So, I suppose I should have blogged about this ordeal AS IT HAPPENED... you would have gotten the authentic feel of things as they happened... real life, MINUTE-TO-MINUTE updates! You could have ridden the roller coaster of "holy FUCK MY DOG IS GOING TO DIE" with me and your little hearts would have swelled with sorrow or worry. Nah. You get nothing like that.
Instead, I will attempt, to the best of my ability, to recount to you in some sort of chronological order the events that happened after it was decided that Blue, my beauteous Blue Doberman, would have a lump checked to see if it was cancer. Breast cancer, essentially. Mammary tumor. Awesome. Dogs get these? Dogs and cats get all kinds of fancy human ailments? Sign me the fuck up.
For a little history on Blue, you can read here:
Blooba
This was also my first post to receive a negative comment. The horror!
So, Blue has Von Willebrand disease. Essentially, it's a lack of clotting factor in her blood. Very common in Dobes. In fact, they should never have bred her. (Bred? Breeded?) But, I digress. This was the reason I never had her spayed. The surgery would have been too risky, and I feared my poor dog would bleed out on the operating table (which I'm finding out now was not a completely irrational fear) so after lengthy consultations with my vet, we opted against it. Blue is very healthy and happy.
Within the past year, she started to develop a couple of fatty cysts or tumors under the surface of her skin. We kept an eye on them and they did not appear to be a problem. During one annual checkup, one of the vet techs discovered a fairly sizable nodule in one of Blue's mammary... um... bags? Her milk bags? Dog boobs.
Ha. Boobs.
Anyway... this thing nearly made me vomit every time I felt it. It was very hard and just gross. My vet cautioned that it would be risky to REMOVE anything, since Blue is a bleeder. So, I just kept an eye on it. She developed a couple other ones, but still seemed to be in excellent health. A few weeks ago, I took her to the vet because one of her "bags" appeared to be swollen, and when she hopped up on the table, we discovered she had dropped a few pounds... which worried me. It was only three pounds, but it has always been a struggle to get Blue to lose weight. Her eating had not changed, nor had her activity levels. Immediately, I was concerned. Previously, the vet had mentioned doing a needle biopsy, just to see whether or not the lump was benign. "Minimally invasive," she termed it. I asked now if that was a possibility... granted we couldn't do any major surgery but the biopsy would be, say it with me people, MINIMALLY INVASIVE. Sure. We can do that. Sweet. Bring her down Thursday ad 8:30 am and we'll put her under and check everything out.
Bitchin'.
Stay tuned for Thursday's saga.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Thursday, October 29, 2009
"Shock"ing.
Ahhhhh, winter is upon us. What's that you say? Technically it's still fall? Oh sure, we may not have changed the clocks back... the first day of winter is not for another two or so months... but it's winter in the Northeast, kids. Fall happened back on June 13th, and we're in full-fledged winter. I'm not going to bitch about the weather, because I don't mind the occasional cold, dreary day. It makes for good naps. And, as I said in my previous post, I'm gonna get in all the naps I can before it's time to start popping out some offspring. The only time I really can't stand the weather is if I have to go somewhere and look presentable... trying to maintain some semblance of hair control is daunting when walking headfirst into wind-whipped rain. Especially if you have a crap umbrella and the thing flips backward on you.
The thing that I really do not like about this time of year, term it what you will, is the dryness. When I shower, I dry my body but not my face. This way, by the time I put on the moisturizer, my face is still moist and receptive to the emollient properties of said philosophy "hope in a jar." (Awesome AWESOME product by the way. You know I'm not getting paid to endorse it with a whopping 17 followers, so take my word. Especially if you have problem skin.) Some women switch to a heavier cream vs. a lotion in the drier months, but this still tends to leave me greasy. I do exfoliate twice a week with a fine-grained scrub... this helps get rid of the dead skin so that your moisturizer works better.
