Seven.Caged.Tigers

The weekend went by in (you guessed it) a flash. Despite having three days to recover, I was still unable to get a grip on myself. I cleaned like a madwoman for a day and a half (the house is boo-ti-ful now), watched the parade that went by my house, went to the bar on Friday night in celebration of a friend’s birthday (she’s OLD now–a whole 27), and had an informal get-together last evening at our house.

I appreciated everybody coming by to see our patio. It’s nearly finished now and looks exactly like I’d pictured it in my head. It’s really rewarding when you set out to do something and accomplish your best case scenario. I’ll have to take pictures when it’s all planted and beautiful. It should add great value to our house.

Speaking of houses, it looks as if we’re to get another new neighbor. This time it’s across the street and for sale by owner for just $160k. The only thing we can figure is that they really need to get rid of the house now because they are currently paying for two loans. It’s kind of scary, especially considering the house could get at least $15k or $20k more assuming the inside is as nice and decent as the outside. It was built around 1870 (ours is the baby of the neighborhood being built around 1900) and is a lovely 3-bedroom. Anybody in the market?

In any case, yeah, I’m back at work. Work makes me feel blah.

Found at revelling.org:

(more…)

The sky looks bluer, the temperature seems warmer, the air smells sweeter–suddenly, momentarily life is looking up. Not all the way to the sun, of course, but those things which seem all to dark and troubling are peeling away.

I am being vague, I realize. However it’s best this way. Suffice it to say that I’m still rather, well, depressed just not so much as I was two days ago. How can I not smile–it’s summer and it is beautiful.

Life is still surreal and chaotic but the pieces are starting to line up to form some sort of sensical puzzle.

I am not a soldier for many reasons, not the least of which that I’m not physically up to their standards. Of course there is also my incredible need for self-preservation. I’m selfish like that, but I understand why people go into the military and why they support their country. It is a good, strong, brave thing to do. I however also feel for those same people right now–to be in Iraq and to be fighting for their lives.

G-Town is a small, small place. It’s where I was born and raised among the cows, lakes, and Amish there are some good people I suppose. I don’t like to think about it much because I get a bit weepy for home. Funny that–I hated it when I was there but now as an adult can see the good parts of it also. Sure diversity doesn’t exist, art is something to be made fun of, and fashion consists of Carhartt’s and shit kickers but it’s also a place where you can literally play in the streets on Sunday without fear of being run over. I feel fortunate to have grown up that way. I am still I small town girl despite my big-town yuppie exterior and address.

In any case, JT calls me this morning with a story he heard on the radio (WRIF–go Detroit!) about two soldiers killed in Iraq. One, he said, was from G-Town. He didn’t remember the kid’s name, but that sent me immediately to the Free Press where I learned his name and that it happened in a convoy on Friday. A road-side bomb or something… I didn’t know him as he was in Elementary school when I graduated, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t understand the impact that something like this can have on a very small community. It’s devastating.

From what I’ve read, he spent most all of April at home with his family, wife, daughter, etc. He was apparently very reluctant to go back to Iraq for reasons which now seem all that more important. He can’t have known he’d die a month later, but having come from that environment one can only expect that these young soldiers learn that death is definitely a possibility. I don’t remember anybody from G-Town dying at war before. I don’t think anybody from my town has died in that way since Vietnam. A press conference was held at the local newspaper, my old principal even issued a press release. It truly is surreal.

I am definitely a peace-nik. I’m anti-war, and specifically anti-THIS WAR. However, for just a moment I feel myself stepping aside and putting my hand to my forehead in a salute.

Yesterday began my “summer hours” which basically amount to a shift in half an hour. It’s something I worked out a few years ago, and considering I do not answer phones or help students it works nicely. Getting out at 4:30pm means a world of difference as far as traffic goes. Plus, yesterday is the one day a year I can wear jeans to work. It was truly lovely. Too bad the day was meant for massive cleaning up around the office.

So I got home early. My husband’s bum is firmly planted on the couch and he’s engrossed in the Deadwood season finale. Yes, he loves that show. It’s fine as far as I’m concerned, but I find it to be somewhat dry. Kind of like how I never really have enjoyed Sopranos. In any case, he finished up the show and then exclaims that he’s TiVo-ed something that I just HAVE TO SEE. I blink, and there’s Oprah and Tom Cruise. Apparently when he got home and turned on the TV the channel was on and Tommy boy was jumping on the couch over how much in love he is. It was supposed to be a pimpage of War of the Worlds (not that the movie needs any extra pimping), but over half of the show was dedicated to him saying over and over again how much he is in love with Katie Holmes. It was truly nauseating. He looked like a freakin’ madman.

