Blabbers

I don't have a lot to say since it's still pretty early and not much has happened yet.

1) I almost ran over not one, but two, cats this morning on my way to school.
A sign, perhaps?

2) Today, today, is the proclaimed unofficial last day of organized class as I/we know it complete with graduation practice and I'm sure lots of picture taking.
I think back on my last graduation practice a mere three years ago, yes, I am a baby, and  of how these will soon be people I'll probably never see again and remember somewhat fondly in pictures. 
I hope.

3) Speaking of pictures...
Yesterday I received my second year book from this place.
There's only two pictures of me in the whole 200 page complete color thing and in both of them my hair is a flat wreck.
Not a flat wreck, but a flat. wreck.
Awful, just awful.
Couldn't someone have warned me?!

I totally get why people get married at the court house now.
Dang, this is expensive.

Windy Days Deserve I-talics

Today was quite the blustery day.
I love blustery days.
I love the wind whipping through my hair and pushing against me when I walk.

I don't love the knots the wind puts in my hair.
Last time my hair got all knotted up I didn't brush it for two days in an effort to...
I'm not sure what I was trying to accomplish.
I just didn't brush my hair for two days and the knots fell out after two washings.

I think I'd like living somewhere where the wind blew all the time.
I'd probably have to do something practical with my hair though.
Like braid it everyday.
Or keep it in a ponytail.

I Will Kiss You...

At O'Charley's

In honor of the storm this morning, I'd like to post my favorite corny joke/riddle of all time.
Ahem.
"If April showers bring May flowers, then what do May flowers bring?"
Give up?
Pilgrims!
Ahahahahah!!


(Oh, and thanks to the powers that be at Blogger HQ for the spellcheck button.  Sometimes I go a little brain dead and I need it.)

My New Favorite Bad Thing

from

I'm trying to do this eco-friendly swap on everything I can but, I have found that this is the best cleaner!

It even removes rust!!!

Strange Sights

-A naked baby doll in the middle of an intersection
-A high heel shoe on side of the road
-A pair of reading glasses on a grave in a cemetery
-One tennis shoe in the middle of a country road
-A leather glove in the middle of a country road
-The aforementioned's mate two miles later

A Dress

Remember last month when I found "the one?"
Turns out it wasn't "the one."
I found it and I bought it. 
Then I took it with me to Target because I was afraid someone might steal it out of my car and I can't afford that!
Now I'm scared that the apartment is going to burn down with my dress in it!
This is too much stress for an event for one day that will forever burn in personal infamy.

Dear Boots,

from

Can we just elope?

I saw a man using a stationary pay phone this afternoon on my way home from work.
I thought about writing something about how much a weird thing to do that seemed to be these days, but then some lady near 'bout murdered me with her SUV by moving over in my lane on top of me with no signal!
Where are the police when you need them?!
I thought about writing something about that until I saw a cockroach in my kitchen that was so big it could have toted me off!
I thought it was coming to get me, but I screamed and it ran under the stove.

It's April 15.
Do you know where your taxes are?

Wedding Prayer

So yesterday, I'm giving a preacher (yes, living) a ride in the hearse back up to the funeral home from the cemetery.
His eyes catche my flashy engagement ring and he asks me a whole bunch of questions about Boots and when I'm getting married...blah, blah, blah...the regular rigamaroll.
When I stop to let him out at his truck, he reaches over and grabs my hand and starts to pray for mine and Boots marriage.
Something about protection on the highways and criminals and mostly just Boots related stuff.
He never prayed for me not kill him or anything like that.

Oh, The Horror! Part Two

So this morning...
Heh heh, you know this is gonna be good.

So this morning, I'm walking the dog, picking up the poop, walking to throw the poop away, and I see him- George Lopez is clomping down his stairs.
I just glared at him and kept on walking while I couldfeel the temperature and my blood pressure rising.
I made it to the doggy poopy dumpster and good ol' George was waiting on me by his truck.
I drop off my stinky deposit and turn to walk away.

"Hey."
Ugh...
Turn around, glare some more.

"I wanted you to know it was an accident and I'm sorry...blah blah blah."
Somebody is really pouring the heat to my blood pressure at this point.

"Blah blah blah...I took those dogs out three times yesterday.  He was just marking his territory."

"Oh, yeah?!  Well my face is not his TERRITORY!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
That's what I wanted to say, but all I did was glare.

"We're moving..."

"Well, that will be nice!"
I stomped off like a real you-know-what.

"I was gonna offer to pay for the shirt....."

"WHAT ABOUT MY FACE????!?!?!?!?!"
Ugh.
No, I didn't say that but, man, oh, man I really wanted to.

I was so mad.
I was mad all over again.
I stomped off to work with my angry eyebrows and called the landlady as soon as the clock struck 8.

No answer.
Doesn't anybody get to work on time?

I got busy doing funeral stuff though and forgot to call back but, not to worry, the landlady remembered she forgot to call me last night after church.
I proceeded to tell the story again and explain to her how furious I was.
She said she totally understood and would write them a nice nasty letter explaining that having peeing dogs, or better yet, any dogs, hanging out all day on the balcony was totally against the rules.
Thanks, landlady, my nice nasty letter wouldn't have been that nice.

In the meantime, the chihuahua people have packed up what I hope is their last truckload and left.
The dogtrack over my head has been quiet this afternoon so I'm assuming they've left for good.
Here's hoping.

And if, by some weird weirdness, the chihuahua people are reading this......
Idk what to say.
Thanks for the material?