There is one thing about dryness that is far worse than the tight skin, and that is getting shocked. My office is carpeted, and my doorknob is made of brushed nickel or steel. Every time I get up to leave my office, I have to open the door. I work in radio so I have to leave the door closed when I am on the air. Let me tell you... EVERY GODDAMN TIME I GO NEAR THAT DOORKNOB I GET SHOCKED. Not just a teeny little static electricity zap, but a painful shock that causes me to recoil and shake my hand back and forth as if I've just touched a hot stove. It has gotten to the point that I dread opening the door. I walk up to the door, hand outstretched. My hand hovers over the doorknob for a few seconds. I grimace and pull my hand back for a second. "It's ok," I think, "you can do it." I pause, take a deep breath, and slowly extend my hand again. As my fingertips touch the doorknob, I get a jolt and silently (or sometimes loudly) curse the carpet, my office, the building, and the trees and heavens above. Remember the scene in Office Space where Peter is just getting to the office and has to open the door? SAME FKN THING.
I've thought of maybe putting something over the doorknob... getting one of those rubber covers that people use when childproofing their homes... you know the kind that spin around if you don't grip them tightly? Yeah those. Callers to the show have suggested a humidifier or some latex-based paint. These are all wonderful options but the actually require a lot more effort than I'm willing to put forward. You know those situations in life... like in your house or something... where you are constantly battling something (a door lock, a lampshade, an extension cord... whatever) where it would probably take all of five minutes to fix it, but you'd rather just suffer through the trouble rather than solve the problem? This is one of those. So, for now, I'll just keep getting shocked until I feel like dealing with the problem. Or until I get laid off.
The thing that I really do not like about this time of year, term it what you will, is the dryness. When I shower, I dry my body but not my face. This way, by the time I put on the moisturizer, my face is still moist and receptive to the emollient properties of said philosophy "hope in a jar." (Awesome AWESOME product by the way. You know I'm not getting paid to endorse it with a whopping 17 followers, so take my word. Especially if you have problem skin.) Some women switch to a heavier cream vs. a lotion in the drier months, but this still tends to leave me greasy. I do exfoliate twice a week with a fine-grained scrub... this helps get rid of the dead skin so that your moisturizer works better.
There is one thing about dryness that is far worse than the tight skin, and that is getting shocked. My office is carpeted, and my doorknob is made of brushed nickel or steel. Every time I get up to leave my office, I have to open the door. I work in radio so I have to leave the door closed when I am on the air. Let me tell you... EVERY GODDAMN TIME I GO NEAR THAT DOORKNOB I GET SHOCKED. Not just a teeny little static electricity zap, but a painful shock that causes me to recoil and shake my hand back and forth as if I've just touched a hot stove. It has gotten to the point that I dread opening the door. I walk up to the door, hand outstretched. My hand hovers over the doorknob for a few seconds. I grimace and pull my hand back for a second. "It's ok," I think, "you can do it." I pause, take a deep breath, and slowly extend my hand again. As my fingertips touch the doorknob, I get a jolt and silently (or sometimes loudly) curse the carpet, my office, the building, and the trees and heavens above. Remember the scene in Office Space where Peter is just getting to the office and has to open the door? SAME FKN THING.
I've thought of maybe putting something over the doorknob... getting one of those rubber covers that people use when childproofing their homes... you know the kind that spin around if you don't grip them tightly? Yeah those. Callers to the show have suggested a humidifier or some latex-based paint. These are all wonderful options but the actually require a lot more effort than I'm willing to put forward. You know those situations in life... like in your house or something... where you are constantly battling something (a door lock, a lampshade, an extension cord... whatever) where it would probably take all of five minutes to fix it, but you'd rather just suffer through the trouble rather than solve the problem? This is one of those. So, for now, I'll just keep getting shocked until I feel like dealing with the problem. Or until I get laid off.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Jumping back in with two feet!
Really, there's no excuse for my not keeping up with my blog. I started on a whirlwind track, picking up a few followers here and there, and fostering wonderful friendships with other blogosphere broads, and then pfffffffffffffffffffffffff. Pop. Fizz.
