Veronicaisms

A couple weeks ago my mom came up and brought my oldest nephew and niece for a visit. We spent the afternoon at the park, and then when it started to look like rain, we came back to the apartment to watch a movie.

Since they are both under twelve, they ride in the back seat to avoid airbags. When they got here my nephew was on the right side (passenger) and my niece was on the left (driver).

On the way to the park they had the same seating configuration, and again on the way back to the apartment.

When it was time for them to go, I walked them out to the car. Both kids jumped in, him still on the right and her still on the left.

And this is what happened next:

Jerem: Ha! Ha! I'm still on the right!


Veronica: Oh no! I forgot. You were supposed to switch with me on the way home! Not Fair!


Me: (Confused, because when I was young my older brother and I fought over the front seat. Either side of the back was just as crappy as the other, compared to the front.) Why are y'all fighting? What does it matter? Why do you both want to sit on the right side?


Veronica: (In her best impression of me, twenty years ago) DUH! Because it's better!

Well then. I stand corrected.

I didn't point out to them that in six to eight years they are going to prefer the left side, in the front.

Late last night...

Andy was on the floor petting Milton and Milton was giving Andy kisses.

Andy: Bunnies are really warm.


Me: Yeah. All the time. They're like tiny little incubators.


Andy: Even Milton's kisses are warm. I wonder what a bunny's normal internal temperature is.


Me: I don't know, but it must be pretty high.


Andy: Ninety eight point cute.

Project 365, week 34

Week in pictures August 21-27

Ahh, sweatshirt weather. Glorious

Steppin' out in my fancy shoes

Late night toilet repair man

Somebunny destroyed my wall charger

The Carrot-faced Killer strikes again

Grill masters

I double dog dare you to make me come out from under this bed...

I'm busy...

Be back soon!

Project 365, week 33

Week in pictures August 14-20

A gigantic measuring tape. Because we have so many things to measure.

This is what it looks like when Milton sheds

Family visit

Gloomy day = gloomy disposition

Bow to the king of the castle

So lazy he eats laying down

A lovely contrast to the rest of the week

Project 365, week 32

Week in pictures August 7-13

Unexpected fireworks

Living room, dining room, bicycle repair shop. Our apartment it muti-purpose

He lives such a hard life

This is all that was left of potluck night

Meanwhile, back at the ranch

Clogged dishwasher = distressed hand washer

So much for short hair being easier...

Any minute my head is going to explode: UPDATE

Two or three weeks ago I woke up, piddled around the house in my pajamas and then tried to take a shower. Except no matter how long I let the water run it never got hot. It didn't even get warm. No hot water. Fantastic.

After several phone calls to various and sundry people we found out that the hot water heater in our building (it's gas and the whole building shares one) had been leaking and there were men here trying to repair it, but the hot water should be back in about an hour.

Four hours later there still wasn't any hot water, but we got another phone call telling us that they were going to have to replace the hot water heater and that wouldn't be accomplished until the next day.

That day I took a bath with hot water in a pot because I don't have a plug for my bathtub.

Anyway, they got a "new" hot water heater and things have been alright. I put "new" in quotations because our landlords are cheap frugal, and they didn't actually buy a new hot water heater. Oh no, they found one that had been discarded by someone else. Now, don't get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with buying a used appliance, as long as said appliance comes from some place that has repaired any possible problems before selling it. The "new" hot water heater did not.

So this past Saturday the water went out again. We tried calling several times, but there was never an answer, so I took another hot-water-in-a-pot bath and waited until we could try to call again. Except that a few hours later the hot water miraculously came back on. Problem (mysteriously) solved, no need for a call to the landlords.

Yesterday I did manage to get a shower, but I noticed that the hot water didn't really want to stay hot and by the end of it I had the knob turned all the way over to the "scalding hot" side, and the water was just comfortable. By one thirty yesterday the hot water was completely gone.

We thought maybe this new hot water heater just ran out more often than the old one (which never ran out, ever. Not once in over two years.) and took a while to reheat the water. So we didn't call, trying to give it time to heat back up again.

Except the water didn't fix itself this time. We still didn't have hot water when we went to bed last night.

We don't have hot water now. Almost 24 hours later. Andy called this morning and they said that the pilot light is out and they have to find someone to relight it. They also told him that is what happened on Saturday.

It's beginning to sound like a faulty pilot light is why the water heater was discarded in the first place. And how many times are they going to pay someone to come out and relight it before they just go buy a new hot water heater?