Homemade Yogurt

Mad scientist in the kitchen,

experimental I'll be.

Recipe I find,

adapted every time.

Disaster will be formed

out of my masterpiece.

Treat not worth eating,

the flop that ensues.

Resign myself to the box

for the taste can't be duplicated.

Oh, The Horror!

Where is that post about the chihuahuas that live upstairs?!
I was standing on the porch at my apartment this afternoon talking to my roommate when I felt something wet drip on me.
I screamed and she thought I had been stung by a wasp.
The dog upstairs on the balcony peed on me!!
I got peed on by a dog that doesn't even belong to me!!
I was furious.
I went upstairs and banged on the people upstairs door.
The man that looks like a white George Lopez answered and his wife peeked out behind him while I yelled at them about their dog taking a whiz on my face.
She said, "We're sorry."
And I sarcastically said thanks and ran back down the stairs before George Lopez pushed me down them.
I was so mad I was shaking.
I called the land lady and she was supposed to call me back after she got out of church but I think she forgot.
I'll call her back in the morning.
This ain't over yet.
I've got half a mind to put one of Nikki's turds on their mat.

Homemade Biscuits

In an effort to escape the box (or the can) I've been trying to branch out and make things from scratch rather than buy them premade.

Everybody knows (especially Boots) that I have this thing for The Pioneer Woman.
PW has opened my...no...influenced my...not exactly...she's...
What can I say about Pioneer Woman?
She's The Pioneer Woman!

So, I've got this really easy-peasy recipe from her cookbook for homemade biscuits.
The biscuits themselves are really good, but the cook herself, i.e. me, needs practice.
I've made these biscuits twice and while I love them (since I put the work into them and I'll eat just about anything!), they are not quite refined enough for the culinary tastes of more delicate stomachs.

They need work.
They.  Are.  Thick.
Too thick.

I love a thick biscuit, but not so thick that they're not quite cooked (or is it baked?) all the way through.

They need work.

(I do have pictures of the first batch I made but, I'm still having problems with my laptop and memory card.  My apologies!)

House Hunting

Apparently, my computer has lost its mind and unanimously voted that the relationship between it and my camera's memory card has ended.
They're no longer speaking.
(Sigh.  I never thought it would come to this.)
Therefore, I cannot show you any house pictures that I took Tuesday on the latest mission.
I'll just have to tell you instead (again!)

The House with the Red Carpet Porch was the first house we found.
Boots has been stalking it online for a week or two and we finally decided to check it out.
Drove out to The House with the Red Carpet Porch's neighborhood and matched up the numbers.
The house is cute.
It has a big front yard and a stone wall on the left side like The House on the Left.
A big kitchen and big living room with a side porch covered in red carpet.
We saw the pictures online and really liked it but once we got there we nixed it.
Location really is everything.
The neighbors across the street have toilets in the yard.
Waking up in the morning and seeing somebody's shining hiney on the pot out my kitchen window is not my idea of starting the day off right.

We turned around real quick-like and went one street over to our next address (this is kinda like geo-caching, right?)
The Wood College House.
The name tells it all.
Big, beautiful cedar house stained brown.
Big front porch.
Big yard.
Big carport.
Open the front door, step inside, big racket from the door pulling the linoleum back.
Not a good sign.
(I was feeling hopeful about this one because there was a huge pile of pennies in one of the carport windows.
I figured if that many pennies followed me to that house, it had to be a good sign.)
It had obviously been lived in by many college kids.
The carpet was nasty.
Nasty, nasty, nasty!
The walls all had stains and big holes knocked in them.
The furniture was nice though.
And for sale.
Boots said, "Can we buy the furniture but not the house?"
Sure these are minor asthetic problems but living in an old frat house for the rest of my life isn't exactly home sweet home either.

The last house of the day has no name yet.
My creativity for names has run dry with this house.
The Secret Garden House?
The Enchanted House?
The Mc House?
The Yard House?
I got nothing.
You've probably guessed by now that this house has some kinda yard.
Oh, yeah.
You drive inside the gate and there's trees, bushes, flowers, grasses, shrubs everywhere!
Its like you just stepped inside Better Homes and Gardens or something!
You walk through the carport into the living room where the walls are painted butter yellow.
So cozy.
The walls in the kitchen are painted a pale mint lime green with white cabinets.
The doors on the white cabinets are painted pale mint lime green to match the walls with little hummingbirds painted on the tops of them.
The lady's taste is eclectic but mine is too.
The dining room, oh, the dining room.
Its robins egg blue.
So pretty.
Boots' grandma's furniture would look so good against those walls.

The whole house is just gorgeous and I wish I could post the two pictures of the front yard that I took but, like I said, my computer and memory card aren't speaking and I can't figure out how to help them reconsile their differences.
You'll just have to trust me when I say that this is my dream house and I didn't even know it.
It just feels like home.
I want this house to be my home.

Boots and I are negotiating with our realtor lady and the people that own the house.
I hope this one is the one.

In the meantime, I'm dreaming and scheming, trying to come up with a good name.

I took the first part of my Boards yesterday.
I passed it.
Half my burden is lifted.

Dear Boots,

I love you.
One down, fifty to go.

A Short Update

Last week when Boots and I were house hunting we found a house we liked that I nicknamed The Little Box House.
We made an over on The Little Box House and our offer was rejected.
The people that owned the house thought it was worth more than Boots and I did.
Oh, well.
We'll keep looking.

Dear Drama and Insanity:

I used to think you made life fun,

now you make me wish I had a gun.