I tell you, my Motorola Droid phone is a piece of work. It likes to hold my e-mails hostage, sometimes for as long as 24 hours before it decides to release them. I dunno why. It's not like it's waiting for some sort of ransom. "Download the paid version of Angry Birds and I'll release 2 of your e-mails at a time. But I still won't let you answer incoming calls."
The latest thing I've noticed is that somehow, the simple act of turning off my phone at night and then turning it back on in the morning causes the battery to drain. When I turned it off last night, the battery was at about 40%. When I turned it back on this morning, alarms went off and I could hear "Code Blue on the Droid! Get the crash cart, stat!" coming from my phone.
So what I want to know is what the hell is my phone doing while it's turned off? Playing Angry Birds? Paper Toss? Signing me up for $9.99 a month games without MY authorization? Which actually happened. I got my bill yesterday and there was a charge that was unfamiliar so I called Verizon and found out that I'm not the first person to find out that I'm now signed up for some stupid phone game app that I never signed up for but because I didn't reply to the spam text from this site to tell them I wasn't interested, I got ding'd. The lovely lady at Verizon removed the charge and put a block on this spammer. But it still doesn't explain how my phone battery parties like a rock star while the phone is off.
Speaking of cellphones, TheManTheMyth has wondered why we continue to have (and pay) for a land line. I dunno honey, does the term, "dropped calls" mean anything to you? Plus also too, we have the land line/internet/TV bundle. My land line is actually my/our primary phone and 99% of calls are made to that phone instead of my cellphone. So it'd be a royal pain the ass to change from this number to the various cell phone numbers. And I'd have to up our calling minutes on the cellphone (the kids and I share 700 monthly minutes and have never even gone above 200 total. TheManTheMyth's phone is from a different carrier) which would cause our cellphone bill to go even higher. And our phone number is the original phone number for this house and I think my grandparents would spin in their graves if we were to get rid of it. When we moved in, one of the agreements between my sisters and I was Never Change the Phone Number and also, Never Change the Locks. Although the spare key that was always hidden under the box of a can of varnish right inside the door of the garage is long gone. Along with the box holding the can of varnish.
The varnish may be gone but I'm damned if this beloved phone number goes the way of the varnish.
Friday, February 4, 2011
Thursday, February 3, 2011
One of those "salvaged" dogs
It's been almost a year since we adopted Gracie Lou from a shelter. However, I like how my friend John described her when he met her for the first time: "she's a salvaged dog, right?"
Salvaged dog. I thought that was pretty darn funny. And, it fits. Gracie Lou is not just a rescue, she's a salvaged dog. And as we have discovered in the almost a year of having her in our lives, salvaged dogs can be weird. Lots of quirks and/or issues that you probably wouldn't have with a dog you've raised from a puppy.
She's slowly getting over her fear of thinking every dog she sees is out to eat her. Lately, when she sees another dog on our walks, she waits until the dog is a safe distance before she barks and jumps around instead of trying to climb up my back in sheer terror the way she used to.
She still barks at inanimate objects, such as orange traffic cones, a backpack hanging on a doorknob or things invisible to the human eye but not quite as much.
One of her quirks, and there are quite a few, is her inability to walk down stairs. She'll do fine until the last 2 or 3 steps when she just kind of missteps and does a belly slide the rest of the way.
When we're out on a walk and she spies a food wrapper, she will sneak up on it, snatch it up and then run like crazy with it in her mouth. She doesn't get far thanks to her 12' leash so she'll start running around me in a 12' circle, still holding the food wrapper in her mouth. I'll just stand there holding the leash handle above my head as she runs around and around and around. And around.
My dog is also extremely camera shy. I don't know if it's from having to pose for mug shots on numerous occasions (Im her 3rd owner) or she thinks the camera will steal her soul but every time I've tried to take a picture of her, even when she's asleep, as soon as I pick up my phone (it takes good photos), she jumps up and goes running down the hall to my room so she can dive under the bed and be safe from the evil camera:
The only way I got this shot was by holding up the bed skirt, thrusting my phone under the bed and hoping I got a decent shot. Okay, semi-decent. She doesn't always make it completely under the bed. Sometimes, only her head is under the bed but in her little pea brain, she's completely hidden and Safe.