If this were any other day I could handle the inconvenience. I would be upset and angry, but I could deal with it with a reasonable amount of aplomb.

However, in about three and a half hours Andy and I have a very important meeting. A meeting concerning the accident in which we begin trying to wrap the whole thing up with the insurance company.

I am nervous. Actually, nervous doesn't really cover exactly how I feel right now. I'm looking right into the face of a grueling afternoon spent rehashing all my injuries, physical and emotional, how I'm doing now (not great) and what all that is worth to me.

I'm a freaking basket case right now. I want to cry. And I want to throw up. And I want to crawl back in bed until this day is over.

And I'm dirty because I don't have any hot water. Insert expletives here...

Luckily (really? Is there a "luckily" in this situation), the meeting is in our hometown, where our parents live. So we're driving down early to take showers. Because everyone feels a little better when they're nice and clean.

I have to go pack up my stuff. Say a little prayer for me this afternoon. It would be much appreciated.

UPDATE at 6:30 pm.

We're home and I'm alive.

Thankfully someone came to relight the pilot light and we had hot water here in time to take showers and get ready. So we didn't have to pack and haul all our clothes and bathroom crap all over today. One less thing to worry about.

The meeting is over. I only melted down once and not for too long. I'm glad it's over though. I'm going to pour a glass of wine and curl up with a book.

Project 365, week 31 and a long note about my week

This week I went down to Raleigh to spend some time with Julie. We drank girly wine and watched girly movies and ate things our husbands either wouldn't like or wouldn't approve of. We talked about going for a run several times, but talking about it was as far as we ever got because we stayed up too late at night and ate too much pie. We so seldom get to have any real girl time anymore thought, so I'm not going to feel guilty for not running this week and indulging in too many calories. Also, I had a doctor's appointment schedule for the end of the week and being with Julie gave me a distraction from the stress that surely would have built up if I'd been at home.

Yesterday I came home. I left at exactly the wrong time and found myself in rush hour traffic in the middle of a torrential downpour. Also, The Hulk doesn't like to idle and the engine died three times in the middle of traffic on the interstate which sent me into a mild panic attack because I was pretty certain that if we didn't start to move in earnest soon, The Hulk was going to go into full on revolt mode and refuse to turn on again at all. But I managed to make it work. The Hulk and I have an understanding, so we made it home alright.

I walked in the door and found the apartment exactly as I had expected - all a muss. Andy hadn't made the bed all week. There were shoes everywhere. His clean clothes were still sitting exactly where I left them waiting for him to put them away. The pile was a little smaller though, as he had been wearing clean clothes all week, and discarding them on the bedroom floor each night. Also the kitchen was a disaster. Andy and Roommate make jalapeno poppers and shrimp last night on the grill and the evidence of their effort was spread all over the counters. It was just easier for me to clean it up than to throw a fit and honestly I was tired and cleaning the mess took less energy than yelling at someone else to do it.

And then when I started to gather up the dishes I noticed how disgusting the counters were and I asked if they had wiped them down before they started to prepare the food. I already knew the answer because there were two dead flies and rabbit hair all over the place. So no, they didn't, but they prepared the food on cutting boards and plates. Um, still gross.

My appointment was this morning with Dr.F. We were pretty sure he was going to release me, but I was still nervous. It's just a reaction I have now when I go to any doctor. I had made an early appointment so I could get it over with and not spend the day dwelling on it, so I set my alarm last night and got up when it went off at 8. I had to pee so I went in the bathroom and then left for a minute to go into the kitchen for something. Then, as I was walking back to the bathroom I hear the door shut and thought it was Andy. When I walked in the hall I realized it was not, in fact, Andy, but Roommate, who had gotten up a full hour earlier than usually.

The man NEVER gets up before 9, but the one morning that I need the freaking bathroom he decided he needs to be an early riser. I was furious and if I hadn't been afraid he was naked I would have barged in and told him to get the hell out of my bathroom, and while he was at it go ahead an move out already, for mercy's sake!!!!!! Instead I went back into the kitchen and started slamming cabinet doors while I made some breakfast. It was not a good start to the day and I was pretty certain that was a sign that my appointment was going to be bad.

Thankfully, after nearly four years of marriage, Andy has learned that when I'm that mad it's best to just pretend like I'm an explosive device and steer clear. He left me alone to stew on the sofa and after one abortive attempt to get Roommate out of the bathroom he sat down as far away from me as he could to wait out the storm. Twenty minutes later Roommate vacated and I got in the shower. Lucky for him traffic wasn't bad this morning and we made it to the office with five minutes to spare.

