You are the weakest link.

Goodbye!

… or, “How I have trouble hanging up the phone.”

How do you hang up the phone?  (Not with family or close friends, but in a professional-yet-friendly setting.) “Thank you, bye!” is my usual, but sometimes I’ve done something for THEM, and a thank-you is a little weird.

The other people in the office say “buh-bye”, and it seems to work for them, but me?  I say “buh-bye” and I hear “bubbeh.” Or maybe “Popeye.” And sometimes “bye-bye!!!” like it would be squealed by a three-year-old with blond pigtails.

And, every once in a while, I hear “awww, whosa cute kitty? cutie want some num-nums?” but perhaps that’s just me.

Damn that wanker Anne Robinson for ruining “Goodbye!”  It used to work perfectly well and now it just makes me sound like I’m calling the clients stupid.  Grrrrr.

Seriously. What is your closer for phone calls that you need to end on friendly-but-professional terms?

Quick post of randomness!

I had to take a break from cleaning the bathrooms to stick the pork half-loin in the oven to roast (do you guys have a habit of unscrewing the faucets to clean the flow screens with bleach? I didn’t used to and then the first time I did in this house it was absolutely disgusting so now I do it at least once a month) and my hands stink of bleach and I’m afraid it rubbed off on the pork but I scrubbed my hands across the stainless steel of the sink and it helped and oh the medications are helping Rajah in that he’s not licking as compulsively and litter-visiting with less frequency — thank goodness! — and thank you all for the good wishes and here, have the song that’s stuck in my head, while I go scrub a toilet and a shower!

Five Things I’ve Learned by Being a Home Owner

Good morning everyone!!  I’m alive, I’m well, Rajah has settled in nicely, and the weather is beautiful in sunshiney Florida   I’m surrounded by full boxes and packing debris.  I’m wearing the same pair of shorts over and over again (I *have* unpacked the laundry detergent). I spent a half hour searching for a metal pan so I could bring brownies to the party next door (it was in a box labeled GLASS; thanks, packers, that was helpful). Unpacking our lives in a one-level house is quite different than our settled Kitty Den on the second floor!

Top five things I’ve discovered so far:

5. There ARE such things as Stepford Wives! Holy Cow!! The nice woman next door had a purse party and a whole handful of women there fit the profile.  You know what I mean?  Very skinny, bleached blond, perfectly made up, perfectly groomed women talking of how much they spoil their children and how their husbands constantly irritate them by playing X-Box, not putting away their dishes or being generally untidy.  Is this what I’m supposed to be in five years???  The hair’s gonna look awfully weird on me, if so.

4. Neighbors are MUCH different in an actual neighborhood than an apartment building.  We lived in the Kitty Den for two years; at no point did we know any of our neighbors by name or take a step through their doorways.  We’ve been here exactly a week and I’ve already met the neighbors on both sides (both of whom offered to answer questions or loan cups of sugar, etc.) as well as the next two houses to the right and one more house to the left.  I already attended a party thrown by one neighbor and Mike met the baby and puppy of another neighbor down the street.  It’s very friendly, but it’s also strange and kind of intimidating.  Perhaps I’ll manage to keep the Raj Mahal tidier than we kept the Kitty Den, if I think that folks might wander through on a random basis.

3. It’s mind-blowing (to this newbie) how much work it takes to set up a house.  I mean, unpacking and stuff, that’s expected.  And turning on electricity and water.  But you add on the home owner’s association, the person connecting the phone line and internet, the person installing Direct TV, the handyman examining the attic access and roof shingles, the Direct TV guy coming BACK to install something else he should have done the first trip, calling the security company to have them reset the system to your new phone line, being home when the new grill is delivered (YAY!!!), the pest company coming to transfer the termite bond, learning how to work the irrigation system . . . yeah.  I hadn’t used my iPhone calendar one TENTH as much as I did this month.

