Monday, October 31, 2011

A dark age, indeed. Age of inconvenience! No plumbing, no electricity, no nothing! Oh, hang it all!!!

Happy Halloween, kids!

I apologize for my absence. No, I have not died (although with the temperature in my house, that may be up for some debate). 

It snowed on Saturday. 

I'm at work now and taking advantage of the power outlets to charge my mobile, ipod, and laptop. And before I leave early to go to Halloween festivities at Big Sis #2's house, I shall go in search of firewood and fill the back of my car with as much of it as I can fit. 

I think I may have previously bemoaned the lack of practical architecture that went into the designing of my house. The fireplace is in the Big TV Room (as opposed to the small one; why do we need two??). The Big TV Room has no upstairs rooms over it, and therefore has a really high ceiling, so that it could have floor-to-ceiling windows that are poorly insulated, and skylights that are also poorly insulated, so that when we attempt to make a fire in the fireplace, most of the heat is sucked right up and out through the windows. 

Basically like the original designers of the house were saying, "Hey we're so totally sure we will NEVER be without central heating in the winter that we don't care if this room is sucking the warmth right out through the badly constructed insulation. The fireplace just looks so nice right here in the pointless giant room!"


You'd think that, growing up with Mum, I would have inherited her love of money and material things and status symbols, instead of turning out the total opposite. When we went looking at new houses when I was 16, I took one look at the big room in this house and said "This is going to be a B*TCH to heat in the winter."

And Mum was like, "Oh but it's so nice and spacious!"

And PSE&G has opined that power may not be back until Wednesday. So until then we'll be stumbling around the house in the dark, feeding logs into the fire that only warms the house up about 2 degrees, and listening to the constant hum of our neighbor's generator. 


Ah well. 

So until my power is restored, or until Boss decides to disappear long enough for me to properly catch up on blogs, I shall bid you adieu. I hope you all have a fabulous Halloween!!

Friday, October 28, 2011

Roll the windows down; This cool night air is curious

So now onto Jeep#2! In case you've forgotten since the Car Post Part 1, I'm talking about this car:

Unlike Jeep1, Jeep2's problems WERE ABSOLUTELY NOT my fault. 

PTSD has left me uncertain of the exact chronological order of Jeep2's many issues. I think the recall notices came first: 
1. The brakes were recalled, because apparently they had a tendency to fail without any reason or warning. 

2. The seatbelts were recalled, because apparently they had a tendency to malfunction and trap the passengers.

3. The heated seats were recalled, because apparently they had a tendency to spontaneously combust. 

4. The brakes were recalled a second time, because apparently the new ones had a tendency to fail as well. 

After all of these recalls were fixed at Bergen Dodge, and then at Ramsey Chrysler after Bergen Dodge went out of business, I experienced the following recurring problems:
- The brakes were rather temperamental, and would not work immediately if you were driving downhill, in the rain, or too closely behind an expensive car. Oh and if it's snowing? LOL. 

- All three of the seatbelts in the back didn't work. Two of them were permanently buckled and you could only be buckled in if you used your ninja skills and shimmied underneath the buckled seatbelt. The one in the middle refused to buckle at all. 

- The heated seats apparently didn't work at all either, according to various passengers. I myself was never brave enough to actually turn them on.

And it seemed that every time I brought Jeep2 in for it's regular service, they found something new wrong with it. And that something new usually cost upwards of $500-$1,000.  Because of course none of it was covered under the warranty (I'm pretty sure the "warranty" never existed in the first place). 

The the Weird Thing started happening. The first time was on my way home from school. I had a late class at Ramapo that night and was flooring it home to watch the new episode of House (this was before House got retarded). About 5 minutes away from my house, while rounding a corner, I noticed that my RPM gauge had started to go nuts for no apparent reason, and I was like wtf?

And then the car died. 

Just died. Because it had power steering, I couldn't really steer the car onto the side of the road. And the brakes weren't working. That was totally awesome. 

