Lookit, it's like this: I didn't post anything for a long time, but you really must believe me when I say that you didn't want to hear from me. I've been walking around for three weeks twitching and muttering under my breath about mortgage underwriters. Is that the sort of thing you want to waste time reading on the internet? I didn't think so.
We move in to our new house next Friday. I don't think it's quite hit me yet that, yes, we are buying a house and that maybe I should, like, pack or something. It seems like only yesterday that I was bitching a blue streak about my last move, and here I am doing it again. I promise I won't make you look at any pictures of food processors and computer monitors this time. Although I might make you look at the stack of boxes that comprises Our New Television Experience. Somehow, and I'm not quite sure how this happened, I was hoodwinked by my husband into disregarding completely the notion of standard cable television, opting instead for a DirecTV system with accompanying TiVo. All I know is that Marc and I walked into BestBuy and after an hour of being dragged around the store by a short, terribly energetic young man who waved his arms and extolled the virtues of satellite television whilst I eyedballed the small print in the circular and said things like, "No, no. It says here that we should get a satellite dish, two satellite receivers, a DVR, and a DVD player for free," we walked out with a satellite dish, two satellite receivers, a DVR, and a DVD player, all for free, and Marc has been regarding me ever since with a certain kind of silent awe; the sort of awe that says, "How in the hell did you pull that off?" The only answer I have for him is that I was raised by my mother, the Queen Bargain Finder and Small-Print Reader of All the Land, and godammit, if I'm going to fork $80 every month for the privilege of having 38,492 channels -- of which I will watch approximately 6 -- there had better be some free shit involved.
Mostly, the last few weeks have been incredibly fast and anxious, what with the holidays approaching and the need for packing and the realization that Holy Shit We Are Buying a House, and I keep trying to jettison from my mind the tiny voice that says, "You and your husband know precisely dick about fixing things. What in christ's name are you going to do the first time something starts leaking?" My response, when I choose to acknowledge that voice, is that to get through this without losing my shit, I must believe with all my heart that nothing in the house will ever leak, crack, burst, collapse, or shatter. It's the only way.
Yesterday, my brother, Prince Bargain Finder and Buyer and Purveyor of All Manner of Outdoor Hauling and Excavating Equipment, purchased four used Wheel Horse riding lawn mowers, some of which are marked for use in his lawn service business. One of those mowers, however, has been earmarked for us, because now that we are going to own a half-acre of lawn, we need some sort of grass-cutting machine.
But who am I kidding? My brother did not purchase four Wheel Horse riding lawn mowers. My brother purchased four Wheel Horse tractors. TRACTORS. Very small tractors, but they are, in fact, tractors. Ours even has a plow (a fucking PLOW!) on the front for shoving snow around in the winter time. And I think, really, that this is quickly becoming one of the hardest things for me to accept: Next week, we will become not only homeowners, but tractor owners as well.
posted by Kate at 4:49 PM link/comments
Tuesday, November 16, 2004
Um, honey? Why are you posting pictures of unknown cats to this website? I mean, I'm not telling you you CAN'T post pictures of mystery cats, but ... just ... huh?
In unrelated news, would anyone like to see a bunch of photos of our soon-to-be-new house? Sure you would! *
* p.s. Photos were taken while the house was being inspected, so that stuff you see isn't ours. I just wanted to make it clear that I am in NO WAY RESPONSIBLE for the valances in the living room. Apparently, they were hand-sewn by the man who sold the house to its current/soon-former owners. There's a bit of curious history attached to this house.
posted by Kate at 10:41 AM link/comments
Monday, November 15, 2004
"You WILL do as I say..."
posted by Marc at 8:54 PM link/comments
Sunday, November 14, 2004
First off, everyone should go download the new Firefox web browser! I downloaded it the other day and I love it, anything but internet explorer thank you. I ran across this at oddtodd's site today, it is interesting a worth a peek. So, today I had the pleasure of spending the day watching the Browns not only lose to Pittsburgh, but to have to watch it in Pittsburgh with nothing but Steeler fans (gotta love family, especially when their team always kicks the ass of your team). It wouldn't have been so bad if I had more to cheer for then the opening kickoff!! I guess again I get to say "well there is always next year." Soon I am expecting another taunting from my brother who grew up in Virginia and Florida as I did, but some how is a HUGE Steelers fan and takes every chance he can to rub in a W. Now that I am done licking my wounds I shall take my leave......