Gracie Lou also gets a thrill when you move a body part under the bed covers. When you do that, either intentionally or unintentionally, she sees it as prey that must be attacked. I don't know how many times I've been reading in bed and reached down to scratch an itch and this dog, who moments before had been snoring on her back, will pounce with lightning speed, just like a cat. And she'll growl all ferocious like. And of course, TheManTheMyth thinks it so funny and he'll move his leg under the covers just to watch her freak out and pounce. Until last night.
Last night, they were playing the Pounce on a Moving Limb game when Gracie Lou got a little too carried away. The leg moved, she pounced and proceeded to, um, hump the heck out of TheManTheMyth's knee, growling and snarling like a rabid dog.
And of course I started laughing my fool head off, which only made her more crazed and the humping and ferocious growls grew even more frantic, probably because TheManTheMyth was trying to remove his poor assaulted leg from her feverish grasp and Oh! It was pretty hilarious and I guess you had to be there.
He finally succeeded in peeling her off and I asked him if his leg needed a cigarette and TheManTheMyth didn't find the experience as humorous as I did.
Gracie Lou is laying there, panting from the exertion when someone moved his knee AGAIN and she was on him in flash. She loved his knee long time.
Wait, did I say, "salvaged dog?" I should have said, "Savage dog."
Salvaged dog. I thought that was pretty darn funny. And, it fits. Gracie Lou is not just a rescue, she's a salvaged dog. And as we have discovered in the almost a year of having her in our lives, salvaged dogs can be weird. Lots of quirks and/or issues that you probably wouldn't have with a dog you've raised from a puppy.
She's slowly getting over her fear of thinking every dog she sees is out to eat her. Lately, when she sees another dog on our walks, she waits until the dog is a safe distance before she barks and jumps around instead of trying to climb up my back in sheer terror the way she used to.
She still barks at inanimate objects, such as orange traffic cones, a backpack hanging on a doorknob or things invisible to the human eye but not quite as much.
One of her quirks, and there are quite a few, is her inability to walk down stairs. She'll do fine until the last 2 or 3 steps when she just kind of missteps and does a belly slide the rest of the way.
When we're out on a walk and she spies a food wrapper, she will sneak up on it, snatch it up and then run like crazy with it in her mouth. She doesn't get far thanks to her 12' leash so she'll start running around me in a 12' circle, still holding the food wrapper in her mouth. I'll just stand there holding the leash handle above my head as she runs around and around and around. And around.
My dog is also extremely camera shy. I don't know if it's from having to pose for mug shots on numerous occasions (Im her 3rd owner) or she thinks the camera will steal her soul but every time I've tried to take a picture of her, even when she's asleep, as soon as I pick up my phone (it takes good photos), she jumps up and goes running down the hall to my room so she can dive under the bed and be safe from the evil camera:
Gracie Lou also gets a thrill when you move a body part under the bed covers. When you do that, either intentionally or unintentionally, she sees it as prey that must be attacked. I don't know how many times I've been reading in bed and reached down to scratch an itch and this dog, who moments before had been snoring on her back, will pounce with lightning speed, just like a cat. And she'll growl all ferocious like. And of course, TheManTheMyth thinks it so funny and he'll move his leg under the covers just to watch her freak out and pounce. Until last night.
Last night, they were playing the Pounce on a Moving Limb game when Gracie Lou got a little too carried away. The leg moved, she pounced and proceeded to, um, hump the heck out of TheManTheMyth's knee, growling and snarling like a rabid dog.
And of course I started laughing my fool head off, which only made her more crazed and the humping and ferocious growls grew even more frantic, probably because TheManTheMyth was trying to remove his poor assaulted leg from her feverish grasp and Oh! It was pretty hilarious and I guess you had to be there.
He finally succeeded in peeling her off and I asked him if his leg needed a cigarette and TheManTheMyth didn't find the experience as humorous as I did.
Gracie Lou is laying there, panting from the exertion when someone moved his knee AGAIN and she was on him in flash. She loved his knee long time.
Wait, did I say, "salvaged dog?" I should have said, "Savage dog."
