Confession
While in Florida, land of the infamous highway A1A, I belted out more than once:
"A1A, BEACHFRONT AVENUE!
Girls were hot, wearin' less than bikinis
Rockman lovers driving Lamborghinis
JEALOUS 'cause I'm out getting mine
Shay with a guage and Vanilla with a nine..."
I'll spare you the rest. I'm outta here. Word to your mutha.
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
Monday, August 22, 2005
The Good, the Bad, the Indescribably Cute
We're back from Florida and I don't feel like talking about it. The trip can be summed up, in essence, by this conversational exerpt that occurred just as we were driving off in our rental car after arriving:
SEAN: *smacks forehead* SHIT!
REDPANDA: (alarmed) What? What is it?
SEAN: I forgot the keys to the condo!
REDPANDA: You....what?
SEAN: The keys! I don't have them. They're in Boston still.
REDPANDA: (long pause) Does...anyone here...have them?
SEAN: No. The guy who does is away on vacation.
Yes, yes, gentle reader; I am aware that locksmiths can be called. Indeed, locksmiths were called. But that is not really the point. The point is that 2 days were lost to exhausting every other option and then seeking a locksmith who would open a condo we, wait for it, DO NOT OWN for us. Well, actually, I think there is a slip of paper that indicates Sean owns it. That slip of paper, of course, is in BOSTON.
That was the bad.
The Good and the Indescribably Cute are this: We have decided to announce that there is an impending addition to our little family. Meet Sadie.
Sadie is too little to come home to live just yet. She is expected to arrive sometime around September 8th. Also, she has the honor of being the very first Well-Red image.
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
Allercold Brought Reinforcements
Like, his good friend Walking Pneumonia. Yippee! I do nothing halfway.
Hopefully the Zithromax the nice doctor gave me will kick some butt somewhere along the lines. Unless, of course, this whole thing is viral. Then, all you can do is say "Fucking Virus!" and sniff in annoyance.
The good part of all this is that I was here today for the delivery of our new "server". Having spent as many years as I did living entirely off of tips, I of course half-expected the delivery guys to bring someone bedecked in flair wielding a beverage tray. But no, it was a piece of furniture, just as we had ordered. It almost but not quite matches our lovely new dining room set, which is fine by me. I have never been a fan of the matchy-matchy sets. "Go", but don't "match".
Now, we just have to assemble our kitchen island (The one that I for some reason assumed came already assembled. Is that too damn much to ask? Four hundred bucks and you send me a box of fucking wood pieces? What am I, a puzzle enthusiast?) and we can do away with a good portion of the boxes that are still scattered around our downstairs. And do you know what that means? That means PAINTING TIME, baby! (Alayna--that last sentence was for YOU!)
So, we're leaving for the Boca-est of Ratons again tomorrow. I'm rather enthused about flying Song for the first time--legend (and Sean) has it that there is some sort of trivia game on every TV monitor. I am quite certain that there will be a high-stakes game of trivia going down tomorrow morning. One can only speculate as to the result.
Like, his good friend Walking Pneumonia. Yippee! I do nothing halfway.
Hopefully the Zithromax the nice doctor gave me will kick some butt somewhere along the lines. Unless, of course, this whole thing is viral. Then, all you can do is say "Fucking Virus!" and sniff in annoyance.
The good part of all this is that I was here today for the delivery of our new "server". Having spent as many years as I did living entirely off of tips, I of course half-expected the delivery guys to bring someone bedecked in flair wielding a beverage tray. But no, it was a piece of furniture, just as we had ordered. It almost but not quite matches our lovely new dining room set, which is fine by me. I have never been a fan of the matchy-matchy sets. "Go", but don't "match".
Now, we just have to assemble our kitchen island (The one that I for some reason assumed came already assembled. Is that too damn much to ask? Four hundred bucks and you send me a box of fucking wood pieces? What am I, a puzzle enthusiast?) and we can do away with a good portion of the boxes that are still scattered around our downstairs. And do you know what that means? That means PAINTING TIME, baby! (Alayna--that last sentence was for YOU!)
So, we're leaving for the Boca-est of Ratons again tomorrow. I'm rather enthused about flying Song for the first time--legend (and Sean) has it that there is some sort of trivia game on every TV monitor. I am quite certain that there will be a high-stakes game of trivia going down tomorrow morning. One can only speculate as to the result.
Monday, August 15, 2005
Breaking the Unofficial Hiatus
...On careers
I hate my fucking job. Have I said that lately? Hate. Fucking. Job. Maybe I'll type that a time too many and get canned, leaving me to sue and/or collect unemployment. Yay!
Why, do you ask? Well, let's just say I'm sick to death of putting forth new ideas, only to have them shot down until months later, an expensive consultant comes and puts forth the same "new" ideas; which are then implemented post-haste.
Never fear, I shan't really quit or get fired. I shall type away like a monkey on my keyboard until I can be bothered to find new employment.
