Archive for the ‘mishaps’ Category

Maybe I’m Just Tired

April 5, 2009

(My heavy head is full of debris  -As Tall As Lions)

Like my sick kitty, the wisdom teeth, the car mirror, locking the keys  in the car, getting my hand stuck in the shredding bin, and people who don’t help their kids.

(I know we’re all souls just trying to connect with someone – As Tall As Lions)

Dan Nigro played in bare feet and said his father owns a paper company like Dunder Mifflin, and my sick kitty is brave and full of purrs even when she’s unwell, and it’s National Poetry Month, and she made me an ATAL shirt and he gave me a Liguus fasciatus shell.

(You’re lost in your mind -As Tall As Lions)

Is anything going to happen in Agnes Grey or is she just going to go on and on about being a governess and will I ever figure out what’s going on in Little Dorit or will I just continue to watch because of Matthew MacFayden, will she get better or will she just keep losing weight, is she in pain, how much better looking can Jack get and when will Des be on again, do people really get what’s coming to them (is it wrong of me to hope they do) and what’s the plural of amaryllis?

(I stay awake thinking this life is lonely – As Tall As Lions)

Maybe that’s why I just want to sit and work on eggs, bent over the table, listening to music, getting a stiff neck. Lost.

Evidence that my pets hatch evil plans

January 4, 2009

zeldatree

 Zelda contemplates holiday decor.

centerpiece

She thinks there is too much red and green in the house. She will destroy what she can…and stealthily leave the scene.evidence

Upsanddownsandupsanddownsdowns

February 20, 2008

Down: On the way to a college music audition a car may be stopped in the middle of a very busy 6 lane highway and you may not be able to stop in time to avoid hitting it

Up: You think you are fucked and about to become the middle part of a multi-car wreck, but everyone else is able to stop and you live another day

 Down: Car looks like someone punched it in the nose

Up: Car is perfectly driveable

Up: Other car is fine

Down: FHP saw you had already exchanged insurance and asked if you wanted an accident report and you said yes since that’s what they taught you in driver’s ed 500 years ago and you’d never had an accident before and he didn’t bother to explain that he would proceed to write you up since you rear ended someone

Up: Audition goes well and your daughter gets accepted to music school

Down: School’s tuition is $28,000

Up: There is a promise of scholarships

Down: You wish you were the one going off to college

Up: Two days earlier she auditioned and was accepted at another college

Down: Friday you will drive 5 1/2 hours to another audition

Up: Friday you will be off work

Down: Your cat has been dragging her ass on the carpet  

Up: You know the song “Shit Luck” but it’s not a very hummable tune

Down: The dentist charged $104 for a teeth cleaning

Up: Your teeth glisten

Down: You are reading an historical-romance-time travel book called Outlander, where the heroine runs around the moors with a hunky Highlander and has frequent sex with him in between death-defying adventures

Up: The book is entertaining

Down: You keep thinking about how you try to follow rules and do things the right way and how you always end up fucking yourself over, like by getting a citation that you could have avoided, even though you can take an online course so you won’t have points, but still you wonder why the FHP cop couldn’t have just kindly mentioned to you the way it worked so that you could avoid the citation because you really don’t like being labeled as a careless driver when it wasn’t even your fault that some douchebags from Washington DC decided to sit stopped in the middle lane of I-4 because someone in front of them put on their emergency brake or stopped and which was it anyway and why didn’t they stop and then go again so that you wouldn’t slam into the back of their car and have to wonder for 15 seconds if you were going to die and later live and be labeled as a careless driver

Down: People say trite things about being “a child at heart” or “being on a journey”  and it makes you cringe just like when they say “old school” or “back in the day

Down: You hate not being in on all the adult secrets like how to not get a citation when you rear-end someone and how to cheat on your income tax return and how to get stuff for free and how to talk to people without feeling like an awkward spaz and how to let things go instead of obsessing about them and constantly blaming yourself for everything that’s a down

The fiery death of a tiny pink teapot

November 8, 2007

Last night was the night I almost set the house on fire.

 

Ok, maybe I’m being dramatic here, but there were flames and flames are scary when they aren’t coming from candles. I put a pot of water on to boil, but turned on the wrong burner.  A tiny pink teapot was on the other burner and just when I realized that my pot of water wasn’t getting hot and the tiny pink teapot looked white hot instead of pink, the plastic handle burst into flames.

 

I sputtered a few “Ohs!” and “Oh dears” as I tried to figure out how best to deal with it. E came in to help. I picked the tiny flaming teapot up with a long metal spoon and put it in a bigger pot and put it under the faucet. E turned the water on and successfully doused the flame. There would have been better ways to handle this but I didn’t think of them. A fire extinguisher would have worked well for one. I think I will get one right away.

 

We stood there saying “shit” and “holy shit”. Just as I recovered my sarcasm and said “Nice smoke detectors” one started screeching. So I brought the ladder in from the garage, climbed up and disconnected the battery after much fumbling and screeching. I looked at the little ashes floating in the air and wondered how toxic the smoke from a burning tiny teapot handle could be.

 

I climbed down off the ladder and opened the windows wider and said “holy shit” a few more times, at which time another smoke alarm started screeching and then another. E plugged her ears. I picked the ladder up and realized I had set it down in the litter box on cat shit. Now I had cat shit, toxic smoke, scorch marks and ashes to deal with. And I still hadn’t made dinner.

 

I disconnected the other smoke detectors and wondered if the neighbors heard them. The cat kept on staring at me from the dining room table so I said “I fucked up. What can I say? I fucked up.” She narrowed her eyes and looked away, embarrassed by my lack of grace.

 

We cleaned up. I ignored the molten plastic that had dripped on the stove. I made an unexciting dinner of beans and rice and biscuits which for some reason tasted quite good. I was content that the house smelled like beans and rice instead of toxic burning plastic. I wondered if there was something wrong with me because I often turned the wrong burner on. I reminded myself that my Dad frequently did the same thing yet he learned to fly an airplane.  I knew I would never learn to fly an airplane because flying makes me sick.

 

I cleaned up some more. The molten plastic scraped off easily, like dried wax. There are a lot of little cinder specks remaining that settled in the cobwebs and on every flat surface. So we have dust…black dust. 

 

Later I watched “America’s Next Top Model” and made fun of Tyra Banks.