands of gun control laws, and these people will still be able to buy guns as easily as I can go to Hi-Vee and buy a loaf of bread.
Not everyone is gun-owner material. Owning a gun is an immense responsibility. Just because the constitution says we can, doesn't mean we have to. I grew up around guns, my father was an avid hunter and sportsman. My brothers and I were brought up with the clear understanding of what they meant, what they could do...complete with a reverent demeanor when we were handling them (i.e. no clowning around). My brothers own guns. I do not (but I have been through gun safety classes anyway). It's a personal choice we all must make, but not a choice we have to force upon everyone else.
We do need gun control, but focus on the ones who shouldn't have them, and not the law-abiding citizens who do. We also need to remember personal accountability and that guns don't kill people, people kill people. Take away all the guns in the world, people will still be murdered in senseless acts of violence. People will have to find something else to blame instead of blaming it on the asshat that caused it. We've turned into a nation of pussies with no personal responsibility. A country of victims, and it makes me ill.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Need a Translator!
You owe a nigga? You don't wanna pay him?
Kill him, that's what they said ta ta disappear him
Y'all ain't got to believe me
When I'm done with this rhyme if theres time I'll hit a flick
Wit Mariella this connect bitch, Peruvian chick
She ain't hot but everytime I fuck the coke right drops
When it's time to get it on (what)
I pull over the thong (uh huh)
Fuck till I nut then get up, I'm gone (yeah)
Usualy hit it watchin tele way out in L.A.
I like it when she say "Papi I feel it in my Belly"
Call up all my niggaz in New York on the celly
First thing I'm sayin is "Nigga what da deally"
Pack a trey pound up under my Pelle Pelle
Y'all niggaz want war, clap clap, Oh really?
I watch niggaz slang packs in front of the deli
Got 20 inch chrome sittin on my perili
Lorenzo on the Benzo nigga you feel me?
50 Cent "You Ain't No Gangsta"
Get a blunt, roll the weed, light it up nigga,
Sipping on Gin and Juice fill up your cups nigga,
The Westcoast back crackin' like it's 94',
So bitch get on your knees and give me head like it's 94',
And don't come up for air 'til the beat drop,
I'm the Doctors Advocate call it a sneak peak,
at the mudafukn Detox, take note grab a pen,
And let the world know the west is ridin' again,
I Graduated from Dre's school top of my class,
Treat my switches like my bitches got me dropping that ass,
Still bangin' the chronic like doggiestyle came with it,
And I roll a sticky on my bitch back while I hit it,
I done been there, done that, had beefs and won that,
5 million records on 1 plaque I hung that,
Still got Dr. Dre low ridin' in the 64',
When you see us, throw it up for the fukin' Westcoast.
The Game "California Vacation"
Now you know and I know
Rule number one, you can't trust no ho
Now you can get caught up in the mix real fast
The ho gon' slip away and get away with all your cash
You got to stay upon your toes when it come to hos
I bust a brand new ho in every video
That's on the Pound and the Row when the wind blow
I pass a ho to my kinfolk
and then smoke
She say she was no groupie, coochie lookin juicy
She say she never ate a dick before but she gon' do me
Right before she do me, I blaze up a lupi
then turn on some Snoopy and, uhh, heat up jacuzzi
and later on I might just turn on a movie
so you can regroupie and redo me just for Snoopy
Snoop Dogg "Groupie"
"That's some nappy-headed hos there. I'm gonna tell you that now, man, that's some -- woo. And the girls from Tennessee, they all look cute, you know, so, like -- kinda like -- I don't know."
Don Imus: Imus in the Morning, April 4, 2007
Thank GOD they fired Don Imus. This sexist and racist pig was the biggest wrench in the machine of equality for all mankind. Had he not been fired, I'm confident that he would set the women's movement back 50 years. Lord only knows what he would have done to the African American population.
You may now return to your regularly scheduled programming.