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
I successfully resist attempts from a cult to brainwash me
Okay, so I was straightening up the house (was too!) and found a pile of junk mail that was hidden under some stuff which was on top of some other stuff and there was an envelope of direct mail ads which was sent by a company that, ironically, I was fired from 20 years ago which sent me spiraling into a 6 month depression because of the trauma. Of being fired and not the finding of the envelope I mean.
Anyhoo, I decided to look through the ads to see if there was anything of interest and why yes, yes there was:
I don't care how much this "church" sputters and screams in denial but *I* know and *you* know that Scientology is a cult. Sandy.
Years ago, I was sitting happily in my apartment, probably drinking a beer, when there was a knock at the door and some unknown female is standing there. I'm thinking she's selling something and tell her I'm not buying anything but she wants to talk to me about how I can become a better person. And I'm all "no thanks, I'm just fine the way I am" as I belch from my Coors Light and before I can raise my can to my lips for my next guzzle, this person opens the screen door and walks right into my house, uninvited and I'm all, "Uh, what are you doing?" and she's all, "I just want to talk to you about reaching your fullest potential" and I'm all, "get out!" and she's all, "No really! We can help you!" and I'm all, "No. I mean, GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" and she's all, "Don't you want to become a better person? All you have to do is take thisridiculously expensive audit personality quiz and then we'll show you your strengths and weaknesses and help you reach your most cherished goals at the cost of thousands of dollars and multiple brainwashing techniques.
No thanks, I'll pass.
I mean, do I LOOK like I need improvement:
Again, cameras are not my friend. You see, I'm stalked by a malevolent entity that possesses any camera that takes my photo. She wears the EXACT SAME THING I'm wearing but while I'm stunningly beautiful, this entity is Not and exchanges her photo for mine.
I'm sure it's yet another Scientology scheme to lure unsuspecting people into their cult.
Because other than my inability to accessorize, I'm like Mary Poppins: Practically perfect in every way.
Anyhoo, I decided to look through the ads to see if there was anything of interest and why yes, yes there was:
I don't care how much this "church" sputters and screams in denial but *I* know and *you* know that Scientology is a cult. Sandy.
Years ago, I was sitting happily in my apartment, probably drinking a beer, when there was a knock at the door and some unknown female is standing there. I'm thinking she's selling something and tell her I'm not buying anything but she wants to talk to me about how I can become a better person. And I'm all "no thanks, I'm just fine the way I am" as I belch from my Coors Light and before I can raise my can to my lips for my next guzzle, this person opens the screen door and walks right into my house, uninvited and I'm all, "Uh, what are you doing?" and she's all, "I just want to talk to you about reaching your fullest potential" and I'm all, "get out!" and she's all, "No really! We can help you!" and I'm all, "No. I mean, GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" and she's all, "Don't you want to become a better person? All you have to do is take this
No thanks, I'll pass.
I mean, do I LOOK like I need improvement:
Again, cameras are not my friend. You see, I'm stalked by a malevolent entity that possesses any camera that takes my photo. She wears the EXACT SAME THING I'm wearing but while I'm stunningly beautiful, this entity is Not and exchanges her photo for mine.
I'm sure it's yet another Scientology scheme to lure unsuspecting people into their cult.
Because other than my inability to accessorize, I'm like Mary Poppins: Practically perfect in every way.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Separating myself from the animals
"The only thing that separates us from the animals is our ability to accessorize" -- Clairee Belcher
I must confess: when it comes to accessorizing, I'm a dismal failure. I have no idea on how to take a scarf or brooch or necklace and add it to my typical ensemble of yoga pants and Target brand v-neck t-shirt to give it some stylish flair.
Yes, yes, I know. Yoga pants and Tar-Zhay t-shirt is not going to win me any fashion awards unless it's a Fashion Citation award and Oh! I found a place online where you can order actual Fashion Citations and how funny would THAT be to head to a mall and hand them out? Except based on MY fashion choices, it would be rather hypocritical. But still fun.
Anyway. One of my "goals" for this year is to start adding some accessories and yes, upgrade from yoga pants to at least a nice pair of jeans (dark wash) for every day wear. But I'm not giving up my TarZhay t-shirts. Baby steps, people. Baby steps.
