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What Comes Around

23 May

After working in property management for five years, I had developed a healthy loathing for most tenant complaints. I say healthy because it had not yet reached the point where I was shopping for “the perfect envelope” to mail flour in for my downward spiral into being a psychopath.

That trip to Crazytown aside, this weekend that proverbial shoe was firmly secured on the other foot. First the circuit breaker that controlled power to our entire second floor bit the dust. It penned a long, well thought out letter letting us know that we would soon be entering the second circle of hell and for us to remember to pack a snack. Thanks. Then the A/C died. Oh, hell. You’re so hot and humid…and hot. What’s up with that?

I knew better than to think that this was a precursor to this past weekends supposed apocalypse. I kindly turned down an offer from a homeless gentleman to wear a sandwich board claiming “the end was nye.” No, all those years of complaining about whining tenants had finally come back to bite me. In the rear. With teeth.

My first floor which usually doubles as a meat locker, heated up to 80 degrees. My second floor, which normally struggles to stay cool on a good day, got up into the mid-80’s. Oh, it all kinds of terrible. We all lazed about the downstairs trying to move as little as possible lest we create any unnecessary body heat. I would have laid down belly-first on the kitchen floor, but the dogs had beaten me to it. At least once an hour I attempted a call to my landlord who never answers the phone and most certainly never listens to a voice mail. He likes to let them build up until his voice mail box is bursting at the seams with pleas from his hapless tenants. Then, after they’ve marinated for a few days, he erases all the messages without listening to them to let the game begin anew. What can I say; I’ve got some resentment issues.

After 48 hours of sweating, and with no oldies to sweat to, we broke down and called our own technician to come out and fix the A/C. It was almost 9:00 at night on a Saturday. Oh yeah. We paid time and a half and had the air working again by 10. It was the best money Jordan and I have spent to date. Of course by then it was still in the 80’s and the kids were still awake. Thus they camped out downstairs and Jordan and I lay prone without moving all night upstairs. Thankfully it was back in the 70’s by morning.

Sunday was spent frolicking about the house, soaking in the cool air and generally cursing the name of our landlord. It was a great day.

Wiper Blades, Use #2

17 May

Ohmygoodness.  I’m back.  After an extended leave. Very extended.

I apologize for being away for so long, but life has done what life is best at:  It changes, usually without your consent.  So I’ve taken a few weeks off to adjust.  I’ve started a new job, moved into a new house.  All of which is stressful and exciting and stressful.  Yes, stressful was listed twice.  You know, for emphasis. [wink]

On the up side, there have been a few things to brag about.  All of which I’ll share with you in detail later. As a quick example: Fisher kicked his first goal during his last game of soccer last week.  Needless to say I was proud to the point of bursting.  But the mom holding the baby standing next to me wouldn’t have appreciated that, so I kept it together.  You’re welcome. 

In other news, I witness the most gloriously hilarious and nonsensical sight today while on the way back to the office from lunch:

While sitting at a red light I glanced behind me to see a mini van waiting behind me.  The gloriously hilarious part came from the van’s wiper blades.  They were both propped up to the point of obscuring the driver’s view.  What, pray tell, where they propped up on?  Half gallon cartons of strawberry ice cream.  Duh. 

Now I’m not sure why they were their, but I like to think that the driver’s microwave had died in the night and this was the next best way to thaw out frozen ice cream.  I’m sure that’s listed in a survival guide somewhere.  “Water, handy for hydration.  Mini van wiper blades?  Amazing at thawing ice cream while keep the carton affixed to the vehicle.”  It makes so much sense I can’t believe that I haven’t thought of it before. 

So, there you go.  My gift to you after a few weeks away.  If you’re ever in a pinch and need to thaw some ice cream fast while simultaneously bragging to your neighbors about the brand of ice cream you keep on hand, strap those puppies down under your wiper blades and go for a drive.  A few blocks should do it. 

Moot Point

11 Mar

I would feel ashamed to blog about anything today other than the catastrophic damage and loss of life that has effected Japan today.  My mind cannot seem to grasp the horror that is unfolding there now.  Thus today I will take a break out of respect to the suffering that is ensuing in the country of Japan.  My only hope is that lives can be saved and that Japan can have a swift recovery.

The Rules of Walking

31 Jan

In the face of a potentially epic winter storm starting this evening, let me tell you about how awesome the weather was on Saturday:

Seventy degrees.  In January.  In Oklahoma.  It was absolutely amazing.  Blue skies, slight breeze, and shorts that hadn’t been worn in months.  So, Jordan, the kids and I took the dogs on a long walk around the neighborhood.  Jaden and Fisher decided that they didn’t want to walk and road their Razor scooters instead.

The only thing that could have made out outing more perfect was if I had done the laundry the day before.  You see, I can always tell when I need to do laundry when I get down to my “attractive” but not ideally comfortable underwear.  (I’m sure that all my family reading this wanted to know that…just wait, it gets worse.)  Needless to say, I was not wearing the proper attire for a long walk.  Trying to stay positive about the situation, I decided to brag to Jordan about my “clothing options” for the day.  The kids  were ahead of us and I had a captive audience.