I had the car towed, missed House, and then like 2 days later picked the car up from the dealership and paid some heinous amount of money to fix "an issue with the central computer." 

I don't know much about cars, but that sounds like total BS to me. 

A couple days later, one morning on the way to school, THE EXACT SAME THING HAPPENED. So I had the car towed again. And paid a mothereffing fortune to get it fixed again, because the c*ntrags at Bergen Dodge listed it as being a completely different problem than last time, so I couldn't accuse them of not fixing it last time. But what are you gonna do? I worked and went to school full time--I needed a functioning car. 

On the way home from picking the supposedly fixed Jeep2 up from Bergen Dodge, THE SAME BLOODY THING HAPPENED AGAIN. And this time it happened on Route 17 during rush hour, while I was speeding along in the fast lane. 

If any of you are familiar with Bergen County at all, you know how awesome Route 17 is. 

 Now imagine your car dies in the fast lane of a busy highway--your brakes aren't working, and it takes all of your strength to get the steering wheel to move.

Unfortunately, I did not get a chance to go back to Bergen Dodge with an axe and a flamethrower. Mum did it for me, and they did manage to fix the Weird Thing after that, about a month or so before Bergen Dodge went under. 

The rest of Jeep2's life was more or less uneventful, as by then I was used to replacing the brakes, transmission, shocks, and everything else multiple times a year. I had come to accept Jeep2's status as a total piece of shite. My real problem, during those last few months, was really with Ramsey Chrysler. 

The people working their service department are CROOKS. There is no other word for them. Lying, thieving sacks of manure. And the proof that they are truly bad people comes from the fact that they managed to make me lose my temper in public, which is--as anyone who knows me will tell you--more or less impossible. 

The last time Jeep2 went in for it's regular service, I got a call that all 4 shocks needed replacing. Since you kind of need those, I said ok, even though I was charged over $1,000.00 for it. (They tried to charge me over $2,000, but I used some very strong language with the gentleman on the phone and asked to be faxed a full report of everything they were doing to the car and its cost, and the price magically went down.) 

Less than two months after this, I noticed a funny noise coming from within Jeep2, like a thudding sound every time I went over even a small bump in the road. 

Kind of like the sound your shocks make when they need to be replaced. 

Just to be sure, I took Jeep2 to the nearby Sunoco station where we know the owners, and had Don look at it (I never got the car fixed there because Mum helped with the service costs, and insisted we only let Factory Trained Mechanics touch the Jeep or the "warranty" would be voided). While I was at work in Express (which was next door to the Sunoco), Don checked out the Jeep, and when I came back, he informed me that I needed new shocks. 

And I said that can't be right--I just had them replaced.

And Don was like you want my honest opinion? None of those shocks are anywhere near new. They're all shot. You need new ones. 

Now in general I am a very calm and composed sort of person. I do not yell. I do not even raise my voice. I do not get angry, or visibly ruffled, or anything like that. I am the happy, zen-like, calm little center of the universe. But when Don told me that the shocks--for which I had just paid over $1,000--had NOT actually been replaced, something snapped. 

It should take like 15 minutes to get from the Sunoco to Ramsey Chrysler. It took me 7. 

And you better believe I did some serious yelling. 

(There was another woman who had come in before me with a similar issue of paying for something they hadn't fixed. She told me I was her hero before she left. :D )
After that, all future service and maintenance on Jeep2 was done free of charge. Always, and without question. 

I only had Jeep2 for another couple months after that. And I was still left with something like $4,500.00 in credit card debt, which I am still paying off. 

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Oh it's like a disease, son.

