Almost.

You see, I have a beef with this guy:

Apparently I can sleep through just about anything. Trains, cars, sirens, horns honking. I am a sound sleeper.  But the wayward chickens that our neighbor just allows to roam about wake me at 4:30 or 5:00 every day now. EVERY STINKIN DAY.

No one told them about daylight savings time either. It is slowly driving me insane because, folks, I like to sleep. Can sleeping be a hobby? I love that delicious little 10 minutes every morning after I hit “snooze.” Sometimes I like it so much, I do it 3 times.

I’ve never killed anything before, but this guy has it coming. I rolled over the other day and asked Jeff where the gun was. Not that I could actually hit anything I shot at, not that shooting something is even an option for me, but I have rooster murder on the brain lately.

I hear grilled rooster is tasty.

I’m the worst “country girl” ever.

Okay. So because that is all I have to say about that, I will continue broadcasting with some very interesting information that you may not have known about my cat.

This is Daisy Fuentes.

She is our cat and she only speaks Spanish, which can be difficult sometimes when things get lost in translation. Like “Daisy, per favor, please don’t sleep on the counter.”  She misunderstands.  She was a barn kitty. Jeff found her- she had to be fed with a little eyedropper and she used to look like this:

Let me be clear, we were NOT SUPPOSED TO KEEP HER. But somewhere along the way, I lost control of the situation- as I am sometimes prone to do- and she stayed. Now she is sorta funny lookin’ now so we have to keep her. Good thing we have a bigger house.  She also likes to do stuff like this:

Weird cat. She doesn’t like to be held or for you to pet her. She pets herself. Simply leave your hand or foot still and she does things the way she likes to when it is totally her idea, she doesn’t like to be told what to do.  Sound familiar? I don’t know anyone like that at all.

So that is the story of Daisy Fuentes. How she came into our lives, stuck around, caused some trouble and inspired us to brush up on our espanol.

I’m sooooo sorry Moo-nanners.

Then I noticed my dress was a print, orange on white.

Something is weird today.

Bet on “orange” today if you can.  I wonder if there is some cosmic number for lottery using the numbers that make up the word “orange”. Hmmm. I’ve got two sets of numbers I’m playing today (up to $110 million folks!)

Well, anyways, I said to Jerry, “Jerry, you seem a bit down. Is there something bothering you?”

Jerry says, “You know, all this rain is just getting to me. Chilling me to the very center of my being.” (Jerry is very, very deep.)

I say, “I  know, the rain really sucks and I really wish it would stop. I saw these earthworms flailing on the pavement today and it realy grossed me out and made me feel so sorry for them.” (I tend to babble when I’m around Jerry or anyone else for that matter.) “I hate to see you so depressed, is there anything I can do?”

Jerry says, “Well, I would like to see the world!”

I got excited because, I, happened to be able to oblige immediately.

“Seeeeee my world, Jerry? Get it, it’s a globe and it lights up and I showed it to you.” Tee hee.

He gave me a look. I knew he was in no mood for my corny sense of humor. He hadn’t had his cocktail yet apparently and didn’t see how dang funny I was being. You see, Jerry can be pretty humerous at times, there was this one time we had a bottle of Jagermeister and a chicken that had fallen off the chicken truck. You see the chicken wasn’t hurt or anything, but then Jerry poured him some of the Jagermeister… needless to say I never drank Jager again after that night. But I guess you had to be there.

Anyways, right now, he was calling me out on my stupid little joke.

Jerry said “I was thinking a change of scenery, like somewhere more warm and near the ocean. Like somewhere in California…”

I then sighed and poured a glass of wine. I knew this day would come. Jerry, you see, wasn’t meant to stay with me forever.

He took a little sip of my wine. (He’s a terrible flirt, but I don’t mind.) I gave his foot an affectionate squeeze.

I say to Jerry, “How does San Francisco sound to you?”

He smiles and squints his eyes, “Groovy.”

I’ll take him to the bus stop this weekend.

For those of you that want to know, pattern: Stitch and Bitch Nation -Henry Rollins torso, Joey Ramone head arms and legs and about 8 hours with some fun fur (don’t  ask.) yarn: total stash bust, but washable so YAY. Going to the arms of a sweet baby girl- the daughter of an old, dear, friend (a hippie who will appreciate the humor of this creation) and his lovely wife whom I have not yet been fortunate enough to meet!

This morning I started the complaint process with a vendor that misrepresented a download of a probably pirated textbook. I’m cheap, and trying to go green and it is an accounting book for a class I’m merely auditing, I thought a digital copy would be, I don’t know, convenient?

Me:

I thought that this was going to be the textbook, (Textbook Title Here.)

Instead, this was the powerpoint presentation for the chapters, which is not entirely useful to me.

I would like a refund please.

Sincerely,

Moi

Them:

hi,you bought the files is not powerpoint presentation for the chapters,it is solution manual or test bank for textbook.

Me:

I understand that now, but it was presented as the textbook.

Am I going to get a refund or am I going to have to take it up with Pay Pal?

