Who Do I Think I Am??

This one's about the rain not coming earlier...

'Sup everybody? OK, so it's been a little productive around here with the dual-"3-day-weekends" going on, no lie....

HOLD UP. BREAKING NEWS:
So Jess the CWC comes down to tell me to listen for the dryer to stop, and to restart it if it does. She's drying our comforter, and she heard that if you dry it with a clean shoe, it'll fluff up more. So she said she put a sandal in there. No big deal...besides, when the iPod's in control, I probably can't hear the dryer anyway over the humidifier from the other side of the basement, so I really pay it no mind. Til I hear a crazy, loud, dull thunk and wonder what the hell's happened again upstairs. You see, the CWC's been quite the little trainwreck today, but I'll get into that in a little bit.

So before I run upstairs, I decide to check the dryer. Sure enough, that "sandal" popped it open all right. Only, this wasn't an ordinary sandal. This "megasandal" had a three inch, woven heel on it. This "megasandal" must've started from the back of the dryer and waited for the perfect moment, when there was a four inch hole clear to the front of the dryer and void of comforter, and launched itself at the door. When I got to the dryer, the door was wide open and the guilty "megasandal" was resting on the lip of the dryer opening. A "megasandal", I presume, is something worn by high-class hippies and beach prostitutes. A "megasandal" is not something that you use in place of those "As Seen On TV" dryer balls that are supposed to make your dryer more efficient, and are sold in major retailers everywhere: http://www.simplygoodstuff.com/dryer_magic-dryerballs.htm

BACK TO YOU, B:
So earlier this spring, as the snow was melting, we discovered the roof was leaking in one of the kid's bedroom. It was a bad enough leak that it managed to go all the way into the basement. It didn't really damage anything, but it did happen to be our storage room, so everything had to be moved...into my ManCave (and thus holding up the process of me finally completing it). Planned on sleeping in a little on Saturday, til the doorbell rang. Same kid came home from spending the night at his friend's house, forgot his key, woke us up, and realized that overnight, part of his ceiling collapsed. Ohhhhh SNAP. This is one reason why I'm glad we rent a house like this...let the homeowner worry about cleaning this up and fixing it. He already told us he was putting a new roof on the crib, but he hasn't been able to nail anyone down a) cuz it's been so rainy; and b) cuz a lot of other people are having roofing issues, it seems. But the landlord's assured us that this will be taken care of promptly. We'll see.

Jess was glad this happened, actually, cuz this got her out of bed and motivated to do things other than sleep...like watch all of True Blood, Season 2 on dvd. Which meant I did nothing but play Madden Superstars on Facebook and dick around the house til dinnertime. And that didn't happen til about 10pm, but only because I made (with barely any assistence at my own request, mind you) the most awesome Shredded Chicken Enchiladas in a sour cream sauce EVER!! That right there alone satisfied my intentions of productivity for the entire three day weekend. Kick a hole in the speaker, pull the plug and I jet, right? Yeah, not so much.

To my very own chagrin, I wake up and it's beautiful outside. I know what that means...gardening (The CWC likes this kinda stuff, and our house is literally surrounded on all four sides by garden-worthy areas that aren't covered by our lawn service). Let's put a manly spin on it, shall we? I was not "weeding the gardens"...no. I was disrupting the ecosystem of several thousands of insects. Yeah, that's what I'd be doing. No matter if I fashion a pretty decent breakfast sandwich out of Jimmy Dean pancake/sausage sandwiches by adding egg and cheese, cuz I already roped myself into this by volunteering to help her, so that she can see it get done the way she wants it to be. Plus, I'm not gonna let her sit around and watch tv for two straight days, and listen to her whine on the third day that nothing got accomplished.

(If you read my last entry, you'll understand why I was kinda wishing a migraine would have hit her right after breakfast.)

So finally, we get ready to clean up the outdoor furniture and start weeding the gardens. About 15 minutes into, the skies start to get gloomy, and she mentions it's supposed to rain this afternoon. Well, after a half hour of gloom, the sun won. Damn. After bending over and back, and up and down, and sitting in one position for too long while finishing about 1/4 of one side of the house, I try to get up and move to the next section, but my legs don't feel the same way. One knee locks up, the other knee gives out, and I damn near fall over. My old-ass legs took enough pounding in my youth from playing sports, and their calibration with my brain's want-to-move is very off. She looks at me as I make a bit of a pained, moaning sound, and I tell her what just happened. Then I make my way to the next bush, and sit. A lot. And pull. A lot.