Firstly, hey to new followers! I feel so popular. :D Almost like being back in high school, except in this case I promise I will not ditch any of you to go join the goth kids. (Although goth kids are more than welcome here.) I’ve noticed that a number of ye new followers are not from the realm of eating disorder blogs, so I hope you’re not put off by the more disordered posts. I must say you have all been very gracious in your comments on those posts, and I appreciate it. <3

Starving Artist wanted to hear Car Stories, and I am more than happy to oblige. Be warned—this will probably be a lengthy post. Everyone seems to have some good car stories, especially when it comes to one’s first car. I got my permit and my license within one month of each other, a few months after I turned 17. I never got the permit at 16 because I kept failing the written test, and by the time 17 rolled around I had sort of lost interest because I failed the written test again.

Now, at age 27, I drive a red Toyota Yaris (his name is the Virus Pimp), and it is spectacular. 

 A bit of history first: Back in 2001 when I got my license, Mum still had a pretty awesome job and thus could afford to have two cars—one for normal everyday driving, and one just for fun. Mum developed a thing for Jeeps in the 90’s, when she was still driving her superhot Jaguar XJS.
I loved that car, but its Issues really outweighed the hotness.
If you have ever been in or driven a car that was made in England prior to the 1990's, then you understand why she needed a second, more reliable vehicle.

The first Jeep worked. I think it was the 1996 Cherokee Sport. After Mum got rid of the Jaguar for the Mercedes SLK,
(that one was super fun)
 ... she traded the Jeep in for a 2000 Grand Cherokee Limited.

Honestly I’m surprised there aren’t more earthquakes in the eastern regions of this country, because the collected dead of the Cherokee Nation must all be doing somersaults in their graves.

We had Jeep1 when I got my license, and Mum said that since she had the Mercedes, I could have the Jeep. I was like sweeeeet, free car!! 

Don’t ever buy a Jeep unless it was manufactured prior to the year 2000. JUST DON'T DO IT. 

Jeep 1 had a number of alarming psychological problems, mainly centered around the supposedly high tech electrical system. Below the radio, there was a little display that showed a picture of the Jeep, and would tell you with blinking lights and beeps and junk if and when something was wrong with the car (like a low tire, a light out, etc.). According to Jeep1, the driver side brake light went out the second year we had the car and remained out for the duration of Jeep1’s life, despite the fact that—to the human eye—the light was working just fine. Some of the best mechanics in the tri-state area tried to fix this; all were left scratching their heads.

I will admit that the bulk of Jeep1’s issues may in fact have been my fault.

There’s this thing in New Jersey called Devil’s Tower

According to legend, if you drive backwards around it three times/six times (it changes depending on who’s telling the story), then Satan or zombies or cannibalistic witches or whatever will come out and eat you, or something like that. So DUH, I had to try it.

Although I did not see Satan, zombies, or witches, I think Satan may have possessed Jeep1. Because it was never quite the same after that night.

At least once a week, the display would inform me of a new problem. Like HEY YOU DRIVER, there’s a tire out! Wheels fell off! THE CAR IS ON FIRE!!! And I would pull over and panic and check the car and lo and behold, nothing was actually wrong. So I did what any sensible person would do and ignored it.

Then the thing with the passenger side window started. It would randomly go down by itself, but ONLY when I was alone in the car. This was also about the time that Jeep1 began to adamantly insist that the driver side brake light was out and it needed to be fixed IMMEDIATELY.

 Finally, after my first year in college, Mum decided that enough was enough--Jeep1 had to go. Prior to this, Mum did not believe any of my tales of woe regarding Jeep1. She insisted I was just being paranoid. OF COURSE the window isn't rolling down by itself--what nonsense! The car is possessed?! No, you're just cracked. But then one day, Jeep1 one had an epic seizure.

Mum, myself, and a friend were leaving the house--Mum to go shopping in her own car, friend and I probably to go get stoned--and Jeep1 totally lost it. I HAVE WITNESSES FOR THIS. I did not touch the panic button. I did not touch the Jeep. No one touched the Jeep; no one had even gone near it yet, as we were only just leaving the house. But the Jeep went completely spastic--the alarm was going, the wipers were going, the lights were flashing, the windows were going up and down, and I'm fairly certain that Satan was about to come exploding out of the engine at any moment. 

