Do you find yourself inclined to solve murder mysteries in large luxurious homes to which you, let me finish, to which you may or may not have been invited?
blah blah blah and now suddenly the kitties and I are at Break Boy’s and HLW’s house! Yay! There are a few things left at the apartment that Break Boy is helping me move tonight. Tomorrow I’ll go back by myself to make sure it’s clean there and then I’m all done living in the house of crazy.
The girls are secluded in a very large room of the house, tucked behind an office, so the square footage total is (um, I’m bad at this) perhaps 200 square feet? I dunno, huge enough for 3 cats to roam. Ripley keeps jumping out into the hallway, wandering into the bathroom, then running back into the office/guest room when she realizes the house is A LOT bigger outside the door.
Allie and Georgie are randomly making appearances from unknown hiding spots. They are overwhelmed, but they’re excited to have new things to smell and play in and topple over.
Break Boy has informed me that we are going to watch So You Think You Can Dance? tonight, which will be the first time I’ve seen the show on actual television for this entire season.
I seriously should have moved in about a month ago, it’s great there!
Is it time to go yet? Is it time to go yet? Is it time to go yet? Is it time to go yet? Is it time to go yet? Is it time to go yet? Is it time to go yet? Is it time to go yet? Is it time to go yet? Is it time to go yet? Is it time to go yet? Is it time to go yet? Is it time to go yet? Is it time to go yet? Is it time to go yet? Is it time to go yet? Is it time to go yet? Is it time to go yet? Is it time to go yet? Is it time to go yet? Is it time to go yet? Is it time to go yet? Is it time to go yet? Is it time to go yet? Is it time to go yet? Is it time to go yet? Is it time to go yet? Is it time to go yet? Is it time to go yet? Is it time to go yet?
You know what I’m talking about… It’s that span of time during which you are promised a representative from a company will show up to your house to install, repair, remove, or troubleshoot something. You take time you don’t have off from work to sit at home and hope someone shows up during “the window”. If they do show up it’s almost always at the tail end of the window, or some uncomfortable amount of time past the end of the window, so you still spend a bunch of time being sure they wouldn’t show. If they don’t you pound your fist in the air and yell, “I told you so!” to no one in particular.
And even if we work in a job where we are one of The Window People, we all know more often than not we personally have wasted a lot of time waiting for people who never show up, juuuust like being stood up for a date or waiting for a phone call that never actually happens.
It is not good customer service. It should be banned. It’s a lose-lose.
This post was inspired by Jen. If you don’t read Jen then you don’t like space. If you don’t like space then … um, what’s wrong with you?
It was another fantastic weekend with Dawg, extra special because he shared my birthday with me. When it was time to go on Sunday he packed up all of his things and we exchanged Squishy Dawg (who is now with me) for Squishy Octopie (who is now with Dawg) so that prying kid hands wouldn’t damage Octopie’s exposed brain (long story, but we’ve decided we need to get him a helmet rather than a thread and needle session) but I still have someone to squish and converse with.
We both had our hands piled high with things for Dawg to take with him, at which point I asked him, “are you planning to come back inside?” He gave me a confused look. “Ripley,” I whispered. Dawg set all of his things back down and went to say goodbye to her. She was not having that and gave him the “you are NOT leaving me!” cold shoulder. He did his best to say goodbye to her then we gathered his things and said our goodbyes at the truck.
I walked back into the house and the scent of his body spray was strong at the door. Ripley was purring and dancing and looking anxiously up at me from the entryway floor. I burst into tears, scooped her up, and said, “I’m sorry, mama, but he’s gone.” I nuzzled her and hugged her tight while she purred her anxious purr and swallowed a bunch of times, headbutting me until she got all of her anxiety out. “I promise you, soon you will see D every day. He will leave for the day but he will come back and give you hugs and kisses. I promise, little girl, I promise.”
Content that what I had just said was an acceptable future for her, she hopped down, sauntered over to the kitchen, then jumped into her window box and went back to dreaming…
Thursday at work I suddenly felt like I needed music to complete the task of writing the master schedule for an event that happens at the end of August when I’m not at work anymore, but … um, it’s still my job to do it so I did it. (If you think I am just sitting around twiddling my thumbs at work until next Friday you’d be wrong.) I had one whole song on the hard drive, Milk and Cereal by G Love and Special Sauce, but I felt I needed more to get me through to the end of the scheduling project. I remembered how much I enjoyed Mercy by Duffy in the contemporary dance piece choreographed by Mia Michaels so I went to iTunes and listened to a few more songs from that album and decided I liked it enough to buy it.
Then I clicked on the New Releases page and bought the new Booka Shade and CSS albums.
“What am I doing? I’m bingeing on music!”
And then I realized what I was actually doing: I was buying myself birthday presents. This tradition is handed down to me from my maternal grandmother who buys most of her Christmas and birthday presents for herself months in advance, then has her children pay her for the gifts, wrap the gifts, and give them to her. I am my grandmother’s granddaughter.
Other things my grandmother does or has done that are endearing to me:
1. She used to smoke one cigarette a week on a rock at a local bay to clear her head.
2. She has not been with a man since she divorced my grandfather in (some year before he died, which was before I was born) but she has a 6-foot-tall poster of John Wayne in her bedroom — hubba hubba!
3. She randomly brings up the topic of sex with my cousin who is 6-ish years my junior. If you met my grandmother you totally wouldn’t expect that word to come out of her mouth, let alone that entire topic.
4. She loves animals as much as I do.
5. She has a nickname for each of her kids and grandkids. Mine’s just “Steffie” but the way she says it is priceless.
6. She used to clean the museum I grew up going to. I love that museum. I am proud that my grandmother is a part of that memory for me, that history for everyone.
7. She makes me cakes for my birfdy, and she tells me there’s a present for me in the back room. She gives the most random presents of anyone I’ve ever known, and I that about her!
8. She used to go for rides with her dog Sundown to watch the buffalo roam. She can’t drive now so she has my uncle take her.
9. She can get very feisty about topics for which feist doesn’t generally seem necessary. (Sound familiar? *pointing at self*)
10. Her favorite game to play is Sorry!.