So, in an attempt to get back into the swing of things (for the fortieth time) I'm going to grab myself by the proverbial balls and start with a little homework. I never did it in high school, so I may as well do it now... best way to tackle an assignment? Get one from Mama Kat's WRITER'S WORKSHOP!
This week's topics:
1.) Create a list of playground dos and don'ts.
2.) Describe what makes you want to live a life with passion.
3.) Write a poem describing who you are and/or who you are not.
4.) Describe how motherhood has changed you?
5.) Describe how you are hoping motherhood will change you?
I choose number five, but I'm going to do more of a stream of consciousness answer. I figure this is quite fitting given the mild meltdowns I've been having lately about being 32, single and childless.
A little background: I want to be a Mother more than anything. ANYTHING. Now, my goal is not to just run out in search of the elusive (or not so in some of your cases!) plus sign on the pregnancy test. I may not have it alllll together in life, but I'm pretty responsible and realize that it's not in my best interest to have a baby right now. It does get difficult... given the rate at which friends and former classmates are popping out kids. It's not easy that most of the blogs I follow are those of Mommy bloggers. Every week, LITERALLY, someone is having a baby or announcing that she is pregnant. Now... at 32, I'm not ancient, per se, but I'm no spring chicken. Just like there is a stigma attached to seemingly great unattached men with no baggage (what's wrong with him?) there is also one attached to women who are approaching their mid-30's who are single with no kids. I have no baggage, save for this one big giant glaring heavy object: the biological clock.
Is mine ticking? Sure. Doesn't mean that I start making baby plans on a first date. I like to think the reason I'm still not married is because I didn't want to settle. I guess I'm waiting for my lobster. Remember Phoebe in friends talking about Ross and Rachel? Here's a primer if you missed it:
Could be that the lobster is in someone else's trap right now. Who knows. I guess I just have to be patient.
Regarding the actual question posed by Mama Kat... how am I hoping that Motherhood will change me? Well... I'm really not sure about that. I'm already a very caring, protective person. My astrological sign is Cancer, so I am very nurturing by nature. I like to take care of people and provide for them and feed them. I like making my home nice, and really, IS IT SO HARD JUST TO FILL IT WITH A FRIGGIN' FAMILY AT THIS POINT?
Oh... sorry, fell off the sane wagon for a minute there. :) I suppose I hope that Motherhood would make me more tolerant of other people's kids, just like Scary Mommy had hoped three kids ago. Like... I love my friends' children, but other people's kids drive me nuts. Or perhaps it's just that their parents allow certain behavior to take place. Now... don't get me wrong here... I have tons of Mom friends and read all the Mom blogs, so I am able to differentiate when it is just easier to let your kid do something less desirable to placate him/her rather than having a meltdown ensue, versus when someone's kid just sucks. I realize that sometimes, letting your kid run amok makes YOUR life easier. I get it. You can usually see quiet desperation and exhaustion emitting from said Mom, and you just know... if little Jimmy doesn't get to empty out the dirt from a couple of $4.99 plants at The Home Depot, everyone is going to suffer. Sometimes, you just have to give in and buy that toy your kids are screaming for, even though you may already have a million of the same item (see Loukia's take on this) and you may even let them eat a bunch of junk food when the veggie sticks just aren't cutting it.
I hope that Motherhood fulfills me in all the ways that I've set it up to. I long to feel that swell of unconditional love everyone talks about when you first see and hold your baby. I am anxious to experience all the firsts of my little offspring... watching them grow up and discover the world...
That said...
I do realize that once you become a parent, you will never sleep again. You will spend many years going to the bathroom with the door open. Showers become a luxury rather than a necessity. Girls' night comes once every six months (maaaaybe) rather than every weekend. "Me" time is extremely hard to come by. Going out with your spouse for dinner? Pff... good luck. So, while I have this time to myself, I'm going to sleep late whenever I can, stay out late whenever I can, lounge around and watch tv shirk my duties when I feel like it, take afternoon-long naps when I can, read all the books I want, buy expensive jeans when they fit like magic, eat at fancy restaurants, get massages, travel the world, mope and be cranky when I get sick, but most importantly...