We couldn't get it to stop. Eventually it stopped on its own, but I sure as hell wasn't getting in it after its psychotic episode. Mum sold it pretty soon after that, and we never returned the many phone calls we received from the new owners, who sounded more and more frantic in each voice message they left us.

In what can only be described as an act of total insanity, Mum purchased Jeep2. 
(Mine didn't have the grey bit along the bottom; it was all blue.)
I have a headache already. Shall continue this in another post!


Monday, October 24, 2011

Shake a leg Junior! Thank God your mammy died givin' birth. If she'd have seen you, she'd have died o' shame.

Clytie is a genius. Inspired by her blog post, I made this:

That's a Van's low-cal waffle (70 calories), 2 small spoonfuls of Edy's slow-churned caramel delight ice cream (40ish cals), and just a little sugar free maple syrup (it's 15 cals per 1/4 cup and I think I barely used a tbsp, so I guess it's like 4 calories?). 
A nice size Belgian waffle sundae for a grand total of 114 calories. 

But I shouldn't even be eating that. I've zeppelined right back up to 108 lbs (BMI 20.4) and I feel anxious and cold-sweat-ish whenever I have to go out where people can see me. Such as leaving my bedroom and being seen by Mum or Little Sis on the way to the bathroom. I've been wearing hardly anything but oversized sweaters and sweatpants to cover up the largeness. 

This is my reward for my attempts at Recovery. I haven't BINGE binged in a loooooong time. As in the fill-my-pockets-with-as-much-junk-food-as-I-can-manage-and-hide-in-my-bedroom-stuffing-my-face-in-the-middle-of-the-night kind of bingeing. I haven't done that in WEEKS. For the most part, I've eaten below what a normal person should eat. And somehow I have managed to gain roughly 8 lbs since the beginning of the summer. 

No matter what I do--eat normal, restrict, fast, starve, workout--I'm still gaining weight. Every week I go to weigh myself and no matter whether it's been a bad week or a good week food and exercise-wise, I'm still gaining weight. 
I AM GOING TO HAVE A MOTHERTRUCKING NERVOUS BREAKDOWN. Seriously. This makes me want to do very bad things for which I do not have money. 


My printer at work is accosting me. 
Y'all are familiar with my issues with electronics and conspiracy-theory-paranoia by now. Sometimes I wonder if maybe I'm unknowingly part of some secret government experiment. (I've been watching a lot of the X Files, if you can't tell--I got seasons 6 and 7 on DVD for like $15 each. :D)

Either yes, the government is experimenting on me; I generate lots of radiation naturally; or my office is haunted. 

Specifically, my printer is haunted, and it's only haunted when I'm alone in the office. 
Look at it there, being Evil while my back is turned.

I'll just be sitting there, going about my daily business, the printer only doing things and making noise when I print stuff. 

And then, usually in the middle of a brief lull in the office work, the printer will yell at me. 

It kind of reminds me of my old car (the 2000 Jeep Grand Spastic Limited)--I'd be driving along, all alone in the car, and the passenger window would just go down all by itself. (And that was just the beginning of that car's Madness...)

The bathroom in my old house did something similar as well. Mum and I got to talking about that this weekend, actually. We moved out of that house in 2001, and I still miss it. 

The downstairs bathroom had a vent in the ceiling that would scream at you when you turned the light on. It was customary for those of us who were familiar with this to send ignorant visitors into that bathroom and wait outside to hear their horrified reactions. The vent did not automatically scream at you when the light went on--sometimes it would start shrieking immediately, sometimes it wouldn't scream at all. The best ever was when the vent would wait before it started screaming, giving the person in the bathroom time to sit down on the loo and relax before being frightened out of their wits. 

