Friday, July 30, 2010

living with a man who is deaf in one ear and doesn't hear with the other

Me: [with hose in hand] Did you already water the tomatoes?

Him: Yeah, please.

Me: I asked if you already watered them.

Him: Yes.

Me: You did?

Him: I want you to. Everyday.

Me: [walks away muttering incoherently]

Thursday, July 29, 2010

It's not you, it's me.

Well. I broke up with my therapist.

Not really. We aren't on bad terms or anything. It's just that I've been going for more than a year. And while I'm not necessarily "fixed" I do feel progress has been made.

And I need some space.

If things get too emotional or difficult for me in the future, I can go back.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

anal-retentives anonymous

After my last post, I felt I had exposed myself as the anal-retentive psycho that I am. So much so that I googled anal to make sure I spelled it right. (I am also a terrible speller.) By the way, NEVER google anal. Google thinks I am a dirty girl.

Anyway, I came across a post with the following list:

Top 5 signs you are anal-retentive (parenthetical comments are mine)

  1. You keep large redundant amounts of all your sundries such as laundry detergent so that you never risk running out. (Getting paid once a month lends itself to this behavior.)
  2. You don’t just sort the money in your wallet by $1, $5, $10, or $20, but also sort the bills by wear-and-tear so that you get rid of the bills in the worst shape first. (Duh. Ratty bills gotta go.)
  3. You look up anal-retentive to see whether it needs a hyphen. (Or how to spell it.)
  4. You don’t just keep a grocery list, you micro-optimize order of the items on the grocery list so that you only make one pass through the grocery store. (Okay, this is just smart. I do most of my grocery shopping at Costco and Super Target, both of which are large stores. I don't want to backtrack.)
  5. After a power outage or when Daylight Savings Time starts or ends, you feel the need to set all your clocks to the same minute and second. (Actually, I tend to add a minute to the last one I did thinking it will take me that long to get through the hours and minutes.)
  6. It really irritates you when someone says a list has 5 items and you count six. (No, it really irritates me when someone tells me something is on the right or left and at 32 years of age, I still have to pause and think about which is my right.)

And in what ways are you anal-retentive? Or are you at all?

Monday, July 26, 2010

just don't tell me I'm overreacting

Sometime back, I went all bonkers when a gopher killed my beloved Mexican seedless lime tree and I bought several very beautiful, but very poisonous plants.

Oleander is planted with great frequency in this part of the world. I doubt you could go more than a block in most neighborhoods without seeing one or twelve of the things.

It is very often planted alternating white and red or dark pink plants. I don't care for the effect of this particular style. A bit too candy cane-ish for me.

I bought several (seven, but only planted six) white plants and stuck them in the ground, creating a border along the front fence, between us and a fairly busy, but still unfortunately, dirt road.

I really like white flowers. They're like sophisticated or some shit. Cool and clean and lovely and WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT SHIT???

That is a goddamned dark pink motherfucking oleader. How the fuck did that happen?

Seriously. Me? Not happy. I mean, I'm not like a white oleander suprem@cist or anything like that. I just like what I like. And I freaking bought white oleander for the fenceline. Many of them already had tiny blossoms on them and it was easy to tell. But with others I had to rely on those lovely little tags the nice garden center people put on. And! The fact that the white ones (and the dark pink ones, as it turns out) are larger than the salmon ones I bought for the side of the house.

Ahhh, see? Pretty salmon oleander. A light pink (not white) for against the light yellow house. I don't have to have all white. But that dark pink son-of-a-bitch just don't look right.


Earthship (and gratuitous panda)

One more for the alternative housing trend we have going on here.

On one hand, I find this video to be inspiring. On the other, I feel like a complete asshole for not living this way already. (I must be good right now! FAIL!)

And for anyone who either can't watch the video or is sick to death of houses, here's a cutie...

I like to think of him (her?) as a bamboo flautist.