Have you seen those YouTube videos of teen, tween and pre-teen girls who are these little Fashionistas and go shopping and then model what they've bought for their viewers? Some of these CHILDREN have even been hired by department stores to shop and promote stuff. They're being PAID TO SHOP!!!
I am in awe of their ability to not only match this top with those pants and shoes but also throw in some basic accessories and voila! Instant cute. While I struggle to match a pair of khaki pants with a blue t-shirt. Why don't they have Garanimals for adults, is what I'm asking.
So a couple of weeks ago, I headed to the Antique Swap meet here in Long Beach in my quest for Accessories. I'm thinking costume jewelry and figured I'd find interesting things there. And I discovered that 1950's and 60's costume jewelry is HUGE at the swap meet. Had I kept all of my Gramma's costume jewelry, I'd have been set. My Gramma had many matching necklace/earrings/brooch sets but not knowing any better, I donated most of it to the Long Beach Junior League for their annual rummage sale and was absolutely shocked to see The Gramma Collection (as we called it) included with the Fine Jewelry and snatched up almost immediately. The Sustainers who were in charge of the Fine Jewelry told me the Gramma Collection was the most popular items they had. Who knew? Obviously, not I.
So while at the swap meet, I bought 2 vintage necklaces (and a 1950's Nancy Drew Mystery Game that I could have turned around and sold to another vendor for double my money just a few rows over) and yesterday, I decided to wear one of the necklaces to accessorize my jeans-and-tshirt ensemble.
And this photo explains why I rarely allow someone to take my picture because photogenic I am Not. And holy cow, look at the size of my boobs! I certainly don't need to worry about drowning with those flotation devices, sheesh! And that is my cute Gracie Lou on the floor, no doubt full from eating my sunglasses.
As I put it on, I told myself that as soon as either of my kids saw it, they would ask why I was wearing a necklace because they know it's out of the ordinary for me. And sure enough, when I picked Thing 2 up from school, the first thing she said to me was, "Why are you wearing that necklace?" and when Thing 1 walked in the door from school, the first thing he said to me was, "I'm hungry. Why are you wearing that necklace?" And TheManTheMyth got home from work and said, "The dog pooped on the patio, what's with the necklace?"
I guess my attempts to accessorize and add a little style isn't fooling my family.
I must confess: when it comes to accessorizing, I'm a dismal failure. I have no idea on how to take a scarf or brooch or necklace and add it to my typical ensemble of yoga pants and Target brand v-neck t-shirt to give it some stylish flair.
Yes, yes, I know. Yoga pants and Tar-Zhay t-shirt is not going to win me any fashion awards unless it's a Fashion Citation award and Oh! I found a place online where you can order actual Fashion Citations and how funny would THAT be to head to a mall and hand them out? Except based on MY fashion choices, it would be rather hypocritical. But still fun.
Anyway. One of my "goals" for this year is to start adding some accessories and yes, upgrade from yoga pants to at least a nice pair of jeans (dark wash) for every day wear. But I'm not giving up my TarZhay t-shirts. Baby steps, people. Baby steps.
Have you seen those YouTube videos of teen, tween and pre-teen girls who are these little Fashionistas and go shopping and then model what they've bought for their viewers? Some of these CHILDREN have even been hired by department stores to shop and promote stuff. They're being PAID TO SHOP!!!
I am in awe of their ability to not only match this top with those pants and shoes but also throw in some basic accessories and voila! Instant cute. While I struggle to match a pair of khaki pants with a blue t-shirt. Why don't they have Garanimals for adults, is what I'm asking.
So a couple of weeks ago, I headed to the Antique Swap meet here in Long Beach in my quest for Accessories. I'm thinking costume jewelry and figured I'd find interesting things there. And I discovered that 1950's and 60's costume jewelry is HUGE at the swap meet. Had I kept all of my Gramma's costume jewelry, I'd have been set. My Gramma had many matching necklace/earrings/brooch sets but not knowing any better, I donated most of it to the Long Beach Junior League for their annual rummage sale and was absolutely shocked to see The Gramma Collection (as we called it) included with the Fine Jewelry and snatched up almost immediately. The Sustainers who were in charge of the Fine Jewelry told me the Gramma Collection was the most popular items they had. Who knew? Obviously, not I.