I'm going to enjoy my perky boobs.
(oYo)
So, in an attempt to get back into the swing of things (for the fortieth time) I'm going to grab myself by the proverbial balls and start with a little homework. I never did it in high school, so I may as well do it now... best way to tackle an assignment? Get one from Mama Kat's WRITER'S WORKSHOP!
This week's topics:
1.) Create a list of playground dos and don'ts.
2.) Describe what makes you want to live a life with passion.
3.) Write a poem describing who you are and/or who you are not.
4.) Describe how motherhood has changed you?
5.) Describe how you are hoping motherhood will change you?
I choose number five, but I'm going to do more of a stream of consciousness answer. I figure this is quite fitting given the mild meltdowns I've been having lately about being 32, single and childless.
A little background: I want to be a Mother more than anything. ANYTHING. Now, my goal is not to just run out in search of the elusive (or not so in some of your cases!) plus sign on the pregnancy test. I may not have it alllll together in life, but I'm pretty responsible and realize that it's not in my best interest to have a baby right now. It does get difficult... given the rate at which friends and former classmates are popping out kids. It's not easy that most of the blogs I follow are those of Mommy bloggers. Every week, LITERALLY, someone is having a baby or announcing that she is pregnant. Now... at 32, I'm not ancient, per se, but I'm no spring chicken. Just like there is a stigma attached to seemingly great unattached men with no baggage (what's wrong with him?) there is also one attached to women who are approaching their mid-30's who are single with no kids. I have no baggage, save for this one big giant glaring heavy object: the biological clock.
Is mine ticking? Sure. Doesn't mean that I start making baby plans on a first date. I like to think the reason I'm still not married is because I didn't want to settle. I guess I'm waiting for my lobster. Remember Phoebe in friends talking about Ross and Rachel? Here's a primer if you missed it:
Could be that the lobster is in someone else's trap right now. Who knows. I guess I just have to be patient.
Regarding the actual question posed by Mama Kat... how am I hoping that Motherhood will change me? Well... I'm really not sure about that. I'm already a very caring, protective person. My astrological sign is Cancer, so I am very nurturing by nature. I like to take care of people and provide for them and feed them. I like making my home nice, and really, IS IT SO HARD JUST TO FILL IT WITH A FRIGGIN' FAMILY AT THIS POINT?
Oh... sorry, fell off the sane wagon for a minute there. :) I suppose I hope that Motherhood would make me more tolerant of other people's kids, just like Scary Mommy had hoped three kids ago. Like... I love my friends' children, but other people's kids drive me nuts. Or perhaps it's just that their parents allow certain behavior to take place. Now... don't get me wrong here... I have tons of Mom friends and read all the Mom blogs, so I am able to differentiate when it is just easier to let your kid do something less desirable to placate him/her rather than having a meltdown ensue, versus when someone's kid just sucks. I realize that sometimes, letting your kid run amok makes YOUR life easier. I get it. You can usually see quiet desperation and exhaustion emitting from said Mom, and you just know... if little Jimmy doesn't get to empty out the dirt from a couple of $4.99 plants at The Home Depot, everyone is going to suffer. Sometimes, you just have to give in and buy that toy your kids are screaming for, even though you may already have a million of the same item (see Loukia's take on this) and you may even let them eat a bunch of junk food when the veggie sticks just aren't cutting it.
I hope that Motherhood fulfills me in all the ways that I've set it up to. I long to feel that swell of unconditional love everyone talks about when you first see and hold your baby. I am anxious to experience all the firsts of my little offspring... watching them grow up and discover the world...
That said...
I do realize that once you become a parent, you will never sleep again. You will spend many years going to the bathroom with the door open. Showers become a luxury rather than a necessity. Girls' night comes once every six months (maaaaybe) rather than every weekend. "Me" time is extremely hard to come by. Going out with your spouse for dinner? Pff... good luck. So, while I have this time to myself, I'm going to sleep late whenever I can, stay out late whenever I can, lounge around and watch tv shirk my duties when I feel like it, take afternoon-long naps when I can, read all the books I want, buy expensive jeans when they fit like magic, eat at fancy restaurants, get massages, travel the world, mope and be cranky when I get sick, but most importantly...
