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This and That...
On Paying the Price for Summer
At the beginning of the summer, I decided on a path of, "Screw housework. Life is too short."
Unfortunately, due to a series of events, I decided that paying for a cleaning crew to come in twice month was not a financially intelligent move on my part. Cue me keeping the house clean enough to keep the cockroaches away, but that's about it.
Not helping my cause over the past few weeks is that work just got insane, which means that my minimalist approach to housekeeping has become more so.
Making it worse is that thanks to a summer of kayaking, my stamina has gone through the roof. If I don't get in at least 45 minutes to an hour of cardio a day (even if it's a fast walk around the block), I don't sleep. Period.
Yet despite eating healthy and keeping my calorie count to a level that would have me losing 1.5 pounds a week without exercise, I still look like a freaking butterball.
On the other hand, (as I discovered) I can outlast and outrace even grown men in a kayak. Go figure.
Anyway, while it's been a fun (but horribly busy in a I'm-never-home-even-during-the-week kind of way), I am now left with dust bunnies that are on the verge of of sentience. I've already caught a few doing the hunting-and-gathering thing in broad daylight.
What finally cut it for me is that just a few days ago, I caught a dust bunny attempting to invent the wheel (it was kind of squarish, but I think he was close to a breakthrough). That's nothing compared to his buddy, the dust bunny who was well on her way to inventing fire!
Right. Time to wave the white flag and Do Something.
In Which Our Heroine Attempts the Worst Room in the House
My office. It's the place where I chuck clutter, which attracts a layer of dust that's so dusty that everything looks like it's got a grey film.
To say that my office looks like it's straight out of a schizophrenic mind is a bit of an understatement.
It doesn't help that the dust bunnies in that room have organized and invented religion. They're on the verge of a religious war right now, in fact.
(The Veriozonists believe that my wireless FIoS router is the source of life, probably because of the blinking green lights. The HPists believe that the computer is the source of life, mostly because it makes noises and occasionally speaks. The Bookists have been making dust bunny sacrifices to my book cases, whose claim to deity-hood have something to do with size I expect. I won't get into the CDists and the Empty Boxists, as they are too small in number to count.)
Needless to say, it's been a hard slog, and I haven't even gotten to that one closet where I threw my stuff I'd deal with "later" when I moved into this apartment 5 years ago.
On the upside, I found a 1943 Mercury Dime under my desk. I have no clue where it came from, but it's mine now!
The Accidental Ocean Kayaker
What has not helped my progress with the Office of Religious Dust Bunny Warfare is that through a series of complicated and convoluted events I, in the company of one of my co-workers and her family, wound up accidentally doing some ocean kayaking yesterday.
You must wonder how that's possible. It's not like you can go rowing in some random spot and accidentally end up in an ocean environment. Oceans are pretty big things, and not subject to picking up and changing location on a whim. I mean, it's not like the Atlantic Ocean goes, "Hmmmm, this spot of Massachusetts coast is all fine and well, but I'm bored. Let's check out how things are a little bit more inland. I hear the Berkshires are nice this time of year."
However, it is possible to find yourself unexpectedly battling the pull of the Atlantic and 1- to 1.5-foot swells. Swells, I might add, that are breaking over the bow of your 16-foot-long Wilderness Systems Tsunami 165 (with rudder, which you suddenly discover is the Best Thing Ever instead of the Useless Piece of Hardware I Never Use).
I won't get into dodging speeding yachts and power boats that can't actually see your little floatilla of desperate souls wondering what the fuck happened to turn what looked like a pretty placid piece of salt water into a wind-whipping not-so-good time.
For the beginning kayaker my ass.
But how I got myself into such a predicament (even though I kicked the ass of just about every man in and all of the women in the group) is a long story for another day.
I have to admit that today I hurt. Turns out there are some muscles in my upper back and chest (not to mention by biceps and triceps) that are Not Happy about the adventure, which is making my cleaning even less fun than I thought it would be.
Who thought that was possible?
Diving into the Crazy
I won't be finishing my office today, either. In a few hours, I'll be pulling my shit together and going to my congresscritter's town hall meeting.
In theory, healthcare won't be on the agenda. In reality, you bet your bippy that it will be. I expect the crazies to be out in full force, which means that I better get my ass there as a counterbalance.
One good thing about being in Massachusetts. No one'll be packing heat. That shit'll get the police doing more than just frowning at you for your faux pas around here. There's something to be said for that.
Although my congresscritter is on record for healthcare reform and a public option. While I expect he'll be patient about explaining his position, I suspect he won't put up with him or anyone else getting shouted down by the out-of-district lunatics in the back.