Them:

This files is consistent with the description, the product description said it is solution manual or test bank, not textbook,you should see the description before buying, so you agree the describe before you purchase, my file is correct and complete. What you are saying is just an excuse.

Me:

Ok, so insulting your customers is the way you do business and customer satisfaction is not important to you at all.

I will take it up with paypal or my credit card company if necessary (you see, I’ve been a good customer to both organizations and they DO care about how merchants treat me.)

Thank you for being absolutely NO help at all, and have a lovely day.

(Opens PayPal dispute)

Them:

i know you are liar,you steal my files.fuck your mother,watever asshole.

and:

i know you are liar,you steal my files.fuck your mother,watever asshole. i will win,I strongly do not refund, you are an idiot.go away,fuck.

Me:

I didn’t steal your files, they are readily available online.

Also, sir, you may want to be aware that the publisher of this book has no idea you are selling these files.

You should watch yourself. This is no way to do business.

And if you have to resort to cursing and name calling, I’ve already won.

Have a lovely day.

Them:

You are an idiot, the world is on you this idiot, you are a bastard, well, I will give you a refund within 24 hours, you are an idiot. I am a smart person.

I’m comforted that I’m dealing with a smart person here. This would have been a real nightmare otherwise.

Turns out that PayPal does not protect buyers of “Virtual Goods” so I’m most likely out the money  anyways unless CitiCards saves the day or by some miracle the choad actually refunds my money.

Lesson learned.

Then my grandpa sent me 4 emails this morning on how to get rid of wrinkles.

Is someone trying to tell me something?

I know that I have established that I may be a little old lady already, but seriously? AA-frickin-R-P?

I can’t believe I’ve never told this story before. Probably because I didn’t want to change the names to protect the guilty.

Well, once upon a time I worked for someone that provided a service that rhymes with art restoration as an apprentice/assistant. I won’t delve into that too deeply, it was a year of my life I’ll never get back but ultimately great real world experience that has brought me to the place that I am today… hmmm. Food for later thought.

Anyways, Ms. Harmon had an object d’arte that required the services of my employer. He took a very,very long time before finally shopped it out. (This, I was to find out, was most typical of the way he did things, hence the me leaving after a year.) Meanwhile, I’m answering email and doing other assistant-like things for near minimum wage and she emails me. I think, oh -my-god-Angie-Harmon’s-emailing-me! But ultimately I end up having to stall for more time. I remember specifically saying to her that the object would be shipped “presently.” (Who talks like that? I must have thought it sounded professional and confident.)

Then the unthinkable happened and the subcontractor broke the damn thing in delivery.

Smacks forehead. We were at square one again. And I just couldn’t tell Angie Harmon what had happened. Damn.

Angie was displeased. Angie chewed me out. Angie wanted to know on what planet “presently” meant another month.

Ultimately, she did get her item. She was pleased with the work.

But every time I see her on television, I remember that she’s out there and she hates me.

That’s all.

www.engrish.com

Enjoy today and have a laugh, keep warm tonight a blizzard is apparently heading to North Georgia.

No?

It’s not a blizzard?

Then why, exactly, is everyone FREAKING OUT?

A brand new concert flute.

You may naturally be asking why.  I will attempt to formulate an adequate response for such an odd impulse purchase. You may not know that the  Spazz played the flute from grade school through high school. And I didn’t totally suck either, my junior year I made it all the way to fourth chair before I started losing interest and nearing the finish line of my high school career. I maintained a not too shabby front line of the second string, but alas, my instrument was stolen during my senior year over 14 years ago. (I know, who would steal a flute, right?)  I stumbled upon a moderately priced concert flute this weekend at Tuesday Morning of all places. (Don’t you just LOVE Tuesday Morning?)

Long story long, I snapped it up after very little persuasion from mom. Turns out, much to my surprise and the amusement of both Jeff and my mother, I can play a B flat scale AND arpeggio.

Thaaaaaat’s about all folks.  But I look forward to practicing and re-learning what I can so I can bust out  some wicked “rock flute” at a future gathering. I’m thinking some “Smoke on the Water” or “Stairway to Heaven” or even “Enter Sandman” would be nice to add to my repertoire.

I need to work on my posture. And clean some junk off the fridge while I’m at it. (Yes I voted for Obama and yes, I’m currently a little disappointed even though I didn’t like that other guy much either.)

In other news, I finished a cupcake hat. Well, actually, I finished five cupcake hats. There are too many delicious little girls that needed warm heads this winter. Because I am wildly impatient and couldn’t wait until official gifting time, not to mention the fact that this little nugget was hat less on Saturday evening (shame, shame Ole) I have already gifted one hat.

I’ve got it baaaaaaaad for this little one. She’s both my weakness and endless delight. In short, she’s my pwecssssssousssssesssss. Yes, she has red eyebrows .  RED eyebrows I tell you. Be still my beating heart I almost can’t stand it and want to gobble her up every time I see her. The empty womb is apparently knocking. (Don’t worry, I’ve hit snooze.)