Saturday, July 24, 2010


So there I am, flipping through a magazine my mom thought I might like (a special issue about small houses) and I come across a page about cool things for the kitchen. And there it is. The Kitchen Pencil. Just imagine: while stirring the pot, you remember that you need to pick up some vanilla extract the next time you go to the store. And guess what! There's no need to find a pencil, because YOUR WOODEN SPOON IS A PENCIL. That's right, for only $35 USD, you can have the pleasure of drizzling your hollandaise all over your thumb and wrist just to avoid the hassle of finding a pencil. Nevermind that finding a piece of paper is damn near impossible in my house. Fucking kids. Too bad it's not a ballpoint pen. That way I could just write it on my forearm like I usually do.

Thursday, July 22, 2010

straw bale house

Has it become painfully obvious yet that I am a wee bit obsessed with houses? Ready for more?

This house was featured in the magazine Real Simple about a thousand years ago. I was so infatuated with that issue that it disintegrated. I poured over the pictures of this house for hours at a time.

Are we all familiar with straw bale construction? There is no may or may not be wood framing (for the exterior walls). No modern, fabricated insulation materials. They stack straw bales, reinforce them with rebar posts, and stucco the surface.

The thick assemblage of straw makes for excellent insulation and comfortable temps inside. Absolutely fascinating, as far as I'm concerned.

Aside from having such a cool (literally, heh) method of construction, I thought this house had a great layout. Big, open living space. Open kitchen. Built in bookshelves. Clerestory windows. Sliding bedroom doors (a sliding wall even). Exterior shower door (like you can get in and out of the shower from the outside). Indoor/outdoor fireplace. Wide overhangs. Swoon, swoon, swoon.

A couple more photos can be found at the link below (and you might be able to buy the plans too):

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

container house

While we're on the subject of unique houses... I remember when I first heard of someone building a cargo container house. It was a featured story on the evening news on one of the LA TV stations. Well, some very creative people have been very busy the last few years. There is a lot of variety out there. Just Google cargo container houses. Here are a few.

Some are BIG.

Some are modest.

Some get stacked up for apartments. (I think this is in London.)

And some are marketed as dormitories. (Okay, this one's just creepy. All that sameness spread out like that.)

And for the treehouse lovers out there...

Holy shit. Too precarious for me.

Now I'll let you know... I have a cargo container in my backyard. We bought it for storage when we moved into this house, knowing that we wouldn't be able to afford to build a garage anytime soon. (It's been six years so far. Still no garage.)

Well, I have big ideas for that cargo container. I'm thinking we need to get rid of all that crap in there that we don't use anyway and fix ourselves up a little guest house. Emptying it will be a lot of work, but I think we could finish up the inside pretty reasonably. The trick will be keeping the city out of it. You wouldn't believe the crap you have to go through in this neck of the woods to do what you want with your own property. Fuckers. Anyway. It will have to remain modular. Not permanently connected to the septic tank or water or electricity or anything like that. I'm thinking solar panels wouldn't be out of the question. Self-contained toilet. Maybe even a living roof (or not, that might lead to leaks). The possibilities are too fun to think about. Just today I found a FREE sliding glass door on craigslist. I'm still waiting to hear back from the lady, so keep your fingers crossed for me. If I can get the door used, that will save me a couple-few hundred dollars. And then there's the recycled vinyl flooring. And, and, and...

Monday, July 19, 2010

tiny house

89 square-feet. That's two digits, people. Not exactly ideal for living with teenaged children or entertaining the extended family, but very very cool design and mobility.


A little update for those of you who might not be able to watch the video for any reason... This photo kills me. It's not the one in the video, but another by the same designer. (And I totally ordered his book.)

The car is bigger than the house! House. Not outhouse. House.


Mmmmkay, I may be just a tiny bit obsessed. Here's one more video...

