Another Day

My brain is so wired with deadlines and yard work and housework that I'm not posting as regularly as I would like.  And I regret that terribly.

Remember when I said I could do it but I might go crazy?  Moving up everything a month?  I wasn't kidding.  And instead of that week off I wanted?  I think we should make a month.  And y'all can fend for yourself.

Recently I discovered I have a chipmonk bogarting my birdfeed (though I still hold true on those rules and the birds disrespecting my authority).  Watching the little guy shimmy up the pole and stuff his little cheeks was cute for the first couple of times.   By the fifth time the second day, I started throwing things at the window.  (When they take me to the crazy house, will you visit?)

I finally got the Brilliant idea that he couldn't shimmy if he couldn't get proper grip (and wasn't affiliated with any climbing association).  So I went all crisco on his ass .... or shepard's hooks.  Problem solved.

The birds must have told the bunny who was using my flowers as a buffet that "Dude, she means it and you better watch your poofy little cotton tail, because she's gunning for you."  Because I haven't seen him in plants or nibblings of plants in weeks.  I do however observe him and his momma every night in the neighbor's yard around 7 or 8.  As long as meal time in the Foo Foo family stays out of my yard I'll turn a blind eye to these activities.

I'm dangerously close to a music rut, which could spell very bad business right now.  Sarah turned me on to pandora.com, which is enjoyable for work.  I use last.fm at home and the only problem with both these services is that it generates a playlist for you based on songs you rate positively vs. negatively.  So when you throw one off beat song in there, it totally messes everything up.  We both had to waste our skips on weird songs that were being thrown into the rotation.

I get it though, Punk + Adult Alternative  = the Twang Kings.   No, no ... I totally make the connection.  It's a standardized test thing right? bread is to food as Twangs Kings is to poking my eyes out with very sharp objects.

Speaking of sharp objects, I broke a chopstick trying to put my hair up yesterday.  I've gone through a lot of chopsticks that way and forgot the shock and dismay when it snaps.  Then the contemplation.  Should I fish out the broken part later?  It's up and so tight that it'll actually look nice for a couple of hours if I leave it alone ... 

I might have to go in to get my hair thinned out though, I straightened it and it wasn't Barbie hair.  It was flat and limp.  Like cabbage patch yarn hair.  (Tim's head exploded at that statement I'm sure)

One last bit and I should go do dishes.  Mom and I were sitting after doing yard work last weekend and she said to me, "Is that your vein?" (the blue line on my thigh, completely flat and always been there btw)  Well, yes it is. "Oooooohhhhh you're going to get vericos veins!!"  Gee, Mom thanks for completely tapping into my insecurities and killing my self esteem.  It's your genes screwing me once again.