Monday, April 09, 2007
When "I told you so" just seems so obvious...
What did I tell you? Sometimes, it hurts to be right.
Money says the family will be putting up the for sale sign by the end of the year.
Money says the family will be putting up the for sale sign by the end of the year.
Monday, April 02, 2007
Way to Represent!!
After a two-hour long spiel from the water softener guy who came to my house (I did end up buying a system, in case you were wondering), I skimmed through the channels to see what was on. The Bachelor was on channel 9, and just like any other tragic, mangled car accident on I-70, I had to stop and look.
Fortunately, I only caught the tail end, thereby saving me from watching a bunch of famewhore pinheads flip their hair, laugh at lame jokes and witticisms, and subtly (or not subtly) convey to the bachelor in question that they put out on the first date...and they take it in the butt.
No, I only got to see the Most. Dramatic. Rose. Ceremony. Ever. It's always fun to watch the rejects. Some cry, some shrug and move on with life, some are relieved. Or, someone has a complete psychotic breakdown. Lindsay, from Lawrence, Kansas. Crying, cursing, and just an overall sore loser. She confirmed pretty much what everyone has suspected about people from Lawrence.
They are completely insane.
So, here's to you, Lindsay, for setting a fine example, and representing the town who is desperately trying to rid itself of it's already crappy reputation. I'm sure the university won't think you are a complete idiot. Guys won't have to date you first before they find out you are Psycho Girlfriend because, thanks to your toddler tantrum on television, they will already know.
This is still the lamest show on the planet.
Fortunately, I only caught the tail end, thereby saving me from watching a bunch of famewhore pinheads flip their hair, laugh at lame jokes and witticisms, and subtly (or not subtly) convey to the bachelor in question that they put out on the first date...and they take it in the butt.
No, I only got to see the Most. Dramatic. Rose. Ceremony. Ever. It's always fun to watch the rejects. Some cry, some shrug and move on with life, some are relieved. Or, someone has a complete psychotic breakdown. Lindsay, from Lawrence, Kansas. Crying, cursing, and just an overall sore loser. She confirmed pretty much what everyone has suspected about people from Lawrence.
They are completely insane.
So, here's to you, Lindsay, for setting a fine example, and representing the town who is desperately trying to rid itself of it's already crappy reputation. I'm sure the university won't think you are a complete idiot. Guys won't have to date you first before they find out you are Psycho Girlfriend because, thanks to your toddler tantrum on television, they will already know.
This is still the lamest show on the planet.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Extreme Makeover: Dumbass Edition
Would I be the only person in the northern hemisphere to think that ABC is ran by a bunch of retards?
Like most everyone else in KC, I was glad to see the EM crew go away. I was tired of hearing about it. Really. You'd be watching TV when late breaking news would cut into whatever show you were watching, to announce that Ty Pennington installed the bathtub. OHMYGOD! Ty Pennington installed a bathtub...RIGHT HERE IN KANSAS CITY!!!!
So, we have a family that would more than likely meet the criteria for what would constitute "poverty level" considering their size. They are also caring for a truck full of other children who belong to a relative who for whatever reasons I'd be curious to know, has lost custody of said children. I can commend the family for stepping up to the plate to take the kids in. Most people, if faced with that same situation, would do likewise. I'd do the same for my brother's kids...after I beat my brother for being a moron, and bad father.
Dad works a blue collar job...overworked and underpaid, I'm sure. Mom stays at home and cares for 12-person household. They live in a house that is 900 square feet (the average size of most apartments). It's probably safe to say that size of the house, while problematic, was probably not the most pressing matter in their lives. Twelve people on one income, and more than likely some government assistance tossed in.
So, here comes ABC with their trucks and video cameras. The family is sent away to some vacation in Florida...all expenses paid. The house is demolished, a 5,000 square foot house thrown up in it's place. It's fully loaded with all new crap, electronics, furniture, and a shit-ton of stuff that most normal people don't have in their own homes.