posted by Marc at 10:24 PM link/comments
26 days until mmmmmmm, my very own hot tub!
posted by Marc at 10:20 PM link/comments
Friday, November 12, 2004
Is it my fault the cat thinks he is a camel stuck in a dessert and if he doesn't grasp that last bit of water above my dear wife's head it might be days and days before he sees another oasis (full glass-o-water)? Oh, for the record Nimbus loves me way more than he does you Foster(He has told me so on so many occasions I have lost count).
posted by Marc at 5:29 PM link/comments
Dear Marc,
As you know, we have four cats, and one of those particular cats, the one named Nimbus, is a Spoiled Little Shit. He gets to sleep and eat in our bedroom while the rest of the cats live in the basement * This is because he is Your Cat, and I have come to accept that as long as Nimbus lives with us, you and I will never sleep alone. When Nimbus is cold, I let him sleep on my chest or on my head. As I am a heavy sleeper, this does not bother me. I spend hours every week petting him the way he likes to be petted, and scratching that one spot behind his right ear. I would happily do anything for Nimbus, including feed him and give him water. However, Husband of Mine, you have made it abundantly clear that you prefer to feed Nimbus. I know this is because you are secretly afraid that if I start plopping down the cat chow, he will begin to like me better than you, which I find slightly insane, but then, you put up with my pathological fear of mimes, so it all comes out in the wash.
I’m afraid I must insist, my love, that when you say you are going to fill Nimbus’ food and water bowls before bedtime, you do so without exception. We both know that Nimbus is blessed with uncanny intelligence and ability to reason, two traits not possessed by other members of our feline brood. We both know, also, that I must have next to my head during sleeping hours a large cup filled with water, because I am perpetually parched. Let’s review: empty cat water bowl plus genius cat plus large cup of water on headboard. What sort of wacky hijinks could yield from this equation?
Well, for example, round about 2:45 a.m., while I am sleeping peacefully, Nimbus might realize that he’s thirsty, and then he might notice that there is no water in his bowl. After some careful thought, it might occur to him that hey! Kate always brings a cup of water in here, and that cup of water is on the headboard! All I have to do to get something to drink is to go over there and get the water out of the cup! Which is fine with me, really. I honestly don’t mind sharing my water with the cat.
There’s a small flaw in his plan, though. You might have noticed, Marc, that Nimbus does not have thumbs, and not-having-thumbs is the difference from being able to pick up a cup of water and well, not being able to pick up a cup of water. Nimbus, using his great powers of reasoning, might deduce that the only way to get some water is to stick his head inside the cup, but then he might realize that the cup is very tall, almost as tall as him, and so he might come to the conclusion that the only way to get the water is to get up on his hind legs and balance his front paws on the lip of the cup so as to achieve an optimum water-procuring angle. But you know what, Marc? Tragically, although our cat possesses great intelligence, he does not in fact possess working knowledge of physics, and do you know what happens when a 10-pound cat gets up on his hind legs and rests his front paws on the lip of a cup of water? The water spills, Marc, and because that cup of water is on the headboard, it and its contents – approximately 24 ounces of cold water – land on my head. And my chest. And the sheets. And the blankets. And the cat, who is so startled by this merry series of events that he bolts from the bed, digging his hind claws into my wet shoulder. And then, Marc, after all of this, which causes me to yelp and bolt upright, which wakes you from your sleep, you get out of bed to go to the bathroom, and when I ask you to bring me a towel when you return, you are annoyed because my yelping woke you up. Let us not forget what caused this circus in the first place, dear: The cat didn’t have any water in his bowl. Could you please give the cat some water? Thank you.
