Saturday, February 26, 2005

Another random photo

Panama City Beach, Florida, July 2004.

Thursday, February 24, 2005

Random photo

Sunset from Mallory Square, Key West, Florida, September 2004.

The demented elf look

I was watching a rerun of Sex and the City the other day in which Charlotte was having problems with her overbearing MIL, who lived with her and her fiancee. Well, the MIL finally moved out but still had a key, I guess. She walked in one morning with muffins and went into the bedroom unannounced and caught Trent and Charlotte having fun in bed. They just stared at her and she froze and eventually left, muttering to herself.

My MIL almost walked in on us three times. The first time was early in our relationship. MIL walked in and I was lying on top of DH (then BF) on the couch. Nothing was happening yet, but it was going to in the near future. Fortunately, we were still dressed. I was half asleep or drunk or something and I kept lying there staring at her and then laid my head down on his chest. He eventually told me to get up because she just stood there in the doorway staring at us with a demented elf look on her face.

The second time, we were in the bedroom. She came in the (unlocked) front door and was making her way back to the bedroom. My husband had to yell at her to stop her from walking all the way to the bedroom in the back of the house. She was already halfway there. He jumped up, put some pants on and went to see what she wanted. She kept him for a looong time and when he finally came back it was completely ruined.

The third time, she knocked on the door and immediately began using her key to unlock the door. She didn't wait for anyone to open the door or tell her she could come in, she just whipped the key out like she lived here. In this house, our bedroom is right next to the door and he had to jump out of bed and throw on some boxers to meet her when she opened the door.

Yeah, she's dense. Or maybe she liked to catch us. I don't know. She's a creepy person. Even though she had to know what was going on, she would never leave and kept him for a long time talking or complaining or whatever. I'm sure she enjoyed ruining the moment like she enjoys ruining everything else.

This happened over several years in three different places. The first and second times the door was unlocked and she walked in. The last time was where we live now and the only reason she had a key was b/c she used to live here and she lied and said she gave us all the keys. She has also knocked on the door hundreds of times (OK, maybe not that many, but it seems like it) and interrupted things and she used to call almost every time we did anything when she was still calling all the time. I used to think she somehow knew when we were *trying* to be romantic. I wonder if she still gets the urge to call or come over during those times.

Tuesday, February 22, 2005

Free Mojtaba and Arash

Today is "Free Mojtaba and Arash Day." Mojtaba and Arash are two Iranian bloggers currently in prison for blogging. You can read more about it here or here.

For "Free Mojtaba and Arash Day," we are asked to devote our blogs to them in hopes of calling attention to their plight. I would put a banner up, but I spent the last 30 minutes trying to figure out how to do it and it still doesn't work, so fuck it. But support Mojtaba and Arash!

Sunday, February 20, 2005

Buy your own shit

My SIL has been living next door to us for 2 1/2 years. In that entire time, she has never had her own trash can or pick up service. She uses our trash can that my husband and I pay for. She has usually been the one to take the can to the side of the road. That works out fine since, you know, she's not paying for it and I figure it's the least she can do.

She recently gave him $50 to pay for the service. That covers 3 months. Well, since she gave us the $50, she refuses to bring the can back to our house. Sure, she still takes it to the road, but she will not, I repeat, WILL NOT, bring it back. What is this about? Since she gave us $50 are we now splitting the trash can responsibility? That $50 really makes up for the $500 we have paid. If she really wants to make up for it, she can pay for the service as long as we live here (6 more months at the most). But even if she actually does that she will only have contributed a whopping $150.

This is annoying and not really a big deal, but this is not the only thing she benefits from at our expense. She used to share our cable and she actually paid half of that bill, but then she decided to use another company. That sounds odd and I suspect that she still uses our cable. I wouldn't know. She was also trying to rip me off when she tried to buy my car and never pays DH back when he stops to get beer or food for her on his way home. He's also expected to cut her grass for free and help her with any problems she has with her car or anything else, which he never does because--this is a shocker--he doesn't have time to cater to her every need.


Friday, February 18, 2005

Lawn care tips

OK. It's mid-February and my MIL decides to cut the grass next door at SIL's house. This is what the grass looks like. Sure, there are a few weeds, but most of it is dead. She wasn't cutting the certain parts where weeds ARE growing, she was cutting the whole thing as though it actually needed to be cut. It's been a warm winter, but not warm enough that the grass has been growing.

She actually stopped after a few minutes. Otherwise I would have a picture of her on the lawnmower. Maybe she realized the grass is dead and doesn't need to be cut. DER!

Wednesday, February 16, 2005

Where I wish I was right now

Boardwalk, Gulf Shores, Alabama, May 2004.