I've been trawling around youtube for like an hour trying to find something that sounds similar to the screaming bathroom vent, but there's nothing. It kind of a little bit sounds like the noise you hear in this vid, when you let the mouse hover over the "play" button.
Only in the bathroom it was more drawn out. 

Watch that video. If you don't find the letter in place of "H" to be funny, I question your sense of humour. 


Friday, October 21, 2011

Torch the dresser, Meatwad.

Hasidic Plumber, I know you were very upset that you were not included in that picture, so here's a nice picture for you:

I actually ate like a normal(ish) person this week! Still staying under 1200 calories, but it's a small improvement over the previous few weeks. It helps to get excited about my meals. The bento boxes help.

 I have a new exercise plan as well, that I am going to try very hard to stick to. If I want to retain the use of my legs, I think this is necessary, as I now need the knee braces every time I work out. New plan:
- cardio 4 or 5 days a week (1 hr on elliptical, sometimes up to 30 mins on bike)
- toning/weights/possibly pilates-type stuff 2 or 3 days a week (30 mins; focusing on arms, thighs, and tumtum)
- one day of rest

And some rules:
- Hiking counts as cardio (so no hiking on the Day of Rest; I must actually not work out)
- jogging and power-walking outside also count as cardio
- No intense starvation on toning days
- No toning AND cardio unless both are cut down by at least half (i.e, 30 mins on elliptical and 15 mins toning)
- If I feel that a complete nervous collapse is imminent, toning may be done on the day of rest

I know how I operate, so every last ounce of my willpower shall now be devoted to NOT doing both the hour of cardio and 30 mins of toning 7 days a week.

I decorated the office for Halloween this week. Nothing hardcore, just a couple small things:
That's the table right when you come in.
I have a cute little snowglobe on my desk, too:

 I had one other thing for my desk, but when Bossman came in and saw it he took it away. (::gasp:: "OOooooo!!!" ::grab & run::)
Now it's on his desk.
Apparently Boss is a big Hellraiser fan. 
Despite my initial dislike of Bossman when I first started this job, we get along pretty well now. I guess it just took him a while to warm up to me? The secretary he had before me was  really awful at her job and only worked here for a couple months, and the one before her was apparently super awesome and worked here for like 4 years; so I guess it's not too surprising that Bossman was wary of the next new secretary.

Since we settled into the new office at the end of the summer, Boss has toyed with the idea of hiring an associate (or "lackey", as Boss says), like someone fresh out of law school to handle to smaller stuff like the traffic violations and whatnot. I'm not too keen on this idea, as Boss said I would more or less be in charge of the lackey when he's not here.

I don't like being in a position of bossing other people around. I hated that when I worked for Supreme Evil Bossette--I was the one in charge of all the interns and I didn't like it at all. And when I worked for this contractor a few years ago, I was declared "office manager" and given authority over the receptionist and the bookkeeper.

No sir, I don't like it. Because being someone's boss means you have extra responsibilities. Not cool. I had no problem lording my authority over small children when I was a nanny, but it's different with other adults. Plus I don't want to be hated on the same level that I have hated previous bosses.

I think everyone's had an awful boss at some point. That's just the way life is. I was thinking about that yesterday on the way home from work. I went a different way home because I had to stop at the hardware store to get a part for the upstairs loo (I fixed the toilet in under 5 minutes without any kind of experience or instructions--go me!). I passed by one of my old workplaces and saw that it's no longer there. (I had thought she had either moved or shut down a while ago, but I hadn't gotten a proper look until yesterday).

Felicia Fartblower, as we called her behind her back, ran a little shop where children could have their birthday parties and make little art & craft projects.
Felicia -__-
I think she did after school art classes, too. And when I worked there the summer after freshman year of college, she had a summer art camp. One of my friends found her and got us jobs there, and thus began a giant suckfest.