Oh yeah...a brand new Mustang, Expedition, and pick-up truck sit in the driveway. We've gone from humble to gluttony in the matter of 96 hours.
Now, here is the part that baffles me.
Nothing has really changed with the family dynamic. Still one income that hasn't changed, still 12 people living off it. While the most ugliest new house I've ever seen is nice, big, shiny and everyone has space to spare, the big problem...the one problem that I am sure everyone has overlooked is that this family is now going to have to pay taxes and maintenance on all of this. House, cars, vacation. More money involved in maintaining this new lifestyle. I'm pretty sure there's a big difference in the gas bill between a 900 square foot house and a 5,000 square foot house.
I'm certain that ABC will step in and pay for it, just the way Oprah paid the taxes on all those cars she "gave" away. Oh wait...she didn't.
Now, I'm reading that donations are being solicited so the family can keep this house. Are you kidding me?!? Thousands have already been collected. Call me an asshole, but I'm not going to be whipping out my checkbook anytime soon. ABC created this monster, they should be the ones who exclusively deal with it. In the long run, it seems to me that they might have made this family's life worse instead of better. Instead of maybe teaching the family a better way to fish, ABC just gave them a brand new frying pan, no pole, no instructions on how to catch fish, plus a short deadline as to when they had to have dinner ready for Uncle Sam.
Eventually, people are going to stop donating when they have to tighten their own budgets, and really can't see why they should pay for someone elses house when their own house is at risk of being foreclosed upon. When this happens, and there is no more money coming in, the family of 12 will have to sell. And when they have to sell it, who's going to buy? The price will be inflated because it was an Extreme Makeover house, but no one is going to buy because A. The market sucks and B. So does the neighborhood it was built in.
Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go turn my thermostat down and have a bologna sandwich.
Like most everyone else in KC, I was glad to see the EM crew go away. I was tired of hearing about it. Really. You'd be watching TV when late breaking news would cut into whatever show you were watching, to announce that Ty Pennington installed the bathtub. OHMYGOD! Ty Pennington installed a bathtub...RIGHT HERE IN KANSAS CITY!!!!
So, we have a family that would more than likely meet the criteria for what would constitute "poverty level" considering their size. They are also caring for a truck full of other children who belong to a relative who for whatever reasons I'd be curious to know, has lost custody of said children. I can commend the family for stepping up to the plate to take the kids in. Most people, if faced with that same situation, would do likewise. I'd do the same for my brother's kids...after I beat my brother for being a moron, and bad father.
Dad works a blue collar job...overworked and underpaid, I'm sure. Mom stays at home and cares for 12-person household. They live in a house that is 900 square feet (the average size of most apartments). It's probably safe to say that size of the house, while problematic, was probably not the most pressing matter in their lives. Twelve people on one income, and more than likely some government assistance tossed in.
So, here comes ABC with their trucks and video cameras. The family is sent away to some vacation in Florida...all expenses paid. The house is demolished, a 5,000 square foot house thrown up in it's place. It's fully loaded with all new crap, electronics, furniture, and a shit-ton of stuff that most normal people don't have in their own homes.
Oh yeah...a brand new Mustang, Expedition, and pick-up truck sit in the driveway. We've gone from humble to gluttony in the matter of 96 hours.
Now, here is the part that baffles me.
Nothing has really changed with the family dynamic. Still one income that hasn't changed, still 12 people living off it. While the most ugliest new house I've ever seen is nice, big, shiny and everyone has space to spare, the big problem...the one problem that I am sure everyone has overlooked is that this family is now going to have to pay taxes and maintenance on all of this. House, cars, vacation. More money involved in maintaining this new lifestyle. I'm pretty sure there's a big difference in the gas bill between a 900 square foot house and a 5,000 square foot house.
I'm certain that ABC will step in and pay for it, just the way Oprah paid the taxes on all those cars she "gave" away. Oh wait...she didn't.
