Ugh

And it makes me feel so fine I can't control my brain....

Angry much? No, not me. Okay, so it's 7:34am and I am listening to Lay Lady Lay covered by Ministry. Trying to collect my thoughts into a rational pouch of expression with many difficulties. Just was enjoying my last post on here with that asinine real estate agent on my fridge. And shit, that was my kitchen! Anyhow, I remember buying this disc back in 92. Back then being angry was okay; I was still pretty young.

Was this real estate agent sitting on my fridge when she snapped this clandestine photo?

What the hell? Seriously. I don't remember giving this bitch permission to photograph what I call "my" kitchen, let alone post it to the intenet. In fact, I'm sure I didn't. I suppose that my indignation in this instance is inconsequential, considering I don't own this house. I do, however, own the sexy black fridge I can only surmise she was perched on with her obviously sub par digital camera.

Anyhow, there have been a few cases where my pissed offed-ness feel justified. I just

So today’s feeling like a super secret blog kind of day- and hell, why not?? That walk through yesterday was a bit traumatic. Probably for both me AND Rob, seeing as I could have done a better job cleaning. Thing is, I really don’t need those two spare bedrooms. So they have pretty much become giant storage closets over the past three years. And while I had all these grandiose notions of spring cleaning the hell out of this place, the majority of my time was spent trying to organize those two ugly little rooms. Thus, many other necessities weren’t covered. And in the end, neither room looked particularly charming. However, my bathroom was IMMACULATE! Kaboom works like a freaking charm. It practically looked like I’d just tiled the shower recently myself. And installed a new shit can. If my mom taught me anything, she sure enough taught me how to clean a bathroom proper. And my kitchen looked pretty top notch as well, aside from the mop bucket in the middle of the floor. Bedroom looked decent, aside from the fact I really only have a dresser, bed, tiny bedside table, and tv in there, and my bed presently doesn’t have a frame, due to it breaking. So it just sits on the floor. At least it still has a bed skirt. Besides, as big as these NB houses are, the bedrooms are tiny little square boxes. Perfect size for a storage closet. Of course, when Keith got here today, he was eager to point out the ill presentation of my entry way. He was right. But I don’t doubt that the subconscious selfish side of me wasn’t super wild about making this the most beautiful and welcoming place in the world, all things considered. I was, however, deeply ashamed today, and I’ve since scrubbed the front entry way, mopped and vacuumed up my remaining Christmas tree needles. Presently scrubbing my whitework- doors, door frames, crown molding, and floor molding (or whatever is the correct name for it). Yay for spring cleaning and new beginnings. I guess.

Scarey enough for me

So I went out to my balcony to shoot a video shot of my tree for Jane, just on a whim. I'm all, "Okay, this might work." Meanwhile, it's snowing like a son of a bitch, and as I cleared off the "spot" for the camera on my balcony, I wondered... can this possibly fit into the montage?

Anyhow, I took maybe 20 seconds of video of the tree and the snow falling down. Then I came in to download. Not great video footage; a bit dark, but I think I caught some EVP action, no kidding. As I was watching the movie replay, heard all this odd noise in the background. So of course, I watched it a couple times, just to make sure, and then as I'm watching, I hear this loud, real time crash. This wine glass that was sitting on top of my wine rack in the dining room just hurled itself to the floor. Meanwhile, I'm home alone, so I rip out first the broom and then the vaccuum, and clean that mess up. But now that I think about it, really? I was in the living room, no where near the dining room, the dogs were in here with me, and I'm home alone. What caused that to happen? I'm pretty sure there wasn't an earthquake, and for that matter, I'm pretty sure this wineglass was on the middle of the top of my wine rack, as it's a cute handpainted one my aunt gave me for Christmas last year, and I just brought it home from my mom's last weekend. Do we have a haunting? I certainly hope not, because I'm aggravated enough as it is. And I hate to say it, but if I have to face a ghost tonight, I'm going to be pissed. I'm tired, all my snowblowing has been shot due to the new inches of snow, and I'm really not looking forward to driving to work on my bald tires tomorrow. So on that note, I bid you all good night. May your evening be ghost free and restful. Unless of course, you are looking for a ghost, in which case you are welcome to mine.

I used my adding machine at work today, because I was afraid I’d done the mental math wrong. No such luck. 2011 minus 1974 equals 37. WHAT?? I’m going to be 37 this year? It’s officially time for a mid life crisis, or so I’ve declared it. As I’ve watched time tick by, more and more quickly with each passing year, my mind has remained convinced I’m still at least a decade younger than reality proves. They do say it’s all about how old you feel, but I don’t entirely buy that these days… maybe only because I’m having a mid life crisis. Unfortunately, I don’t have the funds for a smoking new sports car, and thankfully, I’m far from unhappy with the loves of my life and have no desire to replace them, so I guess I’ll need to compensate elsewhere.

What’s a girl to do? Or, a middle aged lady, rather?

I was thinking back to New Years gone by earlier, and I remembered my worst ever. It was either 91, 92, or 93 (way to narrow it down), and I remember for whatever reason, I was devastated by something my boyfriend at the time did. Hahaa. So we had broken up, and my mom tried to get me to go to a party at an old family friend of ours, and Lauri was dating RJ at the time, and for some reason I think they wanted me to go to Pizza Hut with them. Sounds pretty high schoolish, so we can probably narrow it down to 91 or 92, but I decined both offers. I’m pretty sure I drank a 40 and a half of Old English, and I distinctly remember puking in the New Year with Dick Clark announcing in the background. Talking about the half bathroom off the family room, that at that point had ceased to be a family room of any merit. Happy New Year “insert vomiting sound here.” Pretty pathetic…

So now I’m 37. In a few months, anyhow. I suppose I’ve got some time to put a game plan in action. And I have a mild idea; just hoping I don’t lose anyone along the way.