Chookah

Grumpy

I'm grumpy today.  Maybe it's the cold, trying to adjust to the time change, maybe it's the fact that my dinner isn't settling well in my stomach.

A friend asked me, "What's your Halloween costume this year?"  I ALMOST said, "Can't you tell?  I'm dressed up as someone who gives a shit."

I think I'm overdue for a massage and a bottle of Xanax.

Who thought this was a good idea?

Two versions of movies: widescreen and full screen.  Even worse is when it's not readily apparent which version is which.  What ever happened to the days when a movie came with BOTH versions?  Oh, it's a money making, parent-aggrivating tactic.

I just bought Over the Hedge for Sebastian.  A very cute movie.  Unfortunately, I grabbed the full screen version.  I know that he doesn't care but I do, mainly because the "full screen" notation on the cover is in little itty bitty type on the bottom left-hand corner of the case.  The last place you look.

"Great, here's Over the Hedge" get it home and "s#$!, it's the wrong version!"

ergh.

How to replace a deck in 13,000 painful steps (part 4)

The deck has gone through a couple of name transitions: The Deck --> The Deck of Terror --> The God-damned Deck and now the latest title:

The Motherfucking Deck

The Motherfucking Stairs (part 1)

• Check with building inspector > green light
• Level ground for pavers
• New nickname: Dr. Jones, as in Indiana Jones the Archaeologist
  
• Move two sprinkler lines
• Return to Home Depot for sprinkler gear (I don't have the piece I need in my "sprinkler bucket", of course)
• Remove a 50-lb "turd" of left-over foundation
• Sort through 1,000,000 fist-sized rocks
• Manhandle no fewer than 6, 36 lb. pavers
• Measure rise and run
• Jump up and down when 2x12x12's will be long enough for the stair stringers
• Return to Home Depot for another 2x12x12
• Measure rise and run again - get completely different measurement (Jen, it's easier said than done)
• Return all 2x12x12's to Home Depot because they are 6" too short for the project
• Cry and scream
• Go to Lowes, manhandle 3, 2x12x16's into cart because there isn't an employee to be found
• Discover that 2x12x16's are covered with mold (I'm very allergic to mold)
• Swear and sweat profusely
• Wait in line for 20 minutes at checkout (did I mention that this is Lowes?) because there is only one inept cashier and 4 other people in line ahead of me
• Wait for 20 minutes for help loading into the car, give up and manhandle into car by myself
• Call and bitch out Lowes for lack of customer service (don't forget, this is Lowes)
• Vow to never shop at Lowes again
• Unload 2x12x16's into driveway because I'm not strong enough to haul them into the backyard and up the retaining wall
• Apply copious amounts of Neosporin and Benedryl to skin
• Pour over deck books and online instructions about creating stringers
• Attempt lame-ass calculations using inaccurate measurements
• Call all the neighbors for help - no one is home or they don't have any idea how to help
  
• Swear profusely
• Debate drinking myself into a coma
• Return to Home Depot for self-tapping masonry bolts
• Return to Home Depot for 8" bolts
• Return to Home Depot for stair angles
• Cry, scream, throw tools into the back yard
• Call no fewer than 12 decking companies, handymen and construction companies - all of which are closed on weekends
• Contemplate drinking myself into a stupor
• Call all the neighbors for help, again - no one is home
• Feel the time crunch, call neighbors for Xanax (again, no help)
• Look at the clock - already 3pm - another weekend wasted, sun is shining full-force into now-scorching 90-degree backyard, can't work until 6pm
• Check calendar - next weekend is 4th of July, no one is going to be home to help
• Look at stair area again, feel like vomiting
• Try and calculate the rise and run, again, stumble over rock retaining wall, scraping leg and get yet a different measurement
• Apply sunscreen, again
• Debate ways to prevent Sebastian from going out on the deck until Motherfucking Stairs are done (rope leash? duct tape? electric shock collar?)
• Write blog post in maddening fury
• Seethe
• Swear profusely

I know that many of you have offered to help.  I appreciate the offers greatly! But unless you know advanced Calculus, know how to work a compound miter or circular saw and can hold back a 135-lb woman as she tries to repeatedly throw herself off The Motherfucking Deck, I'm not sure how you can help. :-(

How to replace a deck in 13,000 painful steps (part 2)

Whoo Hoo!  Memorial Day Weekend!  THREE full days of productivity on the deck project.

SHIT

~Rain Delay~ 

Too slippery and seriously cold to do anything at all.

How to replace a deck in 13,000 painful steps (part 1)

The Deck of Terror (bwhahaha!) must go.  It's a hazard, Sebastian is curious about the "scary deck" and we can't use the stairs to get out of the house in case of fire. It's original to the house, so it's now 20 years old.  20 years of neglect.  Ugh.