We saw Dr.F. He's a very chipper, positive type of guy. He's also a complete and total goofball. Today he was wearing a tie with the cartoon patient from Operation on it. I've never, ever seen him wear a normal tie. I wonder what he's like when he isn't at work.

The appointment was really short. He talked a lot about how great I looked and how everything could have turned out so much worse. He looked in my ears and down my throat and in my nose, of course. He said it "was a perfect nose" meaning that it was all healed up and clear. Then he released me.

Andy and I left the office. I wanted to cry, but I held it together because Andy doesn't deal very well with me crying. But I was just feeling so relieved because Dr.F said everything we had been waiting a year to hear, and I could finally turn a page in this never ending story. I was also feeling scared and stressed because there are a lot of chapters left before we can close the book and put it on the shelf. I've said it so many times and I'm sure I'll say it many more, but I just want my life back. And now it's right in front of me and it's almost tangible, making me want it that much more, but there are some really big hurdles still left to jump before I can get there. All this was on my mind on the way home and it didn't occur to me until we got back to the apartment that I missed a perfect opportunity for the photo of the day. I should have had Andy take my picture with Dr.F or snap a picture of me leaving the office for the last time. The Last Time.

But I didn't take either of those because I was a mess and completely too wrapped up in my feelings to think about anything so obvious. So I guess you'll have to be satisfied with a picture of "a perfect nose."

Week in pictures July 31 - August 6

The beginning of the end. Two gray hairs

Head in the clouds. Literally

Deliciously home grown

Now this is what girl's night should look like

It's been a long, long time since I took a bubble bath

Ahhh, refreshing

Crappy drive home

"Now that's a perfect nose!" - Dr.F

Veronicaisms: The Alex Edition

I started Veronicaisms a long time ago in honor of my niece, Veronica, who can come out with some of the most random things sometimes.

But this is dedicated to her little brother, Alex, who stayed with us on Friday night.

We took him out for dinner and got home a little late, so he was starting to run a little wild and we were trying to get him into bed post haste.

While Andy and I blew up the air mattress and got the bed ready, Roommate was kind enough to entertain Alex for us. He red him a story and talked to him about who knows what because Alex doesn't always enunciate his words and it's hard to have any idea what he's talking about.

Anyway, we got him to bed and he went right to sleep with no problem.

On Saturday morning Alex and I got up and Roommate was getting ready to leave for work. When he opened the door to go I told Alex to say goodbye and he did. Then when Roommate was out the door Alex said, "What a great guy!"

I agreed and then laughed and when he asked me why I was laughing I said because he was so cute and he made me laugh. And then Alex said, "Oh. Ok. Can you cut my poptarts into triangles?"

Silver, gray, white - they're all the same

This past weekend Andy and I went on a date. Kind of.

It was a kind of date because we never would have gone if we weren't supposed to meet someone there, but we got there and had already placed our food order when the people we were supposed to meet let us know they weren't coming. And I was pissed because I could think of so many other places I would have rather been, so Andy took my hand and said, "Let's think of it as a date."

So, yeah, a kind of date to a restaurant that was only kind of mediocre, but their prices and their attitude would give you the impression that they must be something special.

Except they didn't even have cloth napkins y'all. And I'm not some stuck up so-and-so that always has to have a cloth napkin, but if you're going to charge $8 for a Caesar salad and then charge another $7 to add chicken or shrimp to the salad I expect to be able to be able to pick my chin up off the floor and wipe it with a cloth napkin.

I don't know, maybe Andy and I don't eat out at nice restaurants that often and $7 for some chicken isn't so bad. But really, it's additional chicken. As in, it isn't the main part of the meal, but an "in addition to" item for a meal that's already whole - or so it would seem, but I hardly think a Caesar salad without croutons is a whole salad - so what makes this additional chicken so special? Does it come with a person to cut it up and feed it to you? I didn't find out because my experience with the place to that point told me that it was probably completely mediocre chicken that wasn't worth two extra dollars, much less seven. So I settled for a completely mediocre cup of soup and a "salad" that consisted of a lot of lettuce, some dressing and a little bit of cheese.

Suffice it to say that we won't be going back there any time soon. Or ever.

But the restaurant isn't why I'm writing this. I'm writing this to tell you what I found while I was getting ready to go on our kind of date.

I decided that since the place was kind of nice I shouldn't look like a total slob, so I took a little time to fix my hair.

