i curse thee

Having wallpaper in your home is fine, and can, in fact, look attractive. However, if you are incapable of properly prepping the walls (so that the paper comes off easily when it is to be removed), then maybe you should just stick to painting.

And if you have the unfortunate luck of buying a house with ugly wallpaper, do not even consider putting wallpaper over the old stuff. Some day, after you've moved, the new owner of your house will curse your name, I promise you. (Or, they may continue in stupidity and paper over the two layers of wallpaper...one day they also will be cursed.)

If you're bent on having ugly paper to line your kitchen drawers/cabinets, maybe you could just 'tack' it in, instead of using 'ultra-strong-it'll-never-ever-come-off' adhesive contact paper. (If you have bought a house with drawers/cabinets lined with such paper, you are forgiven for painting over it. Your name will go uncursed, and the original affixer of the evil will be held solely responsible.)

And lastly. I'm sure the idea of 'living in luxury' is one that every home-owner envisions and dreams of. However, as 'luxurious' as some ideas may sound, perhaps you should run the idea past other people before you do things that others will regret.

Now I know that when the idea first hit, it was brilliant, and (must have) sounded incredibly upscale. Nevertheless, simultaneously glueing and nailing carpet into several of your lower kitchen cabinets, is really not such a great idea.

Especially if you seem to have a fetish with nailing things down. I'm sure that glue would do the job well enough, or a nail in the 4 corners would also hold the carpet in place.

There is absolutely never ANY need to nail 5 rows of 4 nails (apprximately every 3 or so inches) into a cabinet shelf to keep the liner (be it carpet, velour, construction paper,or linoleum!) from moving. SO PLEASE REFRAIN FROM DOING SO EVER AGAIN!

For the LIFE of me I cannot even begin to understand what one must be thinking to actually nail (extremely nail, might I add) and glue a piece of carpet into a cabinet. Yes, we have extra pieces of our new carpet left over, but not ONCE did I suggest to my husband that we see if any of the pieces fit into a kitchen cabinet!

haughty customer representatives

I love holding the phone to my ear for 25 minutes, and listening to execrable jazz as I wait to speak with a customer representative. This experience becomes much more pleasant though, when you hear the jazz stop (at long last), and the ring of a telephone, letting you know that the waiting is finally over.

After being told about 25 times during the jazz concert (once a minute or so) that they appreciated my patience, I thought that maybe there would be some sort of apology for the incredibly long wait. Silly me. She was too busy reading thru her 'How to be a Snot--for dummies' book, apparently.

As I explained that we were worried that our pipes were going to freeze, she interrupted by telling me that it's not cold enough for that.

Now I may be a girl, and I may be blonde, but I DO know that the temperature must get pretty cold for freezing. Maybe since she works for the gas company (err...answering the phone anyway) she's now the expert on just when our pipes will freeze...but seeing as the temperatures dropped into the 20's last night, I felt that maybe she didn't know what the devil she was talking about. But why argue with a know-it-all? It's only annoying, and I'd be unable to poke her in the eyes if things got out of hand. So I let it go.

I then asked if they were indeed going to be turning our gas on today, as their confirmation email stated they would. After reading off our account number (which is about 127 numbers long), she then asked for our name. I told her it would be under David's name. She then inquired as to my name. Golly moses. Heaven forbid that she give information to the wrong person...you just never know what they might do with the top-secret intelligence.

I know that it's not a lot of fun answering phones. I did it as a job for a year. I also know, however, that it's pretty easy to be polite to people, and not make them feel like they're wasting your time--especially when they're being polite and not yelling about being on hold for almost a half hour. Maybe she hasn't taken the politeness course yet.

After asking for our address, she informed me that no, they had just made our account that morning, and they never send a person out the same day.
So why was the account not made two days ago when we initially made our request? And why were we sent an email that did in fact say we would have our gas turned on today? Heaven only knows, because I certainly don't, and if she did, she wasn't about to tell me.

But it's all good, because our pipes won't freeze. Our customer representative said so. And of course, she knows best.


::::just keep bowing and back away slowly::::

Feeling a bit stingy today?

Growing up with a father who loves hot sauce (as in, he likes to drink hot sauce packets from Taco Bell), I have also developed a taste for the stuff. In fact, I pretty much don't enjoy any tacos if they don't have at least one sauce packet poured on them. My dad has gone so far as to pour half a packet on his burrito before each bite...but seeing as his breath could then curl my eyelashes, I decided that that was a bit extreme.

Obviously, eating inside Taco Bell is always enjoyable and fine, because there are as many sauce packets as you need; it's when you go through the drive-thru that things get tricky. I've gotten to where I will check my bag for sauce before I drive off, because there's nothing worse than getting home and having no hot sauce packets for my food.