I'm going to enjoy my perky boobs.
(oYo)
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Newspaper guy.
This, I guess, is kind of a "you don't know how good you have it until it's gone" story...
On the way into work, right before I pull into my parking garage, there is a guy at the intersection selling newspapers. For the longest time I would see him every morning. He works both sides of the intersection... goes up to each and every car to show off his goods... almost like a really persistent panhandler. He would come up to my window, and I'd shake my head, slightly annoyed. Occasionally I would crack the window and tell him I got the papers delivered at work. I was flooded with a sense of entitlement... like "Gawd... this guy sees my friggin' car every day... you'd think by now he'd know I DON'T WANT A PAPER."
The street is three lanes wide, and he'd dart in and out of traffic. When the light was green, he would stand right in between two lanes and try to hawk his papers to whomever drove by on either side. It got to the point where people were swerving to avoid him. I would get annoyed and think "hey dumbass... why don't you get the f out of the way so you don't get killed," or better yet, "hey dumbass, I have to make it to work on time, and I can't possibly wait another 2.7 minutes for this light to cycle so GET OUT OF MY WAY." Sure dude, I'll just drive 8 feet out of my way to avoid hitting you... no problem. It got to the point where I almost called... someone... to report that this guy was a danger to not only himself, but commuters in the area. I would actually yell at him from inside my car (windows closed of course) as I passed by. "Dude, get the hell out of the way!" or "This guy has to be friggin' kidding me... get on the sidewalk already."
And then... one day... he was gone. Some new guy was there... I thought maybe the other guy was just out sick for a while. Day after day, new guy would be standing there... not moving... planted firmly on the corner, his face expressionless. He would stand between two lanes occasionally, but he wouldn't go from car to car. At first, it was a relief... like, "oh thank God they finally got rid of that idiot."
Then, as the days wore on... I grew frustrated. I became upset with new guy's lack of initiative. He didn't work both sides of the intersection. He was ALWAYS smoking a cigarette. He wore the same shirt every day... one of those knockoff AFFLICTION or Ed Hardy type tee shirts... all patterned and festooned with gold foil swirls. He scowled. Other guy always had a huge smile on his face. Even when people didn't make eye contact with him. HUGE smile. New guy? Not so much. He looked straight ahead, and waited for people to call HIM over, instead of making himself available to every single car. It was all about him, not all about you.
Now I wanted to call and complain about new guy. I didn't like the contstant smoking, and he didn't seem very friendly. Doesn't seem like a good way to sell newspapers to me... but I don't think this guy cared much about the bottom line. He was just there to fill time... he had no intention of making a career out of it. He just did the job because it was there. For the time being, selling newspapers seemed cool for the moment, and the job was just THERE, so while he was into it, it worked for him. Someday, he'll probably decide, "you know what? I don't want to sell newspapers after all," and quit without giving any notice. Probably just leave right in the middle of his shift.
I became sad. Where was other guy? Was he ok? Did he get hit by a car? Did they have so many people like me that actually DID complain that they moved him to another intersection? Was he having problems in his life? I felt like I would never see the other guy again. On the days that new newspaper guy wasn't around, I always wondered if original newspaper guy was going to randomly show up. If I didn't see anyone around, I'd crane my neck to see if maybe original newspaper guy was lurking around a corner, or hiding on a side street. Nothing.
Then, one day a couple of weeks ago, I come around the corner, and I see an orange safety vest. It was original dude! He was back! New guy NEVER wore a safety vest. But then again, he had no ambition to really sell those papers, so he really had no need to be seen darting from lane to lane. I pulled up at the stop light, and original guy comes over... smile bigger than ever... shows me one paper, I shake my head... he flips the pile over and points to the other paper (as if to say "you suuuuuuuuuure? C'mon, you KNOW you want a paper!) and I smile and shake my head. I was so relieved that he was ok. It was so nice to see him there. I didn't even care to know what happened to the new guy...
