I’ve been living out of a suitcase for the past three weekends and even for a full week somewhere in there. Just got home to stay, at least for now. The thought of doing anything resembling driving for the next 40 years is enough to make me cut off my ponytail and hang myself with it.
Just came home to see Kadie in the window (I wasn’t sure ’cause the apartment is up high), but when I got in the house, only Maddie greeted me. Which is weird because Kadie’s the social one. I went to the spare bedroom where I thought I’d seen Kadie, and sure enough, the door was shut (read, she was locked inside it). I don’t have any lights in there, so if there are fudgy surprises to be cleaned (as I don’t know how long she was in there), well, I’ll find out tomorrow. Such is the joy that defines my life, I tell ya.
The drive home blew, to put it mildly. Windows were fogged for the final 90 miles. My make/model of car has that lovely quirk, which prevents me from being able to see out the windows. I have to sit far down in the seat so that the idiots who have bright headlights don’t completely blind me, but then I have to sit up high to see over the incurable foggy patches, so I need a chiropractor right about now. I wish I could have just come home tomorrow, but I’ve got to work in the a.m. The effort really doesn’t seem worth it right now. 😉
I went to my grandparents’ grave, as my grandfather’s military footstone was finally laid and I wanted to see it. But it just goes to show that any idiot can get a job, because the moron who did it centered it over both graves (a no-no — it’s just supposed to go over the soldier’s feet), and to say “centered” was like saying I’m completely normal. In other words, not so much. We’re going to have it redone.
Today is the six-month anniversary of his death, although I guess “anniversary” denotes a happy occasion and of course this is anything but. The grass is finally starting to grow over his grave, and it’s depressing, to say the least. Six months later and it still feels like this was all a complete joke that was played on us.
In other news of incompetence, Oakmont Bakery sucks. For the past five birthdays that I spent in Pittsburgh, they’ve either lost my cake or screwed it up. This year it was totally screwed up, but at least they remembered to bake it. (I love white cake, which you have to order two days in advance.)
So, we had to stand around waiting for them to use the right icing (chocolate buttercream). And the decorating was ugly as hell. I keep telling my mom to stop ordering cakes from there (remember this?) — the treats they make are delicious, but they can’t get an order right to save their lives. Morons. It ended up being very tasty, but next cake comes from Bethel Bakery. Damn it. 😉 Maybe they can get it right!
Speaking of tasty treat overload, Mom gets these bizarre insults from her boyfriend’s ex-wife, who is about to undergo gastric bypass surgery and for some reason she calls my mother fat. (My mom is as petite as it gets; the woman never eats. Why did I not inherit that gene?!?!) I finally saw the ex-wife and I said, “Well, isn’t THAT the pot calling the kettle fat?” LOL.
Seriously, just goes to show that people who name-call are just hoping to call attention away from their own very-obvious faults and they’re banking on the people they bother not actually caring enough to respond!
Speaking of fat, I am chagrined that my recent case of gastrointestinal chaos only caused me to lose seven pounds. Seriously? My jeans are falling off of me without a belt. Maybe I need to pick up some more germs to get down to my goal weight! 😉
I was very impressed last week when one of my colleagues said that they were afraid I was going to move back home to take care of my grandfather while he was still here and/or to take care of my mom after we lost him. To the point that there were dollar amounts and computers and Internet compensation as part of the bribery package to set up a satellite office in case I did pick up and go.
I’ve never had an employer want to fight to keep me before. It’s stuff like that that’s keeping me loyal. (Wonder if that offer still stands if I move to Jamaica or something instead!) 😉
In any event, so glad to be home. I need to get my house in order next month; I’d like to actually show it to people at some point. My colleague/friend who kitty-sat while I was in Vegas said she loved the place and also adored my new couch/loveseat, and she has good taste so I believe her.
Well, nothing else coherent to say. Looks like I’ve got to do a whole lot of writing tomorrow, so I may just have to stay fairly local and miss out on a really good party. Or I could just slap a lot of shit together and call it a day pretty quickly since it is a holiday and I’m fucking exhausted but too wired to sleep because I just had four cups of coffee to keep me awake during the drive.
I think I’m going to sleep on my new couch for the first time tonight. It’s too daggone hot in the abode and the rent’s too expensive to actually start paying high utility bills just yet.
Oh, last thing. We went to a community fair last night in Pittsburgh (with Zambelli fireworks — fabulous!) and there was a T-shirt for sale that said, “I’m surrounded by jagoffs.” OMG, LOVED it! But it was a men’s shirt, so I passed on it. But if it was a little more fitted and had a scoop neck, I woulda bought it in a heartbeat. Because truer words were never printed, I tell ya!