Now, I'm reading that donations are being solicited so the family can keep this house. Are you kidding me?!? Thousands have already been collected. Call me an asshole, but I'm not going to be whipping out my checkbook anytime soon. ABC created this monster, they should be the ones who exclusively deal with it. In the long run, it seems to me that they might have made this family's life worse instead of better. Instead of maybe teaching the family a better way to fish, ABC just gave them a brand new frying pan, no pole, no instructions on how to catch fish, plus a short deadline as to when they had to have dinner ready for Uncle Sam.
Eventually, people are going to stop donating when they have to tighten their own budgets, and really can't see why they should pay for someone elses house when their own house is at risk of being foreclosed upon. When this happens, and there is no more money coming in, the family of 12 will have to sell. And when they have to sell it, who's going to buy? The price will be inflated because it was an Extreme Makeover house, but no one is going to buy because A. The market sucks and B. So does the neighborhood it was built in.
Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go turn my thermostat down and have a bologna sandwich.
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Morning Drive Home
This morning, I got off work and was very excited about going home and going to bed. So, I'm tooling down northbound I-35 and prepare to get onto 70, except there's orange cones everywhere, most of them already driven over. I-70 is CLOSED. A couple cars almost drove over more cones, meanwhile, a late model Civic in 80's teal just sat there, contemplating their next move. They sat there for quite a while.
No signs warning traffic about the close. No detour signs. All leaving bleary-eyed people like me meandering downtown looking for a way out, or a Starbucks.
Kansas City roadwork at it's finest.
So, I had to try to navigate around downtown in an effort to take me the eastern side so I could find a place to get on the open part of 70 (apparently, they were only working on the part that goes under Bartle Hall and beside the Fruit Bowl (aka Sprint Center). This was a challenge as well because everything around that area is closed, torn up...all in the name of beautification for the KC Power and Light District. I hate you, Kay Barnes.
I drove, and drove. I ended up by the Folgers Plant. Drove past the Fruit Bowl three times. Finally, I ended up on Truman road going east, crossing such delightful areas like Holmes, Paseo, Prospect. I had no fear, however. Thugs involved in that gang war were sleeping in on a Saturday. That's how it works...they shoot each other into the late hours of the night, they go to bed, sleep in, and rap about it when they wake up...which is never before lunchtime.
I finally found a ramp to get on 70, and I made it home to the warm confines of my bed.
Tonight is Daylight Savings Time, which means I will be working for eleven hours instead of twelve. The downside is that I have to use an hour of PTO to make up the difference.
Don't forget to set your clocks ahead! Hopefully, we won't have a small global meltdown.
No signs warning traffic about the close. No detour signs. All leaving bleary-eyed people like me meandering downtown looking for a way out, or a Starbucks.
Kansas City roadwork at it's finest.
So, I had to try to navigate around downtown in an effort to take me the eastern side so I could find a place to get on the open part of 70 (apparently, they were only working on the part that goes under Bartle Hall and beside the Fruit Bowl (aka Sprint Center). This was a challenge as well because everything around that area is closed, torn up...all in the name of beautification for the KC Power and Light District. I hate you, Kay Barnes.
I drove, and drove. I ended up by the Folgers Plant. Drove past the Fruit Bowl three times. Finally, I ended up on Truman road going east, crossing such delightful areas like Holmes, Paseo, Prospect. I had no fear, however. Thugs involved in that gang war were sleeping in on a Saturday. That's how it works...they shoot each other into the late hours of the night, they go to bed, sleep in, and rap about it when they wake up...which is never before lunchtime.
I finally found a ramp to get on 70, and I made it home to the warm confines of my bed.
Tonight is Daylight Savings Time, which means I will be working for eleven hours instead of twelve. The downside is that I have to use an hour of PTO to make up the difference.
Don't forget to set your clocks ahead! Hopefully, we won't have a small global meltdown.
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