Yeah... so... I was reading in bed last night. Poohbare is working 3-11s and doesn't get home til around 11:30 p.m. He walked in, asked "What are you still doing up?" No answer. "Honey?" No answer. "Ok, are you just fuckin with me?" Waits for me to start grinning... no grin/no answer. Looks closer and realizes I'm sound asleep while holding the book.

He puts his stuff away, washes up, climbs into bed, watches tv for a while. He reports that it was at least an hour before the book fell out of my hand.

Before it did, he took a picture just so he could giggle when he told me about this in the morning. Asshat.

Yeah....so...I woke up at 4 a.m. and decided to putter around in the kitchen. Poohbare was planning to get up at 5 anyway and head out-of-state to see his granddaughter this weekend. He hit the road around 6 and shortly after that I was washing up the mixing bowls, etc. and noticed the sink drain was running pretty slow. No problem. I grabbed the plunger. Didn't work. hmmmmm. Went out the garage and grabbed the drain snake. Didn't work. hmmmm. Went out to the garage and grabbed the pipe wrench and the channel locks. Took off the trap. It's not the problem. hmmmm.

So... I'm sitting on the floor staring at the pipes and pondering. I notice there's a trickle of water running down the right side. Look closer and the tighteny-uppy-roundy-thingy is cracked. I figure that thing prolly shouldn't be cracked. I call Poohbare and confirm this. After extensive explanation of what the hell I'm talking about (which, I might add was competely obvious), he referred to the tighteny-uppy-roundy-thingy as a "nut" (but we all know he's not good with technical terms).

So... I disassemble the pipes under both sinks, unhook the dishwasher drain hose, and have this whole assembly in my lap and can't get "this" part separated from "that" part. But I NEED them separated. Or do I? Nope. I don't. I head over to the hardware store and when my helpful hardware man asks if I need assistance, I hold it up and say "I need one of these." He blinks a few times and finds what I need and I skip merrily out of the store feeling all skillful and plumbery and stuff.

So... I get home, and read the instructions. (Yes, there are instructions and they are useful.) I get everything put back together, but the drain is still running slow, so I take it all off again and snake the drain again. It's gross, but still no findable clogs. Put everything back together again and test the connections and DAMMIT there's now a pinhole in the elbow that connects the wall pipe to the trap. I try to get it off, but it's been on for 40 years and is stuck tight. Fine. I give up. I call four plumbers. I get four answering machines. I leave four messages.

Then I get mad. How DARE that drain tell me "no"! The nerve! So I get online and do some research, head back over to the hardware store where my helpful hardware man sees me and says "Uh-oh. Didn't it work?" Yes, but now I need epoxy. "Epoxy or putty?" Epoxy! The stuff worked like a charm, btw.

So... end result is the drain is running clear, the pipes aren't leaking, and only minor injuries from two blisters and the one time I bonked myself in the nose when the pipe wrench slipped, but it didn't cause a nose bleed so it prolly doesn't even count.

Yeah...so...Poohbare had a hankerin for Oreo cookies. We hop in the car, zip over to the store, and he goes in while I stay in the getaway car with the motor runnin.

The store, like many, has double doors with a sorta vestibule in between. I think I see Poohbare passing between the two doors on his way out and I pull to the front of the store, but the guy that leaves is pushing a cart and on closer look, clearly isn't Poohbare.

So... I pull forward slowly, looking through the store's big front windows trying to see which checkout line Poohbare is in. I creep forward a few feet at a time... looking... looking...

Then I catch a glimpse of something/someone in the rear view mirror. There's Poohbare. Standing in back of the car. Glaring.

oops. lol

Yeah...so...yesterday we went to the hardware store to get the last few odds and ends to put up a tile backsplash in the kitchen. Grout... check. Adhesive... check. Tile scorer/snapper... check.

Poohbare: I think we've got everything.

Me: No. No. We still need one of those comb thingies.

Poohbare: Comb thingies?

Me: Yeah, the comb thingy. For the adhesive.

Poohbare: *blank stare*

Me: *frustrated sigh* You know. Those COMB thingies! You spread on the adhesive then use the comb side to make the lines. I saw them do it on tv.

Poohbare: *blink blink* Trowel. It's called a trowel.

Me: It makes comb marks, right?

Poohbare: Well... yeah.

Me: Your point?

Poohbare: I guess I don't have one. But I think I saw a "comb thingy" in the garage.

He just ran back to the store. Apparently we don't have a comb thingy after all. PLUS he now calls it a comb thingy. I win.

Yeah...so... I'm flipping thru channels and see "Fantastic Voyage" is on. Oh yeah, baby! 1966 high tech si-fi/suspense at it's finest!

For those of you who have not seen this gem, it's about a ship o' scientists that get shrunken down and inserted in a dude's body so they can cure a brain tumor. As great as this already sounds, IT GETS BETTER!

Inside the ship, they're using hand drawn maps that look like they are on transparencies for an overhead projector. (If you don't know what an overhead projector is, you're too young and should stop reading this now... or go wiki it). BUT WAIT! THERE'S MORE!

Back in the Operating Room, they have this gigantic map of the circulatory system and one guy's job is to move a plastic disc to wherever the new location of the ship is inside the patient's body once they are notified of the location by Morse code and the lil light on a map from the tracking signal.

So, to recap, they have the technology to shrink a ship down to the cellular level, but still use Morse code and manually move a disc around on a giant map.

This is way more fun than being at the stores this morning.

Yeah...so... I get a text from an Indianapolis phone number and text back "I think you texted the wrong number."

Then I get a phone call from that same number and a woman DEMANDS to know who I am. "Uh... not the person you're calling. I think you have the wrong number."

Then I get a second call from the woman who states this is the number her friend gave her. "Well, they must have given you the wrong one." To which she responds, "Fuck you, bitch!" and hangs up.

Well, you know me. I have a skewed idea of fun. So... I called the number back and she wisely let it go to voice mail and I kinda went all kinds of apeshit about how she's got the fuckin balls to get bitchy with ME when I sent a nice text, spoke to her nicely, and then SHE has the nerve to call ME a bitch? Well, either her friend is too stupid to give her the right number or she's too fuckin stupid to dial it correctly... um ... amongst other comments about her intelligence, bad manners, and all around poor lineage.

Poohbare got all giddy and said "Yeah! Go for it baby!" Damn that felt good.

And a Happy Thanksgiving to you, too. heeheehee

So... let's see... in the last two days Herbie fell in the toilet, mom left her car running in the closed garage when she came into the house...girlspawn noticed, opened the doors and shut off the car...my boss asked me to make a mental note to keep May 2014 clear on her calendar (cuz ..uh..I'll still be working there?)...and there's a veritable smorgasbord of teenagers (ok, 3, but they SOUND like a lot) downstairs spending the night.

I seriously need alcohol!

*yawn*
tired. bed. g'night.
xoxo

The girlspawn let out quite a loud yelp yesterday morning on her way out the door for school. Seems Herbie was on top of a china cabinet just above her eye level and decided to smack her upside the head as she passed.
HA!

Apparently my boss has a bit of a reputation for being.. uh... let's go with "difficult" to work for. The secretary that was supposed to start last Tuesday never showed and never contacted us. The new secretary that was supposed to start yesterday never showed and never contacted us. The secretary that interviewed today mentioned she's not available til January. Boss said the job won't wait that long for her.

Poohbare made a good point. While the job may not WAIT for her til then, it'll probably be AVAILABLE again by then. He's right. I figure we'll have hired one or two more people between now and January who will promptly run screaming from the insanity.

It ain't even my fault they flee. Weird.