I'll never yell at original guy again for being in the lanes. I'll slow down so I there's no chance I run over him with my car. I'll smile every time he walks by and at least tell him "no thanks, no paper for me" instead of staring straight ahead and ignoring the person who is right outside my window. I won't get annoyed with original guy... he's just trying to make a living, and no matter how much people suck, he always has that smile on his face. Initially, it felt like an obstruction was gone from my day. I just hadn't been able to figure out a way to co-exist and incorporate newspaper guy into my daily activities. But now I was free to cruise along with nary a tap of the brakes and go about my day. But very very soon after, I realized that even though the obstruction was gone, things just weren't the same. You can't always cruise through life on a straight road with no obstacles. So from now on, I will find a way to peacefully co-exist with original newspaper guy. Having him there in the middle of my traffic pattern is far more preferable to having the other dude just sitting there, complacent, on the side of the road.
On the way into work, right before I pull into my parking garage, there is a guy at the intersection selling newspapers. For the longest time I would see him every morning. He works both sides of the intersection... goes up to each and every car to show off his goods... almost like a really persistent panhandler. He would come up to my window, and I'd shake my head, slightly annoyed. Occasionally I would crack the window and tell him I got the papers delivered at work. I was flooded with a sense of entitlement... like "Gawd... this guy sees my friggin' car every day... you'd think by now he'd know I DON'T WANT A PAPER."
The street is three lanes wide, and he'd dart in and out of traffic. When the light was green, he would stand right in between two lanes and try to hawk his papers to whomever drove by on either side. It got to the point where people were swerving to avoid him. I would get annoyed and think "hey dumbass... why don't you get the f out of the way so you don't get killed," or better yet, "hey dumbass, I have to make it to work on time, and I can't possibly wait another 2.7 minutes for this light to cycle so GET OUT OF MY WAY." Sure dude, I'll just drive 8 feet out of my way to avoid hitting you... no problem. It got to the point where I almost called... someone... to report that this guy was a danger to not only himself, but commuters in the area. I would actually yell at him from inside my car (windows closed of course) as I passed by. "Dude, get the hell out of the way!" or "This guy has to be friggin' kidding me... get on the sidewalk already."
And then... one day... he was gone. Some new guy was there... I thought maybe the other guy was just out sick for a while. Day after day, new guy would be standing there... not moving... planted firmly on the corner, his face expressionless. He would stand between two lanes occasionally, but he wouldn't go from car to car. At first, it was a relief... like, "oh thank God they finally got rid of that idiot."
Then, as the days wore on... I grew frustrated. I became upset with new guy's lack of initiative. He didn't work both sides of the intersection. He was ALWAYS smoking a cigarette. He wore the same shirt every day... one of those knockoff AFFLICTION or Ed Hardy type tee shirts... all patterned and festooned with gold foil swirls. He scowled. Other guy always had a huge smile on his face. Even when people didn't make eye contact with him. HUGE smile. New guy? Not so much. He looked straight ahead, and waited for people to call HIM over, instead of making himself available to every single car. It was all about him, not all about you.
Now I wanted to call and complain about new guy. I didn't like the contstant smoking, and he didn't seem very friendly. Doesn't seem like a good way to sell newspapers to me... but I don't think this guy cared much about the bottom line. He was just there to fill time... he had no intention of making a career out of it. He just did the job because it was there. For the time being, selling newspapers seemed cool for the moment, and the job was just THERE, so while he was into it, it worked for him. Someday, he'll probably decide, "you know what? I don't want to sell newspapers after all," and quit without giving any notice. Probably just leave right in the middle of his shift.
I became sad. Where was other guy? Was he ok? Did he get hit by a car? Did they have so many people like me that actually DID complain that they moved him to another intersection? Was he having problems in his life? I felt like I would never see the other guy again. On the days that new newspaper guy wasn't around, I always wondered if original newspaper guy was going to randomly show up. If I didn't see anyone around, I'd crane my neck to see if maybe original newspaper guy was lurking around a corner, or hiding on a side street. Nothing.