Friday, July 16, 2010

bitch, moan and groan

I walk around muttering. It's hot. Why is it so hot? It's really hot. Why are you looking at me like that? Quit staring at me.

There was thunder and lightening and then a few fires started in the neighboring towns as lightening struck the dry brush. Then the rain started, but it didn't last long enough and it just evaporated as soon as it hit the ground. Like the floor of a sauna. Then the power went out and the air conditioning and ceiling fans went with it and that's when my muttering started.

Thankfully the power came back before too long (thanks to the lovely Edison workers). After the rain the air outside smelled something like a frog's ass. Or what I imagine a frog's ass would smell like.

Why do I live here? It's way too fucking hot.

Oh, right. It's home. Family. House. Job. Roots.

In a couple months the heat will pass and fall will come and I'll love it again. But right now? It's just really fucking hot.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Amongst the Waves

>> There is only one Ocean for everyone. Look after it for present and future generations.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

As SB says...

I just like the damn picture, okay.

I've been a fan of Janis since forever. (As the ad says, "it only looks like the real thing.")

And I want that room. (The plants! The color! The floor!)


Read Sarcastic Bastard here.

Monday, July 12, 2010

just an update

I suppose it’s time for an update on my friend Lori. If you are new here, get the brief back story here.

The trial is underway, but I am not completely clear on some details. Like, I don’t think there is a jury (yet?), but how can you call it a trial without a jury? The publicly available minutes at this point are very brief and are not full transcripts. They really only say that she and the lawyers were present in court, that she is still being held in custody, and when the next court date is. I talked to her husband a couple weeks ago and I suppose I need to call him again. (I had heard a rumor that he was remarried (!) and had to check in with him. He laughed out loud and said no, absolutely not. He has filed for divorce but it is not yet final. And he’s not even letting people fix him up yet. He told me to tell the person spreading that rumor to shut up and that they are an idiot. Which made me laugh.)

I had a dream on Sunday morning that Lori was out of jail and pregnant. She looked hopeful. That dream gave me such a feeling of dread and sadness that I couldn’t go back to sleep. It gave me only a little comfort to remember that she had her tubes tied after Garrison was born.

I still find myself sometimes thinking of something she and I agreed about, and how that agreeing made me feel verified. And then I remember what happened and that maybe the statement “Lori agrees/d with me,” no longer holds water.

Saturday, July 10, 2010

she's what we call "a planner"

She's already talking about Christmas. She tells me what she wants for Christmas. And what kind of birthday party she wants. IN NOVEMBER. She asks Austin what he wants for Christmas and then he starts talking about Christmas and I start yelling about Christmas. NO MORE TALKING ABOUT CHRISTMAS UNTIL AFTER YOUR BIRTHDAY. NO MORE TALKING ABOUT YOUR BIRTHDAY UNTIL AFTER SUMMER. AAAAACKK.

We're planning a trip to Disneyland to stay in the hotel there in October. October of 2011. She doesn't even know where we're going, only that there will be a hotel involved. And she wants to know about the hotel pool. And where we will eat dinner and what she should pack. If she knew it was the big D I would never hear the end of it.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

big a$$ mofo earthquake

Okay, it was only a 5.9 (some sources say 5.7, oops, now 5.4) and it was something like 40 miles away. But that was as good as I've been shook for a while.

Dan says mail and crap fell off the counter at home. I'm suddenly feeling clostrophobic claustrophobic in my office.

But damn! I love the internet. Info:

And then there's the aftershocks...

Thursday, July 1, 2010

orange sky

Alexi Murdoch

another example of why I hate making phone calls

So, my insurance provider for Behavioral Health (AKA mental issues) has been changed. I am currently in therapy. I called today to make sure I could continue going to the same therapist and when the nice man answered the phone, I explained where I work, that this company is my new provider and that I need to continue therapy. Only after all that, he told me to call back in a half hour. He just works for their answering service. Could have said that before I spilled my guts. Asshole.