Either way, I'll be back to report the LULZ.
ETA: A Mystery
Also, I forgot to add this...
While watching Project Runway this week (Shut up! I'm all about the Gunn...) Lifetime was doing some ad for the "September Secrets" over on the Lifetime Movie Network. Usually I don't bother paying attention for the ads, but this is one of the few times I happened to be watching the screen. I swear I saw Nicholas Brendon in one of the clips, or an actor that looked an awful lot like him.
Just thought I'd throw it out there, because *hands* I dunno what to say about that.
Now, I really must (ugh) get back to cleaning.
Wish me luck. The broom of Divine Sweeping is sure to cause angst among the dust bunnies this day.
At the beginning of the summer, I decided on a path of, "Screw housework. Life is too short."
Unfortunately, due to a series of events, I decided that paying for a cleaning crew to come in twice month was not a financially intelligent move on my part. Cue me keeping the house clean enough to keep the cockroaches away, but that's about it.
Not helping my cause over the past few weeks is that work just got insane, which means that my minimalist approach to housekeeping has become more so.
Making it worse is that thanks to a summer of kayaking, my stamina has gone through the roof. If I don't get in at least 45 minutes to an hour of cardio a day (even if it's a fast walk around the block), I don't sleep. Period.
Yet despite eating healthy and keeping my calorie count to a level that would have me losing 1.5 pounds a week without exercise, I still look like a freaking butterball.
On the other hand, (as I discovered) I can outlast and outrace even grown men in a kayak. Go figure.
Anyway, while it's been a fun (but horribly busy in a I'm-never-home-even-during-the-week kind of way), I am now left with dust bunnies that are on the verge of of sentience. I've already caught a few doing the hunting-and-gathering thing in broad daylight.
What finally cut it for me is that just a few days ago, I caught a dust bunny attempting to invent the wheel (it was kind of squarish, but I think he was close to a breakthrough). That's nothing compared to his buddy, the dust bunny who was well on her way to inventing fire!
Right. Time to wave the white flag and Do Something.
In Which Our Heroine Attempts the Worst Room in the House
My office. It's the place where I chuck clutter, which attracts a layer of dust that's so dusty that everything looks like it's got a grey film.
To say that my office looks like it's straight out of a schizophrenic mind is a bit of an understatement.
It doesn't help that the dust bunnies in that room have organized and invented religion. They're on the verge of a religious war right now, in fact.
(The Veriozonists believe that my wireless FIoS router is the source of life, probably because of the blinking green lights. The HPists believe that the computer is the source of life, mostly because it makes noises and occasionally speaks. The Bookists have been making dust bunny sacrifices to my book cases, whose claim to deity-hood have something to do with size I expect. I won't get into the CDists and the Empty Boxists, as they are too small in number to count.)
Needless to say, it's been a hard slog, and I haven't even gotten to that one closet where I threw my stuff I'd deal with "later" when I moved into this apartment 5 years ago.
On the upside, I found a 1943 Mercury Dime under my desk. I have no clue where it came from, but it's mine now!
The Accidental Ocean Kayaker
What has not helped my progress with the Office of Religious Dust Bunny Warfare is that through a series of complicated and convoluted events I, in the company of one of my co-workers and her family, wound up accidentally doing some ocean kayaking yesterday.
You must wonder how that's possible. It's not like you can go rowing in some random spot and accidentally end up in an ocean environment. Oceans are pretty big things, and not subject to picking up and changing location on a whim. I mean, it's not like the Atlantic Ocean goes, "Hmmmm, this spot of Massachusetts coast is all fine and well, but I'm bored. Let's check out how things are a little bit more inland. I hear the Berkshires are nice this time of year."
However, it is possible to find yourself unexpectedly battling the pull of the Atlantic and 1- to 1.5-foot swells. Swells, I might add, that are breaking over the bow of your 16-foot-long Wilderness Systems Tsunami 165 (with rudder, which you suddenly discover is the Best Thing Ever instead of the Useless Piece of Hardware I Never Use).
I won't get into dodging speeding yachts and power boats that can't actually see your little floatilla of desperate souls wondering what the fuck happened to turn what looked like a pretty placid piece of salt water into a wind-whipping not-so-good time.
For the beginning kayaker my ass.
But how I got myself into such a predicament (even though I kicked the ass of just about every man in and all of the women in the group) is a long story for another day.
I have to admit that today I hurt. Turns out there are some muscles in my upper back and chest (not to mention by biceps and triceps) that are Not Happy about the adventure, which is making my cleaning even less fun than I thought it would be.
Who thought that was possible?