And while I was fixing my hair and looking in the mirror I thought for a second that I saw a flash of hair that was not my normal color. In fact, this phantom hair looked gray. Not even gray, it looked down right silver which is right next to white.

A little further investigation turned up two very silver hairs on the top of my head.

Now y'all, I don't color my hair because I like my hair color and also, because I'm cheap. And I have said that when I start to go gray I plan to just live with it because I know of lot's of beautiful women with gray hair.

But I'm only 28. And in my most humble opinion, that is too damn young to go completely gray.

I know what you're saying. It's only two hairs. Well, actually it's at least three because Andy found another one that I couldn't see. Thanks honey...

The thing is it only takes one and then the rest start to go. The big question here is if these two three are going to hang out by themselves for the next ten years or so, or are they going to invite some com padres to join them. If this is going to turn into an issue my salon bill is about to go way, way up.

Also, I texted Julie after I found them and I found no sympathy from her. She said she would take my two three gray hairs and raise me her ninety or so. Well my friend, I have a bone to pick with you.

So, if I recollect you didn't start getting gray hairs in earnest until after you had a baby. Oh sure, you had the occasional gray from time to time because you have really dark hair and people with really dark hair have random gray hairs all the time. But you hadn't complained of really going gray until you had Mina and your hair changed post pregnancy.

Well I don't have children yet. So what is my hair going to look like after I do?! Also, would it kill you to start throwing a little sympathy my way? I mean, I don't want to keep throwing this in your face, but nine months, sister. NINE MONTHS! (no, Julie isn't pregnant again. This is a reference to her, ahem, slightly less than sweet disposition the whole time she was pregnant before)

Anyway, I'm slightly disturbed by these hairs. And no, I didn't pull them out. Do you think I'm crazy?! I don't want six more!

In the end, I've decided to blame on the stress of the last fifteen months and the mounting stress of finally putting this whole accident/insurance business to rest.

I can finally see a light at the end of the tunnel, but apparently my hair is taking the light literally.

Piss & Vinegar

When we first decided to get a bunny and I found Brunswick, I also bought a book about rabbits and how best to care for them.

I learned a lot of things from that little book, some of them useful, some of them not so much.

One of the things the book said was to not get impatient with a baby bunny because for the first year they are much more active and tend to make much bigger messes which can cause owners to give up too easily and give their bunny away before the first year is up.

So we brought Brunswick home fully prepared to chase around a little terror for a year until his adult genes kicked in and he settled down a bit.

That isn't what happened. Not at all.

Brunswick was lazy. From the get go. He likes to sleep and while he did run around and jump up on the furniture sometimes he would need a nap immediately afterward. He slept so much and so deeply in fact that sometimes you couldn't wake him without picking him up or giving him a little shake. There were many times I thought my little bunny was dead or dying because I couldn't get him to wake up. It took a long time to understand that it was just him. He was a calm, sleepy little guy.

That is part of the reason we got a second bunny. We wanted Brunswick to have a friend and he was so easy and hardly ever caused any trouble, so how bad could a second bunny be?

Ha! Hahahahahahahaha!

Milton has always been as active as the book said - and then some.

We don't call him the Little Grey Cuss for nothing. He got that name pretty much immediately and he's managed to hold on to it for two years now.

He did calm down, like the book said, after his first year. And after he did he took a little time to decide that he actually liked Andy and I. He's even started to give us kisses - something Brunswick did in the first month and I never thought Milton would deign to do. But he has and we love him for it.  It's even become a game to see who can get the most kisses out of him before he decides he's tired of us and runs away.

Even at two he still has more spunk, sass and energy than his brother, and in the middle of the day, while Brunswick is taking a nap, Milton usually finds some sort of mischief to get into.

So last week when I heard the sounds of paper being torn and scratched at I wasn't surprised, but I set out in search of Milton to make sure he wasn't destroying something useful.

I couldn't find him after a quick search of his usual hiding places and after I stood in the hallway for a second I deduced that the sounds were coming from our bedroom. I had already looked there, but maybe I'd just missed him, so I went back. And then I saw his tail sticking out from under the bedside table.

He had squeezed himself under there and proceeded to shred all the miscellaneous what not that had found it's way out of my or the vacuum's reach.

He was really going to town and there weren't any important documents, so instead of forcing him out I took a video instead - because he's my little trouble maker, but he so cute while he's making trouble.

And while Milton was doing that, this is what Brunswick was doing:

Whatever did I do for entertainment before I had bunnies?