At the end of it all, she was dragged on stage kicking and screaming. He’s a little elf compared to her. I know she’s like 5′9″ and he’s like 5′6″ and that was CLEAR on Oprah. I couldn’t watch it all, but the beauty of TiVo is that I could fast forward through the most hurl-worthy bits. I’m certain that Tom just wants droopy-eyed kids.

I can usually watch anything–two-headed kids, 84-lb babies, and America’s Next Top Model to name a few. However, after finally growing the balls I couldn’t enjoy Chaotic. That is, if you recall, the Britney Spears & Kevin (whatever the stupid, greazy guy she married’s last name is). It was ridiculous, annoying, and overall pretty useless. I really dont’ care WHAT Kevin thinks of commitment (he was married and expecting a child only a few months ago when he met Britney). I don’t care about her fascination with sexual positions nor do I understand what it is about her that people are fascinated with. But I still TiVo’ed the first episode just in case it was interesting. I got through the first 20 minutes or so before hurling on myself and requesting JT to hit fast-forward.

Talk about a STOOPID show. It makes The Simple Like look like high art. The fact is that Britney doesn’t seem to understand that her audience is by and large pre-adolescent girlies. She swears like a sailer, wears slut-clothes, and talking incessantly about sex. This may be interesting to some folks, but to me it just shows how fleeting her celebrity will be once these little girlies and their (hopefully intersted) mothers catch on. Gawd, Chaotic was offensive in every way imaginable. The fact that JT and I sat down to actually watch it is truly horrific.

Britney Spears? I think it’s time she threw in the towel. Yeah. I’m sure it’s well past that time.

Last night the power went out around 4:45pm. It stayed off for over two hours. Of course since the BIG power outage of 2003 such things may seem trivial, but at the same time I still get excited over these matters. It’s as if I’m an elementary student and the lack of power may result in no school. Or something. I dunno. In any case, JT and I had to eat a Big Boy. It was fine, but I much prefer a slightly less chaotic atmosphere. Screaming kids, staring old people, and loitering teens are not my idea of a great time.

And then I realized it was ANTM night. I hoped, prayed (and as ya’ll know I’m not a religious person), crossed my fingers that the power would restore before 8pm rolled around. I couldn’t miss the finale of the fourth season of ANTM! Gosh! That would be a real travesty. Fortunately it came back around 7pm and all was well in my miniscule world.

Of course, the show was down to three. There was the snotty, weird jaw girl Keenyah. There was the downhome, bashful girl Kahlen. There was the Detroit native and somewhat emotionally stifled Naima. I personally was rooting for Kahlen, but I still had some interest in Naima. I mean, Detroit folks (and Michigan folks in general) never make it far on reality television. Remember Michael Skupin on Survivor 2? You know–the one that fell in the fire and had to be helicoptered out, well he’s from White Lake in Metro Detroit and just a few miles from my home. Oh yes, and Bachelor Bob Guiney was also from the Detroit area (Ferndale, aka Fashionable Ferndale). I can’t help but root on the underdog.

So anyway, the trials of last night were as expected. The first competition and elimination centered on a Cover Girl commercial and print ad. Tyra had nothing but good to say about her three little proteges. Even Keenyah, with her obtrustive shoulder and fakeness garnered acclaim. Somehow Tyra failed to notice that Keenyah wasn’t going to make an effort to lose the weight (not that she is fat, but at somewhere over 140lbs at 5′11″ she isn’t exactly model size). Kahlen looked quirky and odd and very uncomfortable in her commercial. Her picture turned out lovely though. Naima worked her tail off and despite the fact that the people at Cover Girl peeled her forehead mole off in photoshopping she still looked lovely.

First elimination? Buh-bye Keenyah. Hasta la vista. Sayanora.

The next big thing was a runway show. It was lovely to see them strut their stuff (as un-curved and adolescent boy-like as it is) on a real runway. Kahlen looked great–I thought for sure after that she would win. Heck, if you saw the show she got stuck with an incredibly revealing swimsuit. I couldn’t believe they didn’t blur her crotch. Naima did well also, but she didn’t “own” as Tyra over and over again stated.