Felicia was a b*tch. A big one (literally and figuratively). But it was an art-related job, and since I was an art student, I thought it would be better than nannying all summer. Felicia hired us and said that she would train us the first week and would not pay for training, but after that she would pay us $10/hour off the books. So we said ok. I worked long and hard for Felicia Fartblower--sometimes working 10+ hour days. But my job rarely entailed anything art-related. Instead:

 By the end of the month or so that I worked there, I'm pretty sure Felicia Fartblower's 5-month old son was under the impression that I was his mother. It started out as just "oh do you think you could watch him for a sec while I run back to the store and move some art supplies?" At the end, I was running errands for Felicia while also carting that kid around and taking care of him for up to 12 hours some days (and the kid was adorable and very well-behaved considering his mommy was a psycho and he was spending several hours a day in the car). Felicia never even stopped to check if I knew how to take care of a baby.

My friends were working in the actual shop and doing art-things, I think. Oh and throughout all of this, none of us were getting paid. The "week of training" stretched out into like a month, and none of us were paid a dime.

Eventually, all three of us quit. I don't know if my friends ever tried to get money out of Felicia Fartblower, but I was not leaving without a paycheck for the month's worth of babysitting I had done. I harassed Felicia for a while, calling her daily and leaving messages, and she ignored me before eventually telling me that no, she was not going to pay me.

Oh really? You raging b*tch. I don't think so.

So I contacted the IRS.

Not only did Felicia Fartblower get in major doodoo for the off-the-books workers and the non-payment to said workers, she was also audited. Thoroughly.

And at the end of the summer, I got a check from her for a grand total of $65.00. I swear I could actually feel the hatred coming off of the check in waves.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

I wouldn't eat anything that color unless it came out of a cereal box.

 Remember that delicious guy I saw a few times at the gym? I got a better look at him a while back and he wasn't as hot as he looked from farther away. But then today I saw him close up, and he had his hair down.

Only an older Brian May.

More like that.

But since he's not Brian May, I wasn't too sure how I felt about the look.

Brian May is a f**king GOD. Or he's at least in the in the top 10 on the list of Greatest Humans of All Time. 
don't question it

If you don't know who Brian May is, SHAME on you!!

Aside from being half of the genius that was Queen, he's invented all sorts of music-type equipment, is an animal activist, and he has a frigging PhD in astrophysics.

Speaking of boys.... Friend brought up the crush last weekend. (He's her cousin.)  Apparently he was intimidated by my dizzying intellect.

Where are the nice decent men? I don't think I ask for all that much in a man. I don't need someone who looks like a rock star, I don't want an intellectual, I don't care about how much money he makes or what kind of car he drives or how much porn he looks at. I just want a gentleman, and a man who could build me a house with his bare hands, and who likes to sit in his recliner with a six pack and watch sports on Sundays, and who enjoys being loud with his buddies and having a cigar while barbecuing.

It's really not all that much to ask, for feck's sake.

It really ticks me off that these things seem to only have a lifespan of one year. I use it in my car, to connect the ipod to the radio. I've gone through 3 of them because after a year or so, they just stop working.

Like seriously, it's BS. Such a simple little thing--why the heck can't it work for more than 12 months?!? It's not like it's some crazy complicated high-tech thing. It's an effing audio adapter. These things have been around in some form or another for like a hundred years. AND I NEED MY IPOD TO WORK IN MY CAR.

Ipods are a really brilliant little invention, don't y'all think? And I'm not really crazy about technology and gadget-type things, but being able to carry 14 days' worth of music around in a thing that's the same size as my cell phone is pretty rad. I remember the days of airplane travel in which I had to drag a 5-pound case of cassettes, and then the even heavier CD case in my carry-on bag. I couldn't settle on just a few CD's, because I'm like ADDDJ with music--I can switch from Beethoven to Abba to Slayer to Lady Gaga to Rob Zombie to Cab Calloway to Tarja to Queen to Leadbelly to Marilyn Manson to Brahms and back again like 25 times on a 2-hour car ride.
(I nearly soiled myself the first time I saw that.)