So while at the swap meet, I bought 2 vintage necklaces (and a 1950's Nancy Drew Mystery Game that I could have turned around and sold to another vendor for double my money just a few rows over) and yesterday, I decided to wear one of the necklaces to accessorize my jeans-and-tshirt ensemble.
As I put it on, I told myself that as soon as either of my kids saw it, they would ask why I was wearing a necklace because they know it's out of the ordinary for me. And sure enough, when I picked Thing 2 up from school, the first thing she said to me was, "Why are you wearing that necklace?" and when Thing 1 walked in the door from school, the first thing he said to me was, "I'm hungry. Why are you wearing that necklace?" And TheManTheMyth got home from work and said, "The dog pooped on the patio, what's with the necklace?"
I guess my attempts to accessorize and add a little style isn't fooling my family.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Oh no she di'int!
Remember how I've described how my dog, Gracie Lou, likes to chew things she's not supposed to? And how she chewed up and destroyed my Kate Spade sunglasses forcing me to go back to my old stand by Ralph Lauren sunglasses even though they're all scratched up but I still love them?
Well.
Guess what I woke up to find this morning? Go ahead, guess!
Um, yeah.
So now, I'm forced to wear one of my many other pairs of sunglasses that just aren't quite right.
She's lucky she's so darn cute.
And innocent looking. Looks are SO deceiving.
Well.
Guess what I woke up to find this morning? Go ahead, guess!
Um, yeah.
So now, I'm forced to wear one of my many other pairs of sunglasses that just aren't quite right.
She's lucky she's so darn cute.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
That was some good shit, man
Okay, I'm flipping through channels this morning after watching Supercross, and may I say that CBS did a damn good job of breaking up their hour broadcast of commercials with a little bit of racing, when I spotted a show I haven't seen in a few decades on our local PBS channel.
"Lidsville" aka "The Land of Living Hats" and I'm all, "No way" and the TV is all "way" and I had to sit down and watch this blast from the Psychedelic Past and I'm all "Whoa, that's some good shit man" and then realized that *I* haven't taken any hallucinogenics in the last 2 decades (wait, lemme think about that, carry the one and what year is it and okay I'm good) but Lidsville and the whole Sid and Marty Krofft World was a world of some serious drugs, man. The GOOD drugs. Unless Living Hats freaks you out and I can see why they would.
I remember thinking Mark was so cute until I realized he was played by Eddie Munster and then that kind of killed THAT crush but I like how he's wearing Van's Canvas Authentic deck shoes which were the shoe of choice of my childhood and teen years and still are for this neck of the woods. That's why they're Classics.
And I am having the WORST time getting this stupid video to work with this post and I've tried it about a jillion times and I STILL don't know if it will show up. I'm sure it's all drug related.
Because that was some good shit, man.
Ah screw it. The video STILL won't post so you get a link instead. Click on it and prepared to be totally tripped out, man.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=btpd8zg5VWA
And I am having the WORST time getting this stupid video to work with this post and I've tried it about a jillion times and I STILL don't know if it will show up. I'm sure it's all drug related.
Because that was some good shit, man.
Ah screw it. The video STILL won't post so you get a link instead. Click on it and prepared to be totally tripped out, man.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=btpd8zg5VWA
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Sunshine Day
Don't you just love the cheesy campiness of the Brady Bunch? Always so happy and uplifting and positive. Makes your fillings ache and you risk becoming diabetic from all that saccharin. I mean, I'm not a hand wringing Debbie Downer going all "The sky is falling we're all gonna die!" but I'm also living in reality.
It's like those people on Facebook who are constantly posting Brady Bunch-esque status updates that are all "I'm so blessed. My husband/children/pet ferret is the most wonderful in the world and the birds are blooming and the flowers are singing and I know that you are envious of me and my fabulous life because *I* am blessed and you are Not. Cut and paste this as your status if you agree!"
Okay, I totally have to use that as my Facebook status. Because I am a bitch that way. It's what makes me so gosh darn loveable.
I think I'll go for a walk outside now, the winter sun's calling my name.
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