Meanwhile, we've got this funky tree on the side of our house, and she's cleaning up underneath it (and I'm not an arborist or whatever they're called, but if you've been to my house or seen the pics on Facebook, you'll know what I'm talking about). All of the sudden, she starts screaming and whatnot.

Let me preface this by stating that she's wearing what was probably her favorite jeans from 1988, only she cut them into shorts. And she cut them very short. I'm not saying they look bad on her, but in the front you can almost see the pockets, and in the back they're frayed almost to the point of her ass hanging out. These are her gardening shorts, that she wears tending our gardens, at our house. On the corner of a busy street. In public view. I digress...

Screaming in pain, yeah. I turn around, and the bottom of her ass and top of her thigh are red, scratched and welted. Apparently a weed she pulled was sitting atop of no ordinary ant hill. The weed was a cover for an Al-Kaida branch of red army ants that proceeded to attack her. They got her good, too. And of course, living as two people who work in drug stores would live, we have nothing in the house first aid-like to put on it besides calomine lotion and hydrogen peroxide. So I have to stare at this ass whenever it's naked in my presence (and look away as if she were abused), or worse yet, whenever she juts it out (intentional or not) I'm supposed to resist the urge to do the right thing and give it a playful slap? My lord you filthy red ants, what is this world coming to??

Fast forward to after I gave up around an hour or so later due to knee and back pain. We shower and shop for dinner and stuff for tomorrow's festivus at her aunt and uncle's place. I throw pizza in the oven while she's making a Slush Pie. I don't cook the pizza enough and after one piece she throws it back in the oven while she's pulling the crust of her pie out. As I set my plate on the over door to grab another slice, I wind up closing the oven door with my slice still sitting on it. Meanwhile, she's grabbing the hot oven dish, causing burns on her thumb, index finger, and pinky...to the point where she's mangling band-aids while trying to put them on.

(If you're keeping score at home- and mind you, this is before the "megasandal" incident- she's up on me 2-1 now).

After dinner I come down to the basement to do my thing, and I'm greeted almost immediately by a crash. Beforehand, I had finished off her bottle of water, so I refilled it and stuck it in the fridge. As jokingly appalled as she was when she asked me to get it for her from the fridge after I'd told her it was on the counter cuz I had some, she was equally disruptive when she couldn't find it, only to learn I had killed, refilled and refridged it. That crash I heard was her getting it out of the fridge, and dropping it on the bottom shelf of the door, where we keep the salad dressings. The bottle knocked the drawer off and sent dressing bottles to the floor (and bless the fool who developed plastic bottles for this stuff, my word).

Trainwreck. But I still love her. She got her rain, and she got her thunderstorm. And awesomely, not in that order, since we had a pretty good light show going before it started raining. It'd start in the front of the house, then in back. Then from the side. Then you didn't know where it was gonna come from. Then a cop car would drive down the street with only its flashers on and it'd be comin' from errrywhere!

OH SHIT! Better check on the status of the kid's room, now that there's a 2 foot x 3 foot (I never can remember which is "foot" and which is "inch", the ' or the ") hole in his ceiling. Definitely don't need a hole in his floor now either...unless it's a portal that can take him wherever he really wants to be.

VITAL STATS:
I have done a lot of cooking this weekend. Be it finagling pre-made into homemade for breakfast or straight-up shredding chicken by hand or throwing a Tops-made pre-cooked pizza in the oven, I'm all set.

Cleared 700 last time . Maybe 800 next time.

I know I posted this, probably either in the blog prior or on Facebook, but this came on while we were coming back from Tops, and it's a fitting track for the weekend (in metaphorical ways, I suppose). And even though he knows this, it's for my boy Winkz, who couldn't come over for a little bit today. Need to catch that kid up with some stuff. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1WsIB6meP70 "My rich kids burn it; my broke people dub it....Like that? Like that, and bottle of Jim Beam." Lots of other good lines in this one...Peace to Winkler and sorry we won't be getting together this weekend, but you know I'll get you some new Atmos soon.

Guess I missed the dryer getting smacked open by "megasandals" again, and heard hell about that and a shirt that was hanging on one of my dresser knobs for days that I fussed outta my way in a big way on a day I was runnin' late and needed it out of my way to access other drawers. Oh, sorry. It was dry by then. Next time, hang it on the doorknob outside and pray it doesn't rain. Love you, sweetie!

All the rest of y'all enjoy your Memorial Day...and if you don't celebrate it, make it memorable anyway. Peace and love. GOODNIGHT NOW!