2. Tiles are a big change from carpet.  (Especially carpet in an apartment that was down the entire hallway from the elevator; all rain and mud was generally tracked off by the point of entry.)  We scrubbed the whole place before the furniture arrived from MA, but with all the comings and goings (and construction projects and unpacking) it’s getting a little gritty underfoot.  I have both a broom and a mop, but I’m having to negotiate around boxes and barricades of junk and it’s difficult.  ENTIRELY worth it, however, from watching Rajah skid out; he tried to turn a corner too quickly and slammed DIRECTLY into a cardbox box at full speed.  We laughed so hard I nearly peed myself.

And the number one thing I’ve discovered since becoming a home owner:

1. Crab grass is the Devil’s pubic hair.

Happy Monday, guys!!

The Celtics make me a sad panda.

That’s all?  That’s it?

After staying up past eleven?

After drinking my appropriately green Bud Light with Lime?

After obsessing over KG’s knees and whether Rasheed Wallace would show up and all the rest?

This is the way our Finals ends, not with a bang but a whimper.

That is all.

Malaise – I haz it.

Thousands of feet of “superior” boom are available in Maine, but not being used in the Gulf.

A moratorium on drilling was ordered on the recommendation of scientists, who actually recommended no such thing.

A Congressman assault citizens on the street.  Not only are no charges pressed, not only does he not resign, but blame-makers swoop in to attack . . . the citizens.

Europe’s busting up, the euro’s possibly breaking up, the area’s drowning in debt — hey, let’s add more government debt and a magic windmill program for ourselves!

Israel is not allowed to actively defend itself (i.e., attack the forces attacking it), nor to passively defend itself (enforce a blockade and guard its borders with a wall and checkpoints) without being accused of apartheid, genocidal tendencies, blood-drinking of innocent children, etc.  Everyone’s okay with this except us, and the US is slipping towards “meh” neutrality.

Elton John sings for Rush Limbaugh’s wedding.  This is a good occasion to mention how racist, homophobic, sexist, evil etc. Rush Limbaugh is.

Elton John is barred from singing in Egypt because of his beliefs and his behaviors.  “Meh.”

Social Security’s imploding.  ObamaCare’s a disaster in the making.  “Meh.”

It’s enough to make a girl want to climb back into bed with a cup of coffee and her copy of Atlas Shrugged.

(Now on Kindle!  Although, whoa, I paid a LOT less than that when I ordered it — it was $8.99 back then.)

Random thoughts

My head is an absolute muddle of thoughts this morning.  And none of them are clear, articulate or pithy enough to warrant its own post.  In no particular order, then:

• I really wish I knew how to sew.  I’ve used a sewing machine for one project in my life and that was sixteen years ago.  It’s not too late to learn now, is it?
• But sewing machines don’t sew leather, I don’t think.  How does one sew a custom holster?  Doubletrouble, does your wife do it by hand?
• I can sew buttons and that’s about it.  However, I have a project that I hope to reveal to you later this week, when my desired package arrives in the mail . . . more on that in a few days . . .
• I’m shocked, shocked, that anyone was shocked about Helen Thomas’ views.  I was only surprised that a) she was that completely blatant about them — D.C. is a town of obfuscation, as we all know; and b) that she retired because of them.  It’s nice to know that open calls for ethnic cleansing are still frowned upon in high society.  One needs to be subtle about those things.
• Man, it’s such a raw deal that Israel gets.  North Korea can kill 46 South Koreans – a classic casus belli if I ever saw one – and China can kill a few hunded Uighers, but Israel and Teh Joooooos are Teh Ebil! *spit* Never mind the Russians’ actions about the Chechens, or the divided city of Nicosia, or the Turks’ suppression of the Kurds, or the crimes against humanity going on in Congo — it’s time to Blame the Jew again!
• Has anyone tried substituting mascarpone for cream cheese?  (Yes, I know that’s an abrupt shift, but there just wasn’t a good transition available.)  I made these over the weekend (and froze most of them for company this Sunday); I thought they were delicious, but Mike really hates cream cheese and couldn’t abide the frosting.  Think mascarpone would work as well?
• While I was getting my hair cut on Saturday I saw a guy get an honest-to-goodness Mohawk.  I wanted to pinch his cheek and tell him to get some pegged jeans.  God, I must be getting old.
• Actually, my birthday’s this Saturday.  Know how I’m celebrating?  Mike and I are going up to take our second class at the Sig Academy.  Awwww yeah

That’s all the randomness I can stand for today.  Off to go abuse treadmill.  Happy Tuesday!