Then, one day a couple of weeks ago, I come around the corner, and I see an orange safety vest. It was original dude! He was back! New guy NEVER wore a safety vest. But then again, he had no ambition to really sell those papers, so he really had no need to be seen darting from lane to lane. I pulled up at the stop light, and original guy comes over... smile bigger than ever... shows me one paper, I shake my head... he flips the pile over and points to the other paper (as if to say "you suuuuuuuuuure? C'mon, you KNOW you want a paper!) and I smile and shake my head. I was so relieved that he was ok. It was so nice to see him there. I didn't even care to know what happened to the new guy...
I'll never yell at original guy again for being in the lanes. I'll slow down so I there's no chance I run over him with my car. I'll smile every time he walks by and at least tell him "no thanks, no paper for me" instead of staring straight ahead and ignoring the person who is right outside my window. I won't get annoyed with original guy... he's just trying to make a living, and no matter how much people suck, he always has that smile on his face. Initially, it felt like an obstruction was gone from my day. I just hadn't been able to figure out a way to co-exist and incorporate newspaper guy into my daily activities. But now I was free to cruise along with nary a tap of the brakes and go about my day. But very very soon after, I realized that even though the obstruction was gone, things just weren't the same. You can't always cruise through life on a straight road with no obstacles. So from now on, I will find a way to peacefully co-exist with original newspaper guy. Having him there in the middle of my traffic pattern is far more preferable to having the other dude just sitting there, complacent, on the side of the road.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
New neighbor.
Went outside just now to look at some gardening tasks before I get ready for work at the bar. I noticed this GIANT wasp-like thing flying around, so I stood on the deck to see where it was going. Oh... gee... what's that little clump of mud doing there on the side of my house SIX INCHES AWAY FROM MY BACK DOOR? A nest? A NEST? This thing is building a NEST on my HOUSE? WTF?
Immediately, I ran in the house and went online to Google this thing. Though, not before doing several moves from the "I'm being dive-bombed by a big effing flying thing" dance. So, turns out, it's called a Mud Dauber.
Not to be confused with THIS Dauber:
(I'm hilarious. Really. Who thinks of that?)
You can read about them here.
All the info you never knew you needed about Mud Daubers
The females make these nests (always doing the bitch work) that look like organ pipes, stuff them full of spiders, lay an egg, and then seal the bad boy up. Then the male guards it until the babies hatch. Now, they don't sting (allegedly) unless you handle them or step on them. I don't want to leave it there, but at the same time, I feel bad destroying it. I mean, she's clearly been working on it for a while... I have no sack when it comes to these things. I'd be upset if someone destroyed my house. Though, I don't look like these things and I sting only mildly. More like a pinch from a rogue lobster claw.
SO, I don't know what to do. DO I leave it? No right? I'm nuts if I leave it there. I will have to wait until tomorrow night and soak it with wasp spray, then wait to knock it down until the next day. I just feel bad doing that. I'm such a softie. They do kill spiders, but I don't mind spiders at all, so it's kinda useless for me. Hmph... what to do...
Immediately, I ran in the house and went online to Google this thing. Though, not before doing several moves from the "I'm being dive-bombed by a big effing flying thing" dance. So, turns out, it's called a Mud Dauber.
Not to be confused with THIS Dauber:
(I'm hilarious. Really. Who thinks of that?)
You can read about them here.
All the info you never knew you needed about Mud Daubers
The females make these nests (always doing the bitch work) that look like organ pipes, stuff them full of spiders, lay an egg, and then seal the bad boy up. Then the male guards it until the babies hatch. Now, they don't sting (allegedly) unless you handle them or step on them. I don't want to leave it there, but at the same time, I feel bad destroying it. I mean, she's clearly been working on it for a while... I have no sack when it comes to these things. I'd be upset if someone destroyed my house. Though, I don't look like these things and I sting only mildly. More like a pinch from a rogue lobster claw.