At the risk of sounding like an old woman, I'll say that things were much better in the old Taco Bell days...back when they'd just grab a handful of sauce and drop it in your bag. These days it's like all drive-thru customers are only allowed to have 2 packets with each meal.

When I buy 3 tacos, I would like to have 3 hot sauce packets. Not 1, not 2, and do NOT give me mild or fire sauce--those just taste nasty. If I buy nachos, I will need about 3 packets just for them, because I'd like a little sauce on each bite. It's really pretty simple.

So yesterday David and I were picking up a couple tacos. As always, I checked the bag as he waited for our waters. Finding only 3-4 packets, I asked him to please get some more. As the girl handed him our drinks he asked for a couple more hot sauces.

Either she is an extremely literal person, or a stingy sauce person, because she reached into the bin, and then carefully handed David 2 hot sauce packets.


Welcome to the days of sauce-rationing.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas!

Snowflakes were dancing on the breeze this morning as I left the house. I was hoping it would stay 'real snow' after it reached the ground, but it wasn't cold enough. Ah well...plenty of time for that I suppose.

Boxing

I love experiencing new things! On Saturday evening, I went to Memorial Hall to watch 'Guns & Hoses', which is where Firefighters and Police Officers box one another. It was an event held to raise money for the SAFE foundation, to help support the families of those whose spouse/parent has died in the line of active duty.

Of course David signed up as soon as he heard about the boxing matches and training, even though he had never boxed (aside from owning a speed bag, and a heavy-weight bag) before. His trainers were quite impressed with his natural talent, and didn't believe him when he told them he'd never trained before.
Unfortunately, about three weeks before the event, another boxer hit him in the ribs during a sparring match. And when he volunteered to fight another guy after that, he was hit in the ribs again. After being in a lot of pain for a week, he went in to a chiropractor who adjusted him, and popped the rib back into place (it had been jammed up quite a bit).

Obviously this type of injury halts training. And his halted all the way up to the day of the event. But at least his ribs were healed. However, he hadn't wanted to tell the coaches about the injury for fear that they'd not allow him to fight; so they assigned him to a big guy. A guy who was taller, and outweighed him by 30 lbs.

There were 23 fights, and David's was the 17th. We (friends and family) had excellent seats, and were having fun cheering for the Blue corner (police). I'd never been to a boxing match before, and enjoyed it a lot. The roar of the crowd when someone got a good hit, the louder roar when someone was knocked down, and the wild cheering that took place (at least in our section) when the police won.

We also enjoyed mocking the Miller Lite girls who walked around the ring in mini-skirts holding the Round number signs. One was called 'Mullet', which was a very accurate description of her hairstyle. The other was 'Stumpy', which was an accurate description of her legs. (Don't get me wrong. I have nothing against women with stumpy legs--just don't parade around in a mini as though you look hot ).

I can't describe how knotted my stomach felt as David came out of the smoky tunnel, but I screamed, whooped, and hollered loud enough to wake the dead. I wanted everyone there to know just how proud of him I was. It was very exciting, and I loved the rush of adrenaline I got as David danced around the ring. I stood the entire fight, and watched as he gave that big guy a run for his money!

It all came down to the last round, and I could tell David was really tired. It was close though, and nobody was quite sure who would win. Apparently the firefighter had thrown more punches, because he was named the winner, and stepped forward to accept his prize.

The guy was bigger, and I'm sure he'd been training the last 3 weeks before the match, yet David still kept up with him and made it a close, exciting match. He never gave up, cowered, or backed down. He took the punches, and gave his back. I felt SO proud of him that evening. He did an awesome job, and I loved watching him!

Fun times

Stop that racket!

It's a good thing David doesn't have to have long peaceful showers. Alexis has recently taken to kicking/hitting the bathroom door while yelling 'Dad-day' from the moment he steps in, till he walks out.

It was funny for the first 5 minutes. Now it's as jarring to the ears as her singing trolley. Unfortunately for me, I am unable to stick her in the closet with the trolley when the noise gets to be too much.

Immaturity

The worst kind of immaturity (in my humble, but deadly accurate opinion) is when someone attacks another person's life/dreams/accomplishments/etc.; when in the middle of an argument, disagreement, or misunderstanding, the person who is fast losing their footing, suddenly lets loose with a mile-long monologue of insults that have nothing whatsoever to do with the original topic of discussion.

Depending upon the relationship between the two, this can be laughable (as in, the one person knows so very little of the other that their "attack" is completely ridiculous), or so horribly painful, that one cannot even begin to describe the feelings that accompany this type of verbal abuse.

I have a difficult time respecting a person who does this type of thing and is not ashamed of it, but rather, flaunts it, as if it is something to be proud of.

It is never acceptable, or Christ-like in any way, to attack another person in such a fashion. To cut at someone's day-to-day life, and attack their dreams; to be so set on having the 'upper hand', so as to have to literally slash the other person down, is the epitome of immaturity.

