BethanyRambling

Not quite so happy...

I finally got around to bombing the crap out the spiders under the house, the ones that have been creeping up through the heating vents in ones and twos. I closed all the vents I could find, but they must have a super secret spy way in, because the house was chock full of casualties of war when I got home tonight. Several of them the ping-pong sized variety. All of them requiring squooshing. What fun.

My sisters and I played fun little games, attempting to manipulate each other into doing things for us. It usually came down to who wanted it more, and me being the easy going gal that I am, I usually caved and brought Rachael the damn banana. I shocked her once, though. There was a giant spider on the floor in the rec room (actually our garage). She was playing the "no, you do it" game, sure I was playing along, not aware of the fact that I am close to hyperventilating, and wigging out in a big way. I finally attempt to smoosh it, don't quite succeed, and instantly burst into tears. She was very helpful with spiders after that. See, I like smooshing even less than I like the spiders. It's just not pleasant, and if I mess up the first whack, I'm a mess.

Luckily I got all the ones today on the first whack. What really terrifies me now is this; spiders like dark corners, right? So for all the dozens that invaded the visible spots on my walls, how many are lurking under my covers? Crap. I have to go tear apart my bed now.

My knitting content is being replaced with handiness content. I finished laying the concrete board yesterday, and today, with many curses and bandaids, I managed to almost get back together the sink/vanity. I just have to replace one little piece of wood that I managed to turn into splinters, and then hope that the jerry-rigged bottom will hold the weight of the sink. I think it will. The frustrating part is that it is an ugly, chintzy little vanity, held together originally with staples (you try making staples re-attach). Seriously thinking about replacing the whole thing. Of course, if I have this many issues with a vanity-in-a-box, do I really think I can fabricate a whole new one? Mmm... no.

Mmm... happy

My tummy is full of gnochi and wine. My bathroom floor is covered with concrete board, just waiting for fun tiles and toilets. My computer seat gives me a perfect view of the full moon rising over my mountain. And I just whupped the computer in Monopoly, and whupped it bad. Life, it is good.

On top of all this goodness, I get to go home for my buddy's wedding in just a couple of days. Then I'm kidnapping my ma to bring her up north with me for a week. I feel blessed.

I'm still homesick and lonely and really don't like the nasty blue polo shirt I have to wear to work, if you really want to hear me whine, but all that is in the fuzzy distance. Man, that moon is a stunner. I think I'll go outside and sit a while.

All make ready, the Great Pumpkin approaches!

Halloween's almost here! I'm twitching, I'm so excited. Or maybe that's the box of pumpkin peeps.

This is my favorite holiday ever. Better than Christmas, better than any birthday... in fact, the only way you could make it better would be to give gifts as well. Candy to strangers, DVD players to friends. Everyone gets dressed up, and at midnight, by the warm glow of jack-o-lanterns and street fires, everyone exchanges gifts. Could get confusing, though. "A negligee? I'm Frank, you idiot, your wife is the other ghost!"

I've always planned my costumes out almost a full year in advance. This was going to be my big year, the year I finally went as Martha. Stewart, not Washington. I've been searching for the perfect wig for the past 4 years, and collecting khaki's and denim shirts. I was ready. Now, no one will recognise me unless I wear prison orange, and there'll probably be a billion other Marthas out there. Sigh.

Speaking of not recognizing... did anyone else see the Larry King interview? It was frightening. She looked collagened and botoxed to the max, and I think Mary Kay herself did her makeup. Maybe even Tammy Faye. Oh, Martha... what happened to all your neutral tones?

Early in the morning a few days ago, having been up for well over 24 hours thanks to a schedule change, I came up with the best costume idea. First off, you have to understand that it's a group thing. Vegetables. One carrot alone would be pretty sad, but can't you just picture a whole flock of veggies walking down Castro? I'm really feeling the eggplant, I've got friends lined up for potato and leek, and I have the perfect celery in mind, I just have to convince him. Which may prove hard to do. My friends are starting to avoid my phone calls. I don't know why.

What is the proper pack name for a gang of vegetables? A murder of crows, a flock of seagulls, a... medley of veggies. Or goulash.

Okay, in reality, this is not going to happen. I'm getting a bit frantic. I guess I could go with my road idea from last year. No, I could be Life... as a highway. I wanna ride it all night long. Gimme gimme gimme gimme yeah. Still, I don't like costumes that require the question, "what the heck are you?" No one ever seems to appreciate my witty answer.

If you can't tell, I've been awake for a good bit today as well. I think I'll end this post before it degenerates any further, and go take a nap.

Kan't

Want to get drunk and slaughter a few goats and virgins? No sorry, I Kant.

Seems I am closest to aggreement with Kant, according to this test thingie, which came from Lala, link on Rachael's site. No big surprise. I got a kick out of seeing the 46% agreement with St. Augustine. I always suspected. I'm not about to live off bread crusts and water in the desert, but still... pretty cool.

Back to your normally scheduled blog.