SO, I don't know what to do. DO I leave it? No right? I'm nuts if I leave it there. I will have to wait until tomorrow night and soak it with wasp spray, then wait to knock it down until the next day. I just feel bad doing that. I'm such a softie. They do kill spiders, but I don't mind spiders at all, so it's kinda useless for me. Hmph... what to do...
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Hannahbells
I'm sorry, but we really need to discuss what I got in my cheese share this week...
HANNAHBELLS!
These are the cutest friggin things on the PLANET! SO adorable. They are a soft cow's-milk cheese... handmade with just a smidge of rosemary. Really delicious. You can pop 'em in your mouth as is, or spread them on a cracker. They are a little bigger than a thimble... I can't stand how cute they are!
You can find them at Shy Brothers Farm in Westport, MA. I highly recommend them. Unless you're lactose intolerant... then, well, sucks for you. :)
HANNAHBELLS!
These are the cutest friggin things on the PLANET! SO adorable. They are a soft cow's-milk cheese... handmade with just a smidge of rosemary. Really delicious. You can pop 'em in your mouth as is, or spread them on a cracker. They are a little bigger than a thimble... I can't stand how cute they are!
You can find them at Shy Brothers Farm in Westport, MA. I highly recommend them. Unless you're lactose intolerant... then, well, sucks for you. :)
Happy Thursday.
Ahhhh... almost the end of the week. Technically today is my Friday since I'm off tomorrow for a casting call. Thursdays used to be my early day at work, and were my favorite. I'd stay later the other days so that I could go home after the show was over. Best. Day. Of. My. Week. But, then, schedules change, so lately I've just been working a normal day. Going to see one of my gfs today to visit with her handsome little son to satisfy my baby urges. :) Can't wait to see him! He has the cutest little pout, and I just want to poke him in the face repeatedly... in a totally non-kid-harming kinda way.
Casting call you ask? Well... sure I'll elaborate. Last year, I tried out for Next Food Network Star. (Season 5, which is currently airing right now.) I made it through quite a few rounds of casting... several trips to New York City... interviews on paper... interviews on camera. I was rather heartbroken that I didn't make it. I was hoping to be the "person with no formal culinary training who is a fantastic home cook, who SHINES in front of the camera." There are usually one or two in the ten-member cast. I may have not triumphed in every one of the culinary challenges, but damn it, I would have KILLED in front of the camera. Not to toot my own horn, but I am, let's face it, quite the entertainer. I can juggle multiple tasks while keeping you engaged AND teaching you a technique. Plus, I'll make you laugh. And I can ad lib like crazy. Pan just fell off the stove? No problem... I'll tell you how to recover. Fridge just blew up? Let's grill over the flames baby! It's frustrating to watch contestants get flustered on camera and know that I would have shined. Though in the same sense, I muse to myself, "well crap... I wouldn't have thought to come up with that potato truffle emulsion..."
I'm flying down for the day, and this is the easy part. Get in front of the casting directors, and show 'em what you're made of. Done. :)
Casting call you ask? Well... sure I'll elaborate. Last year, I tried out for Next Food Network Star. (Season 5, which is currently airing right now.) I made it through quite a few rounds of casting... several trips to New York City... interviews on paper... interviews on camera. I was rather heartbroken that I didn't make it. I was hoping to be the "person with no formal culinary training who is a fantastic home cook, who SHINES in front of the camera." There are usually one or two in the ten-member cast. I may have not triumphed in every one of the culinary challenges, but damn it, I would have KILLED in front of the camera. Not to toot my own horn, but I am, let's face it, quite the entertainer. I can juggle multiple tasks while keeping you engaged AND teaching you a technique. Plus, I'll make you laugh. And I can ad lib like crazy. Pan just fell off the stove? No problem... I'll tell you how to recover. Fridge just blew up? Let's grill over the flames baby! It's frustrating to watch contestants get flustered on camera and know that I would have shined. Though in the same sense, I muse to myself, "well crap... I wouldn't have thought to come up with that potato truffle emulsion..."
I'm flying down for the day, and this is the easy part. Get in front of the casting directors, and show 'em what you're made of. Done. :)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
