Grumpies

I know this is something dumb to blog about. Seriously, I haven’t posted in like a week and I really should do this more often. The blogging, and writing, not having the grumpies.

Ok, so the grumpies are just that. I’m grumpy, restless, I don’t know whats going on. Maybe its because my migraines have actually been worse than usual (what? right). Ok, I’m writing like I talk sometimes, which is just not good. And I say seriously all the time.

So (I say that tons too) I was thinking of taking a xanax because of my grumpies. But, it makes me sleepy, which is not good, cause I feel blah already. Then, I shouldn’t take my xanax for anything other than panic attacks… and rage. Ok, its really for the panic attacks, but I have serious heavy duty rage issues. I should totally talk about that sometime. Actually, here.

So there are some things in my family I think are hereditary that are probably not, but all of us, or the majority of us, totally do it.

  1. Rage- serious, attack your car with a baseball bat, throw my laptop across the room and accidentally hit your foot with it rage. Ok, that was a remote. I wouldn’t throw my laptop, I’m way too poor. I do slam it around a lot and call it a douche face though.
  2. Mornings- none of us can get up before like, 11am, if you’re lucky. Its just not possible. And when we do its not good. I can do things, but I’m not actually awake until 1pm. I was in trouble my whole senior year for this. Partially my fault, partially my aunts.
  3. Work ethic- totally sucks. None of us are good at working, or like to work. I know most people don’t like to work, but this is like “I’d rather be evicted than keep this dumb fucking job. I’m going back to bed.”

Ok so thats all. I’m watching a dumb movie that is funny, and somehow that annoys me. I don’t like comedies or romantic comedies that are funny but just…. easy and stuff. Like my brain doesn’t have to think to process this movie. Its uh…. Friends with Benefits. I’m so lazy, I’m not spell checking this shit, or linking anything.

 

This is my dog Echo, she’s impersonating me in the morning

PS: I hate having to pretend I like kids. I seriously want a cookie every time I’m nice to a kid.

PPS: I might actually be published in something. I’m not sure if it will be a printed book or just an e book. It would be awesome. I think.

I am not a plumber

I need to remind myself this. Actually, it doesn’t matter. I would still try. I’ve tried several times.

The Great Bathroom Sink Debacle of 2011

There was the Great Toilet Debacle of 2009, the Bathroom Sink Debacle of 2009, the Bathroom Sink Debacle of 2011, and now, we have the Kitchen Sink Debacle of 2012.

 

I will say, this time I was prepared. It is not entirely my fault. Unlike previous times, I collected several wrenches, WD-40, a rubber mallet, a hammer, a flathead screwdriver, protective eyewear, protective nose-mouth mask, towels, and a bucket all ahead of time.

Our kitchen faucet had somehow eroded in the middle of the faucet, and was a little sprinkler of water whenever we turned it on. Knowing it would be difficult to get the screws undone, my girlfriend sprayed the screws on it weeks in advance. She also said she would get around to it, but weeks passed, and she didn’t.

I was feeling pretty good that day, and decided I would make a fabulous surprise and change out the faucet. So when she came home, she would have an easier time doing the dishes. I know, you’re thinking I should have done some dishes. No thank you, I hate dishes, and the sprinkler hole was grating my nerves.

We had bought the faucet, and it sat patiently on our kitchen table, in its box, waiting to be installed. I opened it, assembled it, even read the instructions.

Step one involved turning off the water. Now, I didn’t want to turn off the water to the whole house, so I went under the sink. The cold water valve turned off just fine. However, the hot water valve seemed to be missing something: a knob. It had just a little stripped stub where the knob should be. Well then, I guess I will just turn off the main water line. I located that, pulled up the million pound cover, and found a giant pile of dirt. I dug through it, but could not find the valve.

I resigned to just use a wrench type thing to turn the hot water valve off. This took some time. I carefully turned it over and over, then checked the hose, loosening it just a little to see if it was still spraying water. I did this for about a half hour. Finally, finally the hose was quiet, no water! I proceeded and unscrewed it not from the valve, but from the faucet.

I was deceived. Water began spraying everywhere from the now firehose strength water hose. I filled my prepared bucket, but knew I could not possibly get the water turned off without drowning in the process. I screamed for our roommate, who came out and was I think shocked. I screamed at her with several vulgar words to dig up the goddamn main valve and shut it off. She returned, but only after locking herself out first. She also couldn’t get it to turn.

I headed out with another giant wrench, forcing her to man the wild spraying sink hose. After using all my muscles, completely drenched, in near darkness, I shut it off.

At this point, our kitchen was at least 6 inches full of water. All the bottom cabinets were flooded. Also, we had mice, and their little mouse poops were everywhere. We are thankful we don’t have hantavirus because of this.

There was also a frantic phone call to my girlfriend to “get the fuck home, I’m flooding the fucking kitchen”. I’m lucky my phone didn’t get water damage.

Sadly, after all this we still had to make several Home Depot trips to get connectors to connect the new fancy smaller hoses to the larger older valves. This involved dealing with either morons who didn’t know anything about plumbing, or condescending men who thought we were morons attempting “mens work”.

You may be asking, where are the pictures of this hilarious crisis? Well, as our roommate vacuum mopped up the water and I took some xanax, I thought about it. It was too late, most of the water was gone.

I learned an important lesson about myself though. I may not be the most useful in a crisis, but at least I’m not one of those asshats standing there taking pictures instead of helping.

Randomy randomness

I have no actual paragraphs of interestingness to say, so I’ll just say whatever has stomped through my brain the past few days.

never enough zombie killing

Saw Resident Evil: Retribution. There were no zombie dogs this time. Were we unable to get past the fact that it’s still a dog, so we’re a little sad when they die? Or were we just tired of the zombie dogs, and needed something new? What about zombie dinosaurs? Oh wait, that’s not believable.

 

 

 

I still don’t understand the drool about an iphone. Don’t explain it to me, I won’t understand. And don’t ever say a single thing about how much I spend on shoes if you own an iphone. 

I wonder if any of my medications are making me dumber. I seem to have more trouble spelling, speaking, and putting together logical sentences. It’s also possible that its due to old age, I did just turn 32.

My body actually feels tired after a migraine finally goes away. I call it my migraine hangover. I would google to see if other people get this, but I also don’t care.

Someone’s Us magazine got put in our mail box. I read it. No, I tried to read it. I looked at some of the pictures. I realized I didn’t know who most of the people were. I realized I didn’t care. I also think gossip magazines are tacky and have a general distaste for paparazzi. Maybe I’m a snob.

I do not have Buffy/Angel/Firefly rewatches. They are on a consistent loop. I did not include Dollhouse, haven’t really welcomed it into the fold yet. It’s all the implied rapeyness, I can’t handle that much rapey rapeyness.

All hail the whedonyness

I like the other blogs I read that show other people unable to function as adults. They make me feel better about my inability to function as an adult.

I’m reading The Courtesan’s Revenge. I had to look up what Black Pudding is. What the hell is wrong with people.

I got a couple new bras, and as most women with large breasts, I only go through this torture as needed. There is no “fun bra shopping” on my planet. I had to get resized. I’m a 44F. I don’t care about the 44, but F?? Seriously?

finally someone understands these things are all not fun and games

I almost accidentally killed myself on my birthday. I always put together a migraine cocktail before I leave the house, one dose, all one bottle, about 10 pills total. I keep the xanax in its own bottle. I wasn’t looking, it was nearly dark because of a movie about to start. It’s a good thing I actually looked down just before I tossed them in my mouth. Can 10 2mg xanax kill you?