...On tax-free shopping
Yes, I jumped on the bandwagon on Saturday and now have a new buffet (which will be delivered Wednesday) and a new toy, complete with second free new toy, to show for it. I pretty much rule now.
...On health
We ran around like recently-beheaded chickens getting new toys on Saturday for the EXPRESS PURPOSE of thereby freeing up our Sunday for BBQ and NASCAR. This was, in its very essence, a great plan. However, it was intercepted by Evil Allercold, the Destroyer of Clear Nasal Passages. I have been gasping and sniffling miserably from the couch all Sunday and Monday long. Damn you, Allercold! Are you an allergy? Are you a cold? Who knows? I loathe you all the same!
...On disappearing weekends
If it weren't enough that half my past weekend was revoked by Evil Allercold, the impending weekend is to be taken up entirely by Floridaness. This sounds fun in theory, but in practice entails the cleaning, scrubbing, and packing up of Sean's recently departed father's condo. This is just one of the many Things That Must Be Done that they don't warn you about when you are handed your "I'm Now a Grown-Up" button. So be forewarned: not only does it suck in general to lose people you love, but you will have to go through their stuff, pay their outstanding debts, and generally box everything up. This probably seems obvious, but the minutea of it had escaped me somehow before. My bad.
...On homeownership
The boxes? They are still everywhere. Hopefully the arrival of the buffet will give me a place to put some of the things currently in boxes. And one day, we assume that the upstairs of our house will be cool enough to be in for long enough to sort out. Also, we still have to paint. And have our oil heat converted to gas. And regrade one side of the house. And plug up the hole in the attic where the squirrels come in. And replace half the roof. And repoint the foundation bricks. And replace the bulkhead. And...and...and...
...On more homeownership
A big giant CONGRATS to my good friends Paige (who has a blog that I would link to if I could ever seem to get around to asking her if I may...) and Theron, who just signed the P & S (I like to say it really fast so it sounds like I'm saying "penis") on their condo-to-be last week. It's a great-looking place, and best of all just a scant 3.8 miles from ours. Guys? Can I borrow a cup of sugar? :)
And now, let it be known that both my stomach and head ache, and I wish I had some saltines.
...On careers
I hate my fucking job. Have I said that lately? Hate. Fucking. Job. Maybe I'll type that a time too many and get canned, leaving me to sue and/or collect unemployment. Yay!
Why, do you ask? Well, let's just say I'm sick to death of putting forth new ideas, only to have them shot down until months later, an expensive consultant comes and puts forth the same "new" ideas; which are then implemented post-haste.
Never fear, I shan't really quit or get fired. I shall type away like a monkey on my keyboard until I can be bothered to find new employment.
...On tax-free shopping
Yes, I jumped on the bandwagon on Saturday and now have a new buffet (which will be delivered Wednesday) and a new toy, complete with second free new toy, to show for it. I pretty much rule now.
...On health
We ran around like recently-beheaded chickens getting new toys on Saturday for the EXPRESS PURPOSE of thereby freeing up our Sunday for BBQ and NASCAR. This was, in its very essence, a great plan. However, it was intercepted by Evil Allercold, the Destroyer of Clear Nasal Passages. I have been gasping and sniffling miserably from the couch all Sunday and Monday long. Damn you, Allercold! Are you an allergy? Are you a cold? Who knows? I loathe you all the same!
...On disappearing weekends
If it weren't enough that half my past weekend was revoked by Evil Allercold, the impending weekend is to be taken up entirely by Floridaness. This sounds fun in theory, but in practice entails the cleaning, scrubbing, and packing up of Sean's recently departed father's condo. This is just one of the many Things That Must Be Done that they don't warn you about when you are handed your "I'm Now a Grown-Up" button. So be forewarned: not only does it suck in general to lose people you love, but you will have to go through their stuff, pay their outstanding debts, and generally box everything up. This probably seems obvious, but the minutea of it had escaped me somehow before. My bad.
...On homeownership
The boxes? They are still everywhere. Hopefully the arrival of the buffet will give me a place to put some of the things currently in boxes. And one day, we assume that the upstairs of our house will be cool enough to be in for long enough to sort out. Also, we still have to paint. And have our oil heat converted to gas. And regrade one side of the house. And plug up the hole in the attic where the squirrels come in. And replace half the roof. And repoint the foundation bricks. And replace the bulkhead. And...and...and...
...On more homeownership
A big giant CONGRATS to my good friends Paige (who has a blog that I would link to if I could ever seem to get around to asking her if I may...) and Theron, who just signed the P & S (I like to say it really fast so it sounds like I'm saying "penis") on their condo-to-be last week. It's a great-looking place, and best of all just a scant 3.8 miles from ours. Guys? Can I borrow a cup of sugar? :)
And now, let it be known that both my stomach and head ache, and I wish I had some saltines.
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