* Note for People Who Do Not Know Us: We do not abuse our cats. Three of our cats spend most of the time in the basement because Marc and I are living temporarily with Melinda, who is terribly allergic to cats. Our cats are not abused. The basement in question is a finished basement, and the cats have their own furniture, television, VCR, DVD player, and Playstation 2. Sometimes they even invite us to come down and hang out. These are not neglected animals.
posted by Kate at 2:28 PM link/comments
Thursday, November 04, 2004
Yeah, this is pretty much how I feel about it:
Thirteen ways of reacting to an election.
In order, these were mine: #5, #1, #2, #7, #10, #3, #6, #13.
*sigh*
posted by Kate at 2:17 PM link/comments
Tuesday, November 02, 2004
I'm pretty sure everyone who's ever read more than three words on this website knows which way I lean politically. I used to bitch about politics a bit here, but over the past couple of years I realized that political commentary was not my strongsuit. I think there are those who are much better at discussing these matters than me, so I'm just as happy to leave it to them.
That said, I just feel the need to mention that I am positively sick over how the election is being handled in this state. A last-minute appeal was won by state Republicans last night, which in case you haven't heard, allows partisan "challengers" to hang around at the polls and randomly harass people about whether they have the right to vote. The challeneger at my polling place this morning was a fat, surly-looking white guy with a receding hairline who stood leering at everyone and taking copious notes. A voters' rights volunteer told me that he had challenged a number of voters' rights -- mostly black men and women --over the course of the morning, and fortunately, she'd managed to sort it all out so that no vote had been left uncast, despite The Fat Man's efforts to the contrary.
The whole thing made me sick. There is no evidence that past Ohio elections have been rife with voter fraud, so I don't buy the Republicans' argument that they're just trying to make sure the election is "fair." They're trying to intimidate voters, and it's disgusting. I was having a lot of trouble stomaching the image this morning of that man inexplicably taking notes and staring over his wire-rims at every African-American who walked through the line. What was he writing? I don't know, but I'm sure whatever it was will end up being lawsuit fodder come tomorrow, when the lawyer mob steps in to decide the election.
I hate that thanks to what happened four years ago, we've set a precedent that says it's OK for lawyers and courts to interpret our votes. Remember the good old days when we knew the election outcome with reasonable certainty by the time we went to bed on election night? I miss those days, and I'm scared that any children I might have could grow up in a world where they can't be certain about whether their votes count.
I hate that four years have gone by, and virtually nothing has been done in our state to update and simplify the voting process. Four years later, and I still had to flip my ballot over to make sure there were no bloody hanging chads.
I hate that I feel compelled to type this post.
Please, Ohio people, if you're reading this, and if you haven't voted yet today, get to the polls and do it. And if any lurpy motherfuckers try to tell you you can't vote, find the voter's rights advocate (there's one at every poll) and argue your ass off. If they won't let you cast a standard ballot, ask to cast a provisional. Those count, too.
If you're undecided and looking for advice (hardee har har), I'd like you to vote for Mr. Kerry and Mr. Fingerhut, pretty please, and against Issue 1. Oh, and if you wouldn't mind, please let the Metroparks have some money. Parks are good. I like parks.
*** End o' Political Rant ***
posted by Kate at 9:50 AM link/comments
Monday, November 01, 2004
Shit!
Well, at least Marc will be happy. That's what happens when someone spends their whole life (save the past 4 years) living south of the Mason-Dixon: Snow just tickles them to no goddamned end. I've met golden retrievers that, compared to Marc, seem downright bored at the sight of snow.
At least one us won't be all mood-swingy and depressed until April. It's good to have balance in a marriage.
posted by Kate at 3:36 PM link/comments
So I am not sure what it means, but I have been using one of the previously mentioned contraptions in my car for years..... in fact, in my old car, I had two, one on my visor for me, and one on the passenger's side for a spare set for when ppl rode in my car and didn't have sunglasses.....
As for corporate types taking halloween seriously, I am not suprised, I was told by a friend who works at Cleveland Clinic that friday was definately a surreal day for the patients.... it is not every day you get to be treated by a doctor in drag, or in some strange plastic mask.....
posted by Becky at 9:16 AM link/comments