So today on the radio (regular local music station not npr) they were discussing how scientists now belive that cows automatically face north. So they had callers calling in talking about which way cows were facing.
So really there are a couple of morons out there that like to track cows.
and then a couple of morons who call into the radio to tell them which ways cows are pointing as they see them on the various patches of farmland scattered on the outskirts of the metro area....
I should have been listening to npr.
Tonight I had a cribbage game with Mike planned. We meet at the same dunns brothers -- and we always play a couple games, talk about life and crap and it's good fun.
Well today, I've had a headache most of the day and my ears hurt from my sinuses hurting - but I took an advil earlier this afternoon (I rarely take OTC drugs cause I'm a freak and don't like to take them).
It must have been a combination of things, my headache, my allergies, my hunger pains - jamba juice is good but can't sustain a person all day, but mostly I just wanted to wear sweatpants and have soft kleenex to blow my nose and eat something.
It was a hunger I couldn't explain -- like if I didn't eat within the next 5 minutes I was almost certain I would perish. I did'nt perrish. I came home got in my sweat pants and made some dinner. Still have the headache and lots of sneezyness.
But now I feel bad about only playing one game -- and that I won so Mike couldn't even try to win round two. I feel bad that he had an offer for dinner with his mom and passed it up to play a game with me and then I bail cause I didn't eat my 3 oclock snack.
So I'm sorry Mike, I don't mean to be a crappy friend an I'm sorry I'm so yawny and lame on the weekend nights we play.
Something has happened. Okay yes, I've gained 10 pounds/2.50 pant sizes for every extension I've had at XYZ Company. (That'd be 4 extension changes in 3 years, this math isn't complicated, it's sad.) But on the brighter side of things -- I have a new found appreciation for sweat pants.
But that's not the news either. When I started at XYZ I had finally grew out the permed cherub look I annointed myself with in college. I had cute hair and I'm not sure what exactly possessed me to chop it off into a pixie cut that - inadvertantly did not allow me to wear polo shirts (a business causual office attire staple, since we are required to either wear a collar or a sweater - both is an option since I freeze to death in the ice-cubical.) without looking like a teenage boy wearing his sister's bra with some exoctic fruit in the cups. I also started growing back my eyebrows -- a whole other story, that is slightly medically related to my teeter totter thyroid issues.
Ok so I chopped my hair. Gained some weight plus some more. Grew my eyebrows back. Got rid of the braces and ta-da have successfully grownout my hair -- so now I can curl it in cute curls - not frizzy cherub perm curls and I'm half an inch away from sporting the coveted pony tail. ( I would post a picture -- but I have ruined my usb ports and {am currently shopping but indescisive on a new computer since this one is aboue to die} they now no longer talk to my camera. But now I can at least be girly -- but this is not the news... the most unexpected thing has happened.
I started wearing make-up on a daily basis. Not a lot, since I didn't want to go from plain normal just clean and nothing super spectacular face to whamo pizzamo - drag queen try-out make up face. So, yes, I now have to put my face on in the morning. But you know what, it does wonders for hiding any sort of mild depression I might have. Don't fret, I'm really fine -- I just have more crappy days than I used to, BD. (Before Dad) And I'm not a wallower so maybe this new beauty time in the morning just makes me feel more put together that I sometimes feel in the morning or on the inside.
So when my dad was alive he was constantly popping from window to window to see the wildlife frolicking in the back yard. We made fun of him for this - in the nicest way possible. Once in awhile he'd have to shoot at something like a woodchuck.
I'm in the north metro area, not quite suburbs, not quite country. We have neighbors and traffic signs but the nearest stop light is a couple miles away. People shoot things out here, it's somewhat normal.
So anyways his window popping is now my mother's new hobby. She bought some bird feeders and a bird bath and wants binoculars for christmas --
Well, it's great,she has a hobby. She hasn't wanted to do much with her garden this year but this way she can watch the birds. Then call to me and my brother to come and see.
The critter patrol: We get deer, bunnies, squirrels, the neighbors dog and cat in our yard. All will vanish once spotted except for the squirrels.
The birds: My mom is so excited about the cardinals and blue birds, and finches and orioles, the woodpeckers and all the other pretty birds that some how she fails to recognize that the 400 black birds in the yard is quite disgusting.
No I am not exaggerating. I thought I was in a Hitchcock film - when I'm just sitting here in the kitchen.
My cats get jelouse when she goes outside to fill the feeders.
The squirrels have some how managed to figure out how to get the food from the squirrel proof feaders and this makes my mother mad.
So she will scream out the window - instructing the squirrels in a stern voice to get out and get down.
Then the other night - we had a cricket outside the kitchen window, chriping away as crickets do. My cat was going ape shit wanting to kill the shrill sound and my mother - sternly yell'd out the window to stop chirping. The cricket however did not respond.
This behavior has been repeated over and over -- I got up - sick of my mom and now my brother yelling out the window like morons at an insect that doesn't even have an acorn for a brain. I simply shut the window and then there was silence. No more chirrping annoying cricket.