Strange days

Last night, just before I fell asleep, I had one of those strange dream-images. A single image, that occurs when you are lucid enough to remember and marvel, but comes from out of fucking nowhere. This one was of the freaky recurring alien from the X-Files, shrunk to midget size, standing in the middle of my motel's corrider, eating pizza and laughing at me. That's all. Just that one image. Very Lynchian.

And no, I haven't had pizza in months, and I haven't seen the X-Files in even longer. I have no clue where that came from.

It has been a strange week here. On the positive, normal side, I managed to get a lot done. My bathroom floor is now stripped and intact, waiting for me to slap some concrete board down in preparation for tiles. I have a porch overhang, to keep the snow and ice off my steps. Yesterday I pulled out three broken windows, and slapped up plastic. The house looks happy and actively recuperating.

On the strange side... We'll start with a late night customer at work. A polite, tired looking man came in late one night, red-eyed from driving, and went through the motions of renting a room. Smile, Thank you, and walk out the door. Two minutes later, he was back.

"If we don't stay here, can I get my money back?" Now he was pissed. Flames were shooting from his red eyes.

"Ummm... we don't really do refunds... is there something wrong with your room?" I asked, realizing as I said it that he hadn't had nearly enough time to see the room, much the less find a pubic hair.

"No, it's the bitch I'm with! This whole trip has been a mistake..." and he went on and on, subjecting me to information I didn't at all want to know. Out he goes again, saying politely, "Do what you can, but I understand if you can't refund it." Polite to the end.

Two more minutes pass, and a woman carting pillows and a comforter comes in, and politely asks for a key to the room he just paid for. I asked if I should leave a key for the gentleman. "Oh yes," she replied. "I don't think he'll leave me here - it is my car, after all." On his way up, he dropped the keys off for me to put in the safe. "Under no circumstances are you to give them to her, okay?" Yeah, right.

This was all just icing on the cake, seeing as how I had woken up that night to bloodcurdling screams, and a woman's voice yelling over and over, "Call the cops! Someone call the cops!" Naturally, being a good upstanding citizen, I did. That was before I recognized the couple that just moved in across the street. The same couple I work with, every day. Before I found out that this happens all the time, but no one calls the cops, cause they don't want to get him in trouble.

So I felt a little bit bad. But that was before I thought about it. And before I knew that, in a drunken desire to drive, he had driven over her. So now I don't feel at all bad.

In the city, I used to listen to the fights in the apartment under mine, and wonder when the proper time to call the cops was. No one ever cried, and though I heard furniture smashing a time or two, it sounded like a pretty even fight, no one ever sported bruises in the morning, and the next night they would be back to their karaoke serenading of each other. "You arrrre my songggg!"

My fabulous night of domestic disturbances was a few days ago. This morning, the newspaper lady came in to my work about 4 am, as usual, and we chatted for a bit. "You live in that old store, right?" "Yeah," I said, thinking, hurrah for small towns. I'm known! She gave me a look, and said, "Heck of a neighborhood you've moved into."

She'd heard about the other ordeal, and that morning on her route, she had seen the cops and an ambulance at the other rental across the street. I still haven't found out what went on over there. I'm not sure I want to know. Whatever happened, for once, thank god, I wasn't a part of it at all.

Sometimes reality is stranger than a giggling pizza-mad midget in a motel hallway.

Sometimes. Not always.

And if you add weird flickering colored lights, it's never that strange.

Cold! (this time it really is)

It feels like it's been ages since I even turned my computer on. I'm working... way too much. It's funny that it's not even over 5 days a week, but it feels like so much more when it's midnights. I'm not really complaining, I need the work, and even with not much time off, I'm getting a good bit done on the house. There is now an overhang above the porch, a new sturdy one that won't fall on my head. The bathroom is torn down to the bare bones, which (thank god!) look fairly intact. I've got a guy in there right now, building the floor up again, and I should be up to tiling by next week. I may even have a toilet in there!

Water is going full force in both houses. There is a distinct brown color, but I think that is just to be expected with well water, right? I can still drink it, right? I mean, really brown. If I pour a glass of water, you can see the tint, and in a pot, it's even a wee bit cloudy. I'm not so sure about this. Still, it's a step up, and I am happy. And drinking tea anyway.

I managed to stay awake on Sunday to go to church, and hoo boy was I glad. The regular preacher was out of town, so a spare preacher from Plains came down for the day. He is also a logger, and the town gravedigger. He went on some interesting tangents, let me tell you.

No more for today. I don't have much else of interest, and really want to fit in a drive before I have to go to sleep. I got called in to work tonight, because the other midnight girl just quit yesterday.

Oh, did I mention it's cold? It's been in the 30s a few nights, and the days aren't getting up over 50ish. It's great, outside it smells like rain and woodsmoke all the time. It's a mountainy smell. Lovely.

Spiders!

Bleh. This is what I have lots and lots of.

Luckily, they aren't really harmful, but they're fast, and do bite. Of course the worst thing is that theyare ugly and scary. Bleh bleh bleh.