In the end, it was Naima who won over Kahlen. No big shocker there I suppose. I can’t complain about a victorious Michigan ANTM.

So, when is Season 5 starting?

First of all, I want to say thank you for “Andy” who offered up a bevy of shemale beauties for my enjoyment. I appreciate the comments, though don’t think they were particularly on-topic. Uh, yeah….

The weekend went by quickly. It seems that each weekend goes by faster and faster. I guess it’s part of growing older. I’m 28 years old and I’m already suffering from the speeding-by-days syndrome. I spent the weekend doing some yard work, house work, and Saturday night shopping. Oh yes…outlet shopping. I love outlet shopping. I managed to buy two Fossil watches (2 for $40!!!), a few shirts, a pair of shorts, and the perfume Amor Amor by Cacharel. I can’t help myself when it comes to perfume. I love the stuff. Plus, this smell lovely–a mix of floral and citrus. Very rare and unique indeed! The whole shopping things whipped me though and resulted in a very lazy Sunday chock full of naps and movie watching (and some cleaning and laundry). What a lovely live I lead.

Watches: (I bought the red one and a green one–the brown one in the pic is actually dark green)

It’s Christmas time…in May! Working for a University has few perks. Very few to be precise…

So when a company like HP says it wants to make a donation and asks what we want, we suggested two things–a fax machine and a digital camera. They wrote back and said that both of those were on the way with a little extra. Well, today an entire cart of stuff arrived. On it were two digital cameras (one kind of crappy, one pretty decent), a fax machine, a large-ish photo printer, and a color laser printer. A few *extras* indeed!

I have now dubbed May 13th as the official Spring X-Mas. It’s nerd paradise opening all those boxes of goodies. It’s too bad that I’m not a fan of their cameras–AA batteries? Comes on. That’s pitifully OLD news, people. Their printers on the other hand are ace. Not that we needed two color laser printers around (we’ve got 8 staff and a total of 5, now 6, laser printers of which two are color). Eh. Oh well. We just look rich and pimp now.

I had this big, lovely post written up about how Keenyah got kicked off of ANTM. I just figured she was a lock and was surprised when last night Brittany got kicked to the curb. Strangely enough it was she and Naima who were in the bottom two despite turning out the best pictures of the day. It is clear that either these things are basically outlined prior to filming or that Tyra plays MAJOR favorites. Keenyah is not beautiful, not vaguely shaped like a model, and has something of a rotten attitude. Brittany looks like a model all the way and has consistently turned out top-notch (sometimes porno looking) photos.

And then there is Keenyah’s awful attitude. Seriously. They were in the prison where Nelson Mandela lived for decades and she clearly didn’t know who he was or whether he was alive or dead. Naima did, and also being a black girl was quick to use the key that opened his cell. Keenyah was rather unhappy about it and went on a tyrade how she was the black girl and how this was important to HER. Um. What about Naima?

In any case, I still think Kahlen will win. I want to see my home girl Naima stay in the mix (the only girl from Michigan on the show EVER), but I think the sweet little blonde will take it home. Keenyah should be going home first on next week’s finale. In honor of Brittany, I give to you her most excellent and most embarrassing photos:

BEST:

Episode 4:

Episode 7:

Episode 9:

WORST:

Episode 8:

Episode 6:

I really, honestly hate to tell cat stories but I have to. You all have met/seen Dewey. He’s a good kitty with a sweet personality and an insatiable need for attention (when he’s awake, which isn’t too often). He sleeps a lot, eats a lot, and beats up on Sara and Max a lot. But he also loves a lot.

Jeremy and I were working on the patio (which is looking lovely, BTW) last night. He was sitting by the door just begging to be let out. Of course they are inside cats but since he doesn’t really run (or can’t) he’s easy to watch. I let him outside while JT was gathering more patio bricks and was following him around as he rolled over and over again in our nasty black, sandy dirt. He has a lot of thick fur and is almost completely white on his legs, neck, chest and belly. It came as no shock that when I picked him up his white had turned to grey. Talk about a nasty, dirty cat. He was still grubby this mornings also though you could distinctly see white patches where he’d vaguely cleaned himself.

In lieu of Dewey’s (aka Jabba) outside adventure I give you a portrait of a 21lb cat. He loves you…he really, really does.