The DVR is pretty rad, too. I'm only just getting the hang of it, but it's pretty exciting to be able to have 100+ hours of Law & Order SVU available in that little box whenever I want to watch it.

But I have to say that my favourite modern invention--the one that makes me shudder when I think of what it was like to live without it--is the dishwasher.

I mean it's not a huge deal having to wash your own dishes. I had no dishwasher for the 3 and a half years I lived in Philadelphia. And we had no dishwasher in Ireland (the "dishwasher" was generally the youngest person staying in the house). My roommates in Phila. totally SUCKED at washing dishes. Most of the time they just wouldn't bother, which brought out my Dragon Rage. And then when they did do it, they complained about how much it sucked, which was understandable because they were all doing it wrong--sitting there with the water running and washing each individual thing one at a time with the sponge.


Get your gloves on, toss all the dirty stuff into the sink, dribble some dish soap on it, and fill the sink with scalding hot water. Then all you have to do is just push the dishes round the sink a bit and then take them out and put them in the drying rack. When I showed my roommates that, you would have thought from their reactions that I had just showed them how to turn water into a 40.

Of course you could just skip all of that and get a dishwasher.

Now I know I'm a bit psychotic about my dishwasher, but when you love something that much I think you should take care of it, and take pride in making it do its job Properly. The dishwasher is a glorious thing--it should be treated with reverence. But apparently some people are so simple they can't even operate the dishwasher without catastrophe.

By that I mean Little Sis.

She's the youngest in the family, and there's a pretty big gap between us (I'm the next oldest). Mum was kind of older when she had Lil Sis, and I think at that point she had just totally had it with parenting. Whereas Big Sisters #1 and #2 and I grew up with Super-Strict-Dictator-Mum, Little Sis got Whatever-Just-Do-What-You-Want-Mum.

I'm not complaining--Mum's rules coupled with her total lack of emotional guidance made me self-sufficient at an extremely young age. I knew how to take care of personal hygiene, clean house, do my laundry, con people into giving me rides, and feed myself all without assistance well before I hit age 10.

Little Sis, who just turned 17 last week, can do none of those things. She can't even work the dishwasher.

I'm pretty sure most people--even those without dishwashers--can tell the difference between dish soap and dishwasher soap.

It's not like it would be cataclysmic if you were washing dishes manually and ended up using the Cascade instead of the Fairy Liquid. HOWEVER, it IS cataclysmic when you put the Fairy Liquid into the dishwasher.

Dish soap has magic powers.

EVIL magic powers. After Lil Sis put the dishwasher on, we all came downstairs the next morning to discover that the entire kitchen was covered in bubbles and foam. It was like something out of a campy kids movie, complete with the cats up on the counter looking at the soap with horror, and then glaring at us as though we were the most moronic creatures ever to walk the earth since Sarah Palin. (It was breakfast-time and they could not access their food bowls, which means the Humans Have Failed Epically.)

Except it wasn't really that funny in real life.

Saturday, October 15, 2011

OMG 2 posts in 2 days!!

And no, I'm not on drugs. (Nothing other than what I'm usually on, anyway...) But I had to post again because I found something on the old computer that made me squeal. 

Last December I mentioned that I was working on a super fun MS Paint pic, but then I never got around to finishing it. It turned out to be too large and daunting a project, so I gave up. I was attempting to make a pic of all of us, but as the Us kept growing, I could not keep up. But I thought I might share it with y'all anyway, because quite a few of you gals are in it:
...I think it's Sofia, Mona, Lost In Space, Peri, Tracy, Holly, Amber, Kazehana, Lilah Lee, Jeanne, Alice, Dani, Olivia/Ryan is Baking, and Nessa...

...see if you can spot yourself! Mona and Alice and the boys have disappeared, but I think the rest of you are still here.... And if you're not here, it doesn't mean I don't love you!! It means I didn't know what colour your hair is.