…so I lifted up the left side of my shorts to give Jordan  a peek.  Because I’m sexy that way.  [wink]  After flashing him, I turned my head to give him the obligatory wink that always follows these type of maneuvers.  And that is when I spotted the jogger coming up behind us.

Crap.

Note to self.  Scope out the neighborhood before you flash you husband with your “good” side.  Sorry random jogger who lives a few houses away.  I promise to not make eye contact with you when I pass you on the road.  Oh…and I’ll keep my shorts in place for now on.

Deuce

10 Jan

Today Jordan and I are celebrating our 2nd Wedding Anniversary. (!!!)

(Actually, we’ve been celebrating all weekend long in Fort Worth, TX.  But I’ll tell you all about that tomorrow.)

For the day I think I’ll just stick with making googly eyes at him whenever I see him.  That’s romantic stuff right there.  He’s a lucky man.  [wink]

Happy Anniversary, dearest.  These past two years have been sensational!  I couldn’t be who I am today without you.

Say what?

15 Sep

The kids have been bursting at the seems with comical remarks and ridiculous reasoning these past few weeks.  And far be it from me to keep them all to myself.  I rue the day they transform into sullen teenagers.  Curse you, puberty!   Puberty aside…moments like these should be shared while they last:

Fisher acquired a new teddy bear a few weeks ago.  It was originally a dog toy, but Fisher fell in love with it.  I would have denied him the request, but Jordan’s grandparents have yet to learn the word “No.”  Thus the once chew toy is now a beloved friend and bunk mate.  It has gone all this time without a name.  Fisher takes most of his toys at face value and names them obvious things like “teddy bear” and “soldier man.”  He calls it as he sees it.  However, this new teddy bear has reached the upper echelon of toy-hood and deserves a name fitting of his rank.  Fisher has named him “Chicken Breath.”  (which he pronounces as Chicken Bref)  Seriously.  I couldn’t make up a name like that.  Why such a name?  “Because he likes to eat chicken and hot sauce…..DEAD chicken.”  Well, that’s good to know.  I wouldn’t allow a stuffed bear to eat live chickens.  That would be rude.

Speaking of rude…Fisher’s concept of less versus more is a bit…off.  Last week Jordan had to referee between Jaden and Fisher when he found Jaden crying and Fisher looking rather guilty.

“Fisher…did you hit your sister?”

“NO! ……I punched her.”

Unfortunate for Fisher, he did not realize that he should have stuck with the accusation of hitting rather than punching.  *wink*  Well, there’s always next time.

Of course, I can’t end this post without a good Jaden story.  Women have rights, you know.  Her most memorable line came shortly after the big move.  We were all out to eat at a local chicken finger place when a group of airmen from a nearby air base came in.

“Look, Jaden, soldiers.  They defend our country against bad people.”

“….and robots!”

That’s right, Jaden.  You can’t forget those pesky robots.  What would the world be like without our men in arms?  Crawling with killer robots, apparently.

…..

Click to Enlarge

Since Fisher had two endearing stories and Jaden only had one, I figured a picture of her flying across a pool would balance things out.  ;)

Does it smell dead in here to you?

11 Jun

There is something dead in my office. 

I’m not sure where it is or even what it is, but my office smells of death.  How’s that for a way to kick off a post? 

The mysterious smell was preceded by an outbreak of fleas in the back of our office.  (It’s truly an exciting place to work.)  The office was bombed and all seemed well for a few days.  (Besides the fact that the office smelled like pesticides.)  Then a new smell emerged.  Nothing can expound upon the stench of rotting flesh more than 90+ degree heat & 100% humidity.  For days we’ve been searching for the source without any luck.  

Then yesterday I ventured into unused room in the back of the office.  It’s where empty filing folders go to die…and evidently other things as well.  As soon as I entered the room I knew I’d found the home of the smell.  Something somewhere had died…and it wasn’t a manilla envelope.  

Of course what I’d come for was stored away inside of a closet.  Anyone feel a jump-scare coming on?  I sure did.  I stood in front of those closet doors for a full 3 minutes trying to prepare myself for what might fall on my when I opened them.  Dead cat?  Possibly.  Dead opossum?  Even worse.  

Thankfully I was wrong.  I grabbed a handful of folders and ran before whatever had died came back to haunt me.  

The door to that room remains closed and no one has gotten up enough nerve to go back in there.  The smell still lingers.  I’m hoping it will magically disappear over the weekend.  *fingers crossed*  

I have the coolest job ever.  (Ahem) 

 

In other news… 

We’ll be making another trip out to Oklahoma next week to visit with Jordan’s family.  This time we’ll be riding in Jordan’s Saturn Vue, which means a lot more leg room than my Honda Civic.  Oh, my legs are happy.  Well, as happy as legs can be when they’re looking at an 18+ hour car ride.  

The dogs are coming with us, even though I swore last time that I’d never bring them on such a long trip again.  They’ll be traveling in still in their very own pet crates instead of in a pile on my lap.  My legs are excited about this as well.  Oh legs, I spoil y’all too much.  

Denny will be tranquilized and Lemon will probably howl all the way to Mississippi…but at least I won’t have to share my seat! 

Denny needs a seat belt too.