My body aches from the thousands of pounds (not really an exaggeration) of patio stone JT and I lifted and set on Saturday. We got a 10×15 or so area done thus far. It’s beautiful and wonderful and considering the aching in my thighs, forearms, butt, and back I should think it would be a masterpiece. Fortunately with our system it seems to go pretty fast. Just give us another two weeks and it will be done and beautiful. It really is nice to get the result out of a project that you’d hoped for.

Now…if only I could get JT to consider a patio set. We’re going to get one (sans cushions–you have to wash cushions) along with a chaise, small table, two sidechairs, and a small outside fire thingie if I get my way. Oh…and I will…

Patio Pictures:

I honestly have nothing to note to say. This week has been long–taking the horrible medication that makes me have the most rotten problems (vague, I know, but it’s still true), not sleeping well, waiting for $2000 worth of (PAID) patio brick to be delivered from Home Depot (we’re now at four days late), and just generally being in a dour mood.

Fortunately reality TV (ANTM, Survivor) has been keeping me somewhat entertained. I’m still of a mind to be slightly embarassed at my viewing choices but that doesn’t stop the fact that ANTM in particular is one of the most entertaining thigs on television today as far as I’m conserned.

Oh yes. I took to calling Dewey (our cat) Jabba. Jabba seems rather appropriate as he props his stubby little 21-lb body up to clean his bits. I told JT we just have to put a collar on Sara (with attached chain, of course) and place the chain in his paw. Classic picture, I’m telling you…

Update: I now have a peanut butter scone in hand. That will certainly make me day better.

Update #2: Cliff Yablonski is back!!!!! If you don’t know Cliff, check out his most excellent works here.

Sometimes my clumsiness surprises even me. I’ve spent my lifetime being rather tall and lanky. It seems as though I’ve never quite figured out how to use my limbs.

My hands flail and thwap against the walls resulting in wounds on my knuckles. I run into random pieces of furniture that have existed in the same location for years. I ram my knees into car frames, run my head into walls, and do a variety of painful things to my body. Still there are things I do that will always come as a surprise.

Today, JT and I went to Lucky Kitchen (a yummy Chinese restaurant in Ann Arbor) for lunch. On our way out the door, I found myself entranced by this stupid driver in a mini van unable to backout of their space. I couldn’t figure it out for the life of me. Even worse? They were so close to running over the curb they honked at somebody on the sidewalk to warn them to get out of the way.

So as this was all unfolding, I was still walking forward. I managed to run directly into a handicapped parking sign. It’s the kind with the big cement base. I hit my head and both of my knees into the pole before it registered that I should probably stop. I felt like a jackass. Not that any of this is new of course. Anyway, JT looked at me and said “how’d you manage that?” I retorted something like “you can’t be surprised.” He wasn’t.

For today I’m officially known as clumsy, anemic Shelly with the big ass bruises on her knees.

JT and I saw Velvet Revolver last night. Of course Hoobastank was there also, but very little of the crowd got much out of them. Strangely enough, Hoobastank was taping the show for what could only be a DVD or video. Hmph. Detroit doesn’t like them. No big shocker there.

Back to Velvet Revolver. Needless to say Scott Weiland is still a magnificent performer. When backed by Slash and Duff and the like he’s even stronger. It’s like they took STP and multiplied the bigness of the sound by three or four. They played a whole bunch of VR songs in addition to one Guns track (Mr. Brownstone), three STP tracks (Down, Sex Type Thing, and Crackerman). However the big treat was the band letting loose on the beautiful Wish You Were here by Pink Floyd. I’ d have loved to hear Surrender (Cheap Trick) but considering how fortunate Detroit was to get Wish You Were Here I’m not one to complain.

The show was loud, great, and fun–our seats were decent so I’m not one to complain about that either. At the end of Sex Type Thing, Weiland jumped off the stage, ran around the edge of the crowd to the back of the Palace and went up to the middle of the lower bowl and sang the remainder of the song. He was literally two small sections away from me. I wish I’d have had those tickets. Yes. I’m a fangirl and have been for 12 or 13 years.

Yesterday also saw the installation of a french door in my house. It replaces a crappy doorwall with a broken seal and that leaked ever so slightly during the annual thaw and big rainstorms. I’m excited to see it all finished. I’m also thinking I’m not going to put any valance back up. I’m painting the whole room a medium tan called Brown Bag and will likely leave the trim white. I’m going to put up this lovely, fancy, thick decorative trim around the window instead of the ugly valance and ugly curtain rod. I’m a decorator at heart, can you tell?