Of mice and women

So, I was going to heat up some soup in the microwave today. I opened the door and something came shooting out from behind it. I screamed, not knowing what I was seeing. I quickly focused on the little brown thing flying across the sink. It was a mouse. Damn it!! I have been hearing sounds under the cabinet that sounded like a mouse. It paused behind some dishes and then slid across the counter, dove behind the stove and disappeared.

They have their routine. It starts with very faint noises of scratching, tapping, etc. Then louder noises. Then the first sighting. After that, they keep getting braver until you start seeing them all the time. They slide across the floor, flailing their tiny legs like a cartoon character and hit the wall. They crawl onto the couch next to you when you are eating and disappear again when you notice them. They play hide and seek. They invite their friends.

This is the third time in 2 1/2 years that we have had mice. Or mouse. But probably mice. The fun part is getting the traps and hoping they'll get caught when my husband's home so I don't have to deal with them myself or sit there knowing that one is stuck to the flypaper. No mice killing here. The only cruel thing we do to them is slather them with oil to get them off the paper. The look they give me when I'm pouring cooking oil on them is priceless. Then they just slide off and waddle away.

I might as well start keeping them as pets if I'm going to have them here every year or so anyway.

Sunday, February 13, 2005

Crazy, crazy MIL

My husband and I went with a couple of friends to eat at the restaurant where MIL works on New Year's Day. I wasn't happy about going, but everyone else wanted to go there, so I decided it would be a chance to annoy MIL and get to make fun of her for doing something weird and/or stupid. Since everything she does is weird or stupid or both, it would be a given.

The host seated us in her section and she got to serve us! Yay!! She greeted everyone else personally and since I was trying to ignore her, she decided to talk to me.

"Oh, Soosahn, do you want to go to sleep?"

"Umm, yeah?"

"Ooooooooh, me, too!" *Giggle* (Walks away)

We all had gone to bed drunk about 7 a.m., it was about 12:30 p.m. and my eyes were puffy from about 2 hours of sleep and, of course, drinking A LOT. This exchange was typical, but still weird. And that's just the beginning.

We order drinks and then food. MIL brings out everyone's food except mine.

"What kind of dressing do you want with your salad?"

Nevermind that I already told her, but why is she bringing my salad WITH the rest of the food? And why am I served last?

"I guess I get to eat my salad while my food gets cold," I said after she walked away. Grrrrr.

Midway through the meal, MIL asks to refill everyone's drinks. We all had sweet tea and she had a pitcher of it in her hand. She refills everyone else's, then asks if I want a refill.

"Yes, thanks."

SHE TOOK THE GLASS WITH HER BACK TO THE KITCHEN! WTF?! What is she doing to my drink? I was thinking.

Me: "Why is she taking my drink back to the kitchen?"

DH: "I think she ran out (of tea in the pitcher)."

Me: "Well, when she brings it back you're switching drinks with me. If she put something in it, you're going to deal with it."

DH: "I don't think she would put something in it, baby."

Me: "How do you know?"

She brings the glass back and when she leaves I make DH switch with me.

"If you get sick, it's because of your mother."

"If I get sick it's because I'm hung over."

Friend: "That's what she wants you to think." *Evil grin*

It was a joke, but maybe not far from the truth. Anyway, he didn't take a drink out of it. Not even once. He must think she would put something in my drink, too. I was going to switch drinks in front of her right when she brought it, but everyone was telling me not to. Peer pressure. I wished I had done it, though. I wanted to see if she would take it back or say something about me switching with DH. Then we would know for sure if she did something to it.

Tuesday, February 08, 2005

Courthouse vigilantes

I had to go to the courthouse today to get some paperwork. When I got there, there was about 10 people in line behind the only open window. I got behind them and waited. When I was the third in line, another window opened. The lady in front of me went to the other window and I stayed where I was. She asked me if the person behind the counter didn't open the window before the lady in front of me was done, would I let her back in front of me. Of course, I'm not a bitch.

The window opened up in time and the people behind me decided to alternate every other person in line to go to the other window. So, the lady behind me walks over to the other window when a girl walked in the door and got behind her, walking past the now more than 25 people in line behind me.

All hell broke loose.

Several people behind me told the girl she couldn't get in that line because we had all been waiting a long time and she just got here. She stood her ground. A man got in front of her. She moved out of the way but asked what everybody's problem was. A lady tried to explain to her that everyone was angry because she just walked through the door and got in the shortest line.

She said, "What-EHVA lady. Don't talk to me."

No one tried to explain anything to her again. What they did was talk about her.

An elderly lady said, to no one in particular, "It's rude when someone just walks in the door and cuts in line in front of everyone. They should wait their turn. They wouldn't like it if someone did that to them."

Other comments followed.

She didn't say anything when more people began getting in front of her. I had a smile on my face. It's nice when rude people get put in their place. Too bad it doesn't happen more often.