(Who in the hell thinks that a piece of plywood is an acceptable landing for a flight of stairs? Honestly.)

(Note the 15' drop and the obvious lack of railing)

Time for a retrofit. You think?

Intital steps:

1. Check health insurance coverage (will it cover maiming of limbs, broken bones, concussions?)
2. Place health insurance card in a readily accessible location
3. Make sure tetanus shots are up to date
4. Check pricing on inflatable stuntman inflatable landing thingy
5. Purchase no fewer than three books on deck construction
6. Plan for two weeks
7. Price composite decking materials
8. Cry
9. Price wood at no less than three home improvement stores
10. Debate selling blood plasma for cash
11. Scrap idea for expanding deck in favor of replacing existing "structure" (if you want to call it that)
12. Guilt neighbors into helping with construction
13. Pimp the ward for engineers to help plan and point out ADDITIONAL items to be fixed in addition to the minimal scope planned
14. Take a crash course in crowbar proficiency
15. Practice walking on a tightrope to improve balance
16. Drill running up and down various types of ladders
17. Find babysitter for Sebastian (preferably off-site)

Har Har

It's funny... but not that funny.

Behold the wonder...

You want to see what 6" of snow looks like?  6" of snow that fell on APRIL 17th!!! (yes, I measured)

I thought you might...

Pitter Patter

Any of you who know me, know of my dislike for anything "alien".  By alien I mean little green men. The kind that scurry around Earth, terrorize the local population, suck their brains and souls.. you know the type.   

I think it began when I was about 6 or 7 when Mom took Nikki and me to see E.T. in one of those ginormous dome theatres whose construction was very popular in the 70's and 80's.  Anyway, I was sick at the time and when I'm sick everything is more intense.  Sounds, smells, sights, they are all amplified. E.T. was a pretty traumatic experience for me (no offense, Mom, you didn't know).  I slept in my parents' bed for several nights, convinced that aliens were coming in through the windows.

I still have a hard time reading books about or watching movies whose subject matter contains aliens.  My most hated alien movie is Signs.  There are a couple of scenes that scared the shit out of me.  The first one was when the alien was scampering across the roof of the house.  I get chills thinking about the sounds of the green guy on the roof and the sheer terror I felt when Joaquin Phoenix went outside to investigate with a mere flashlight ("You idiot!  Take the shotgun! Don't you know that the alien is going to GET YOU!!!").  I have to sleep tonight, I won't go into the other scenes.

Fast forward to last night. I'm sitting in the kitchen dorking around on the computer when I hear this "thunk" on the roof.  What the hell?  I check on Sebastian, thinking that he launched himself out of bed.  He's okay.  I go back to my geek-dom.  A few minutes later I hear scrabbling on the roof and about 30 seconds later "squeak squeak squeak" like someone is rubbing their hands across glass. I look up at the skylight and see nothing, which is a good and a bad thing.

After the squeaking incident I'm sufficiently freaked out.  I grab the flashlight, check the fireplace (maybe some cat fell into the fireplace), check outside in the front yard (not venturing out too far, mind you).  Ginger isn't freaking out about anything and I, once again, return to burning my eyes out in front of an LCD screen.  A few minutes after that the scrabbling across the roof returns.  It's definitely not the wind. The rafters are creaking a little too much for wind.... hmmm...

What do I do?  Call Dad, who convinces me that it's a racoon.  No sooner does he say that when Ginger freaks out about something in the yard, let's out her BIG dog bark and bolts off the deck.

Good luck, Ginger, if there's an alien out there (even a DVD of War of the Worlds), you're on your own.

(yes, this story is completely pointless and only mildly entertaining but if I get a DVD or bookfor my birthday that has any content remotely related to aliens, I'll kick all y'all's asses.)

Not as smart as I think I am

I'm a red head.  This means that not only do I freckle, I sunburn like crazy.  I look out the window and get a sunburn.

The weather this weekend was so stellar that I had to get out and work in the yard.  I got going and just didn't stop.  Later in the afternoon I realize that I'm feeling a little warm on my shoulders and lower back.  Yep, sunburn. Argh.

The part of my body that's the most painful is, of course, my lower back (apparently your shirt rides up when you're ass-up in a flower bed).

Paging, Aloe, Aloe, paging Aloe Vera....

Rinse and repeat

Ginger got her quarterly bath today. She was super stinky. Sebastian was great - helping rub in the bubbles, bossing Ginger around and drying her off. Loves to help and, in accordance with my "task-oriented parenting" philosophy, I encouraged him. Then I go and do something stupid. I didn't close off the dog door. Slightly damp Ginger, immediately, makes a break for it and busts through the back door into the muddy back yard. Roll, roll, roll on the grass/mud. #*%!&$! dog! Rinse, repeat.