Weekends

Mmmm. I had a wonderful, 5-day weekend. Relaxing. Fun. Responsibility-free. Quality (and quantity) time spent with my man. Can a weekend get much better?
My 25th birthday was yesterday, November 7th.

Two months prior to it, I told David that I would *really* love to take a 2-day trip away (without Alexis) for my birthday. As of a week ago, he had me convinced that 1) he couldn't get off work, 2) he hadn't made any such arrangements, and 3) we didn't have enough cash for such a trip. I was very crushed because, due to several different reasons, we will be unable to make a just-the-two-of-us trip away for a long while.

Last Thursday morning (the 4th), he was acting strangely, and told me we'd be going on a date before he left for work. When he made me stay out in the den for over half an hour, I began to wonder what kind of date this was going to turn out to be.

We dropped Alexis off at his parents, and then drove to Sonic for lunch. On our way over I asked where we were really going. Of course he wouldn't tell me, but I'm a sneaky thing and figured it out telepathically. Ok, actually, after driving for about half an hour, he had to call the resort (YAY!!!) that we were going to for better directions.

So we drove to, and stayed at a 5-star resort that overlooked the lake for 5 days! I don't have the pictures online yet, but when I do I'll post them. The drive down was gorgeous--the leaves are so beautiful in the fall. And we had our 'indian-summer', so the weather was perfect.

~It was so much fun browsing thru the little outlets holding David's hand, and making fun of the clothes (or people, depending upon which was the better target ).

~We played ping-pong for such long periods of time that we would get too tired to move our feet, and would only bend from the waist to try and hit the ball. David beat me every. single. game.

~We layed outside on the dock at night, listening to the water splash against the rocks, and gazing up at the stars.

~We watched Chicken Little, and for the rest of the weekend kept disrupting each other's conversation with the line, 'What were we talking about?'

~We took a tour thru Bridal Cave, and it was very interesting. I couldn't believe people actually wanted to get married there, but there have been over 2,000 weddings in it since 1949. I always wanted (and had) a beautiful, romantic wedding...not one with drippy, slimy walls, and a dirty, muddy floor. yuck.

And then for my birthday presents, David bought me four DVDs, along with a GORGEOUS (and expensive) watch. It is one of the kind that looks like a bracelet (I know there's a specific name for it, but seeing as I didn't buy it, I don't know what that name is. I have to go in to get 4 links removed, so I can find out then. ) Maybe I'll take a pic of it too, to post with the resort pictures. I LOVE it, and think it's one of the prettiest ones I've ever seen!!

All in all, I had a GREAT birthday weekend...my husband is the most wonderful man on the planet, and I bless the day I met him (can I actually bless a day? Probably not, technically ). I love how romantic, and thoughtful he is...coming up with such stunningly perfect plans for his little wife.

Born in a barn?

[rant]
There should be a law written forbidding the making of bathroom doors that do not close on their own. Who ever came up with such a DUMB idea? Of course, I'm not talking about single-stall bathrooms, because DUH, you're obviously going to close (and hopefully lock) the door once you walk in. I'm talking about the multi-stall bathrooms...the ones that, when the main door is left open, the stalls are able to be seen by the general public. Again I ask, who came up with such a dumb idea?

Seeing as I consider using the restroom to be a private thing, I have always been very aware of the 'public-ness' of public restrooms. I use them as little as possible, but everyone knows that you just cannot avoid it sometimes.

Personally, I prefer stalls that don't have gaps in between the door and the sides that are big enough to fit a small child through. You might as well leave the door open, because there WILL be someone who stands there and looks through the openings.

Then there are the toilets that are like 4 feet off the ground. Hello--I'd need a step ladder to climb up there folks.

The self-flushing toilets always freak me out a little, because, without fail, they will either completely fail to flush, leaving me searching for the little black button, or they will flush several times, while I hang on to the TP dispenser to avoid being sucked in (and of course, the ginormous rush of water never fails to splatter ALL over my clothes).

But all this I can handle, as long as the main door to the restroom is closed.
Our church has a small 2-stall restroom. When the main door is open, anyone can see in *very* easily. Every time I walk in (even if it is to just blow my nose, or put on lipstick) I close the door behind me--especially if someone is in one of the stalls. It is especially important if the sermon is starting, because the bathroom is right beside the pews, and everyone within 15 feet can clearly hear with the door open (gross, right?).

So WHY is it so hard for the females at our church to CLOSE THE STINKIN' DOOR?!? After closing the door TWO times on Sunday, to protect the innocent ears of those near-by, I became irritated at the thoughtlessness of some people. Do they really not care that anyone walking by can see their little feet, and hear them tinkle?!
[end rant]