Sunday, February 06, 2005

Backwoods Godfather

We met the Godfather today. He was selling boiled peanuts with his grandson out of his pick up truck on a street corner in the country. On a flatbed trailer hitched to the truck, were several large, white buckets filled with peanuts. The sign simply advertised "boiled peanuts" in black ink.

We pulled up and rolled down the window. The Godfather comes up and says hello in his raspy, hoarse voice. It sounded like it hurt him to talk.

"Ummm...I'd like a thing of boiled peanuts."

"We got too dolla, free dolla, fo dolla and figh dolla."

"Two dolla."

The Godfather walks away. Party boy grandson with zero gage earrings and Independent shirt and jeans gives us the peanuts packed in a 20 ounce styrofoam cup from the Kwik Shop down the street.

"Two dollars."

I hand over the money and he walks away. As I roll up the window, we here the Godfather speak.

"Did you get the money?"

Saturday, February 05, 2005

I'm soooooo interesting

So, I was coming home from the gym and a couple of friends who own a repair shop behind our house were leaving as I was pulling in. We stop and chat a few minutes right next to SIL's house. Well, after a few minutes, she decides to come outside and stand on the porch to listen, I guess.


If she and MIL hate me so much, why do they care so much about what I'm doing? She just stood there for a few minutes and then went back inside. Her 4-year-old daughter even came closer to peer into the cars to see what we were doing. Two guesses as to whether she told her to do it. I guess her nosiness overtook her desire to act like I don't exist. It would be great if they would act like I'm not there all the time instead of butting into my business so they can talk shit about me.

It would also be nice if they would stop asking DH why I'm at the house all day when I should be looking for a job. It's called making phone calls, sending resumes, looking on Careerbuilder et al for ads, etc. I don't have to go door to door begging someone to hire me for a shit job because I'm unskilled and don't have a resume.

And they really don't care about how I'm doing, they don't need to know what I'm doing and they don't need to and don't really want to take me to dinner so they can ask me what my "problem" is. STOP ASKING!

FUCK OFF!! Geez.

Defective shopping list

A few years ago, MIL asked me to go to the store for her so she could cook lunch for everyone. Jose was at work and she was watching SIL's kids, so I agreed. She told me EXACTLY what to get, repeated everything several times and made me right it down. I still remember to this day: a six-pack of diet caffeine-free Cokes, not a 12-pack, but a six-pack; the smallest box of baby wipes they had; a pound of Roma tomatoes and mole (a sauce).

When I got back, she asked me why I didn't get a 12-pack of Cokes, why I didn't get the biggest box of baby wipes and why I had gotten 2 different kinds of mole, spicy and green instead of regular, even after I explained to her that they were out of the regular mole and that was all they had. She explained to me that it was more practical to buy a 12-pack b/c it's cheaper and she wanted the biggest box of baby wipes so SIL could use them.

I got exactly what she asked for and reminded her that I wrote it down in front of her, but nooooooo that's not what she wanted. Then she complained about 500 times about the mole.

That was the last time I went shopping for her.

Friday, February 04, 2005


My SIL lives next door and shares our trash pickup service and trash can. Every Thursday night she takes the can to the road so it can be picked up the next day. Jose and I got home after 11 p.m. yesterday and SIL was dragging the trash can to the road. This morning, I looked at the caller ID and she had called at 11 p.m. a few minutes before we got home.

Now...we have 3 cars. Last night, we were driving 2 of them. So...that meant only one car was parked at the house. I asked Jose if she called after we got home to be sure and he said no, she must have called to ask us if we wanted her to take the trash can to the road. Ummm...not only is she too stupid to count how many cars are in the driveway, but she forgot that she has been taking the trash can to the road for like a year since she doesn't pay for the service.

Oh my God. She's turning into her mother. I don't know if I can handle two brain dead, insane bitches.

Thursday, February 03, 2005

Call me BACK

I have to document this. I want to remember it forever. It's one of those things that you wish you could remember when you want to laugh.

Today, Jose called someone and was had to leave a message. He leaves the worst messages in the world.

Example: "My name is Jose G. My number is --------." (hangs up)
I'm constantly reminding him, "Tell people why you call!"

So today he starts to do the same thing and I say, "Call me back...," trying to get him to tell the reason for his call. It went like this:

"My name is Jose G. My number is --------." Pause. "Call me back. Call me back. Baby, gaaawd!" Hangs up.

*Snort* *Giggle*

He refused to call the guy back to leave a normal message b/c "he'll think I'm retarded." could let him know you're not by leaving a not-stupid message, but whatever.

The guy called back later and I ended up talking to him. He sounded a little confused. (Hehe) I wish I would have thought to ask him to forward that message to my phone. Damn. I would listen to that every day.