Friiiiiiiiiday! (And not a day too soon!) *Update with gun video*

For some reason I was convinced that yesterday was Friday.

At the same time, I *knew* it was Thursday.

My yesterday was therefore a combination of weekend optimism and doleful disappointment.

Let your hair down – it’s Friday! (For real this time!!)

UPDATE: Oops, I forgot!  I’ve been saving this one for Friday!  In case you were wondering — I can’t do this.

Running advice bleg

Good morning all!  So glad it’s Friday!!  I’m sitting here drinking coffee and blearily harvesting Zombies* and wishing it were 5 PM instead of 5 AM.  Ah well, all good things in time, no?

Hey, do I have any long-distance runners out there?  I’ve been alternating days on the exercise bike along with a weight-lifting regime.  I haven’t been running or ellipticalling very much because I can read Kindle while on the bike and that makes it far more appealing at six AM.  However, with the advent of spring and temperatures above 42 (which they’re not right now, BTW) I’d like to get back into running.

As I’ve written before, I’ve never been much of a distance runner:

*Side note: I don’t need to lose any weight for the wedding, but I swear if I gain even an ounce I won’t be able to breathe in my dress.  I’ve thus been getting back into running — I can now go 1.5 miles before I have to stop for a breather, and I usually do another two miles alternating jogging and walking.  What’s interesting is that I find jogging easier nowadays then I did when I was a hardcore Track-and-Fielder back in high school; I was a pure sprinter and specialized in 100-meter races (the high hurdles and the 4X100).  Now that I’m trying to jog on a regular basis, the concept of pawback makes my life a lot easier.  /side note

Mike is also thinking about returning to running.  He’s been eyeing these, in fact:

Has anyone tried these?  What did you think?  Also, would you like to offer any generic advice about getting used to running without hating every second of every minute that you’re doing it?

*Yes, you read that right.  What, you don’t play ZombieFarm?

I just slept almost eleven hours

With a half hour break to clean up kitty puke, mind you. Hallelujah for stock market holidays!

I’ll try to have a real post up later but right now coffee is calling my name …

I woke up this morning . . .

. . . to find a unicorn by my bed, a steaming cup of coffee balanced on his head.  Rajah was perched on the magical creature’s back; he held nonfat nondairy creamer between his fuzzy paws and gravely offered it to me as I hopped out of bed.  It was, of course, 3:00 AM.  After inhaling my coffee I began my usual morning round of scrubbing each and every window, vacuuming and then steam-cleaning the carpets, wiping down the kitchen with bleach, and crocheting a new hat for Rajah.

All my morning chores done, I sliced up carrots, celery, onions and garlic, added spices, then set my homemade vegetable stock to simmer.  I always make my own stock, you know; how else would I create my famous 10-Minute No-Calorie Tastes-Like-Butter So-Good-It’ll-Make-You-Weep Gourmet Meals?

I then went out for a run.  I took a quick run down the street, paused to get water at my office in Boston, then ran on back to Lissaville.  For a bit of practice I climbed up the side of the building rather than using that wussy elevator. A passing policeman looked a bit askance at me but I blew him a kiss and he went on his way, dazed.

Once back at the apartment I cleaned up the kitchen (again) and then showered and dressed. I spent forty-five minutes blow-drying and straightening my hair before twisting it into an eminently professional yet ethereally flattering style.  I made my lunch and prepared to depart for work.

Only then I realized that it was only six AM and I had hours yet to spare.  So I put my lunch in the fridge, kicked off my commuter-stilettos and set about solving world peace.

Do I even need to say April Fools?  Yeah, I didn’t think so.