Diving into the Crazy
I won't be finishing my office today, either. In a few hours, I'll be pulling my shit together and going to my congresscritter's town hall meeting.
In theory, healthcare won't be on the agenda. In reality, you bet your bippy that it will be. I expect the crazies to be out in full force, which means that I better get my ass there as a counterbalance.
One good thing about being in Massachusetts. No one'll be packing heat. That shit'll get the police doing more than just frowning at you for your faux pas around here. There's something to be said for that.
Although my congresscritter is on record for healthcare reform and a public option. While I expect he'll be patient about explaining his position, I suspect he won't put up with him or anyone else getting shouted down by the out-of-district lunatics in the back.
Either way, I'll be back to report the LULZ.
ETA: A Mystery
Also, I forgot to add this...
While watching Project Runway this week (Shut up! I'm all about the Gunn...) Lifetime was doing some ad for the "September Secrets" over on the Lifetime Movie Network. Usually I don't bother paying attention for the ads, but this is one of the few times I happened to be watching the screen. I swear I saw Nicholas Brendon in one of the clips, or an actor that looked an awful lot like him.
Just thought I'd throw it out there, because *hands* I dunno what to say about that.
Now, I really must (ugh) get back to cleaning.
Wish me luck. The broom of Divine Sweeping is sure to cause angst among the dust bunnies this day.
no subject
I expect to see you next Sunday, yes?
no subject
no subject
Good luck with the dust bunnies. I understand your woes, last weekend I not only battled bunnies, but battled their offspring the dust monsters. I may have won the battle, but I believe they won the war against my allergies and stuffy head this week.
no subject
*checks listing*
Oh. According to the description on the LMN database, he is the evil one.
Still, I don't know. Lifetime movies are a lot like those ABC movies of the week when I was a kid. Y'know: The Woman in Danger Two-Hour Glower.
It usually goes:
Woman has perfect life. Perfect house. Perfect husband. Perfect kids. Perfect job. Perfect car. Perfect hair.
Male stranger moves into neighborhood/is hired at job/joins the PTA/becomes add-on for car pool. Male stranger is a White Guy who Seems Very Nice and Normal.
Within the first half-hour of the movie, Perfect Woman is pretty sure that there is Something Odd about the Male Stranger. She tells a few trusted friends/her husband/co-worker that her Radar is point to Something Not Right.
Perfect Woman is poo-poohed by everyone, pats on the head may or may not be included. Suggestions that she's being paranoid if not stated outright are implied.
Perfect Woman is getting increasingly freaked by Male Stranger, who's only getting his freak on when they're alone/when he thinks he's alone and not realizing that Perfect Woman is spying on him. Because of the pooh-poo, she's also Pissed At The World and acting Increasingly Irrational as she tries to get someone to believe her that Male Stranger is Dangerous.
Somewhere before the end of the first hour, husband/best friend agrees that Something Is Not Right, but that it's probably harmless and she's overreacting.
Perfect Woman acts Somewhat Mollified, but continues to Seethe because there's still pooh-pooing, even if the poo-poohing admits that she's Onto Something.
15 minutes into the second hour, Perfect Woman is kidnapped/held hostage/set up in a compromising position by Male Stranger/disappears without a trace.
Perfect Husband freaks out/is accused by police for doing something untoward towards Perfect Woman/falls into despair. Police accusations (when there are any) go completely against logic because no one looks at Male Stranger, despite the fact that we've just seen Perfect Woman for the past hour-plus go on and on and ON about the fact that there is Something Not Right With That Man.
After 5 minutes' angst, Perfect Husband decides to Do Something. He remembers that Perfect Woman had her beady eyes on Male Stranger. He starts Seeing that Perfect Woman was Right about Male Stranger, who is suddenly acting so all-out weird that people in other countries who've never even heard of Male Stranger are randomly calling up Perfect Husband to say, "Yup. The man is a dangerous nut."
Cue the rising orchestration of Perfect Husband setting a plan into motion to Do Something to the Male Stranger and Make Him Fess Up. Doesn't matter what the plan is, doesn't matter how much it stretches logic, and it doesn't matter that he's gone all Dirty Harry instead of bringing this stuff up to the police. All you need to know is that the Plan Works.
Male Stranger bwahahahahas/rubs his eeeeevil hands/confesses all/baldly states his evil plans for Perfect Woman/tells the Perfect Husband that it's out of revenge for Something. At this point Male Stranger may lie and claim Perfect Woman is dead.
Perfect Husband manages to kill Male Stranger/permanently put him in a wheelchair/cause brain damage requiring institutionalization/ties him up in chains as a gift-wrap for the police that have been sekritly tailing Perfect Husband.
In last 10 minutes, Perfect Woman is found Alive in a Secret Compartment under the floorboards/behind the closet/in the attic/in the basement. She may be Bleeding from the Nose or Head (but she wasn't raped because this is a wholesome family movie, damn it!).
Perfect Woman cries as Perfect Husband gathers her up in his Big Strong Arms and helps her out of her Prison. They exit stage left into the dark, a wise, stronger (and hopefully more suspicious) couple than they were before Male Stranger imposed himself on their lives.
You think I joke, but all the above is pretty much true.
2 things of note
Did you see the commercial for the dainty little hair trimming razor during project runway? The one that featured a small triangular piece of topiary that went from disordered to ordered?
I just HOWLED
Re: 2 things of note
All this while dodging drunks on yachts and speed boats.
Yeeeaaaaah. Falling out of the boat at that time would've sucked. I'm shocked that my co-worker and her family didn't end up treading water since they were beginners. The lead guide was apologetic because he admitted that he was tested by the whole thing (made me feel better).
But, yeah. The little hair trimming razor. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! You do not want to know my crude thoughts when I saw that.
no subject
-Reminds me of a Penn & Teller thing where they examined fat not necessesarily being \= to able to do athletic stuff. We make a lot of presumptions, culturally. I am of the opinion that we're going about all that wrong, but that's another topic.
What finally cut it for me is that just a few days ago, I caught a dust bunny attempting to invent the wheel (it was kind of squarish, but I think he was close to a breakthrough). That's nothing compared to his buddy, the dust bunny who was well on her way to inventing fire!
-Have you seen Spore? (The video game, not the drifty allergen-things) I found myself concerned about my own dust-bunnies and their tendency to erect small idols to drive off the dustmop when I was playing that.
no subject
By the time the tour was over, I was suddenly not only awesome-sauce, but one of the kayakers they picked to be the pathfinder through some really rough spots on the circuit so that the other kayakers could follow by just watching where I was going. *headdesk headdesk headdesk*
I mean, why the hell would I lie in that environment? It would be pretty easy to tell right off if I was fullashit or not, not to mention potentially dangerous given the unexpected situation that happened.
And it's really not the first time it's happened to me, either. Although it's usually in less extreme circumstances.
It's one of those things that have only recently started bothering me, but it's gone from like "don't even register" to "teeth-grinding" in the past few months.
no subject
Those in charge could require anyone entering to show their voter registration card to prove they are in your congressman's district.
no subject
Yes. Because limiting entrance to the people who can actually vote for the congresscritter regardless of said person's views is just like invading Poland.
Although I think they take down your name and address when you go in so that after-the-fact they can find out if the people attending actually came from the district. In the more liberal districts, they're finding that up to a third of the people taking up space in these town hall meetings are from out-of-district.
It really pisses me off (and would piss me off regardless of which side they're on). It's a large part of the reason why I haven't attended any of Barney Frank's equally close town hall meetings. He represents the congressional district next door, not mine.
no subject
no subject
I can see it now when I go back to work.
"Dude! How was your long weekend?"
"T (my coworker) tried to kill me. Then dust bunnies tried to kill me. You?"
no subject
(OK, technically I have two myself, but they're tiny. One's mostly devoted to food storage, the other's "OK, everything I don't use on a regular basis goes in here...")
no subject
I live in AZ-for some reason schools have become the new, cool place for town halls since we have a no weapons on campus policy. I went to the last one for Gab Giffords (D) AZ-O8-Low point "Obama is leading the country into socialism AND fascism". I keep waiting for the dueling banjos to start when the yeehaws started talking.
So far Az senators Kyle and McCain have either not held town halls (Kyle) or only held them with hand selected crowds (McCain). I give Gab alot of credit for standing up there and not losing it.
no subject
I watched Project Runway this week too... despite saying for ages I would never watch it. I thought Mitchell deserved to be cut; he just sort of flapped around after Ra'Mon, not really doing anything.
no subject
On the other hand, (as I discovered) I can outlast and outrace even grown men in a kayak. Go figure.
Hmm. You’re strong, your endurance is solid, you’re brimming with energy … it sounds as if you have the shape you’re supposed to have.
There are cultures over here that force-feed girls to make them plump, so they’ll be more ‘attractive’ (by local standards) and thus more marriageable. You happen to live in a society with a Kate Moss fixation. I’d say you’re probably healthier than the culture around you.
Veriozonists
I know what you mean about being strong. I'm five five and on the corner of curvy and fat, but I am HELLA strong. I regularly impress my male students by dragging their desks - with them in it - up to the board so they MUST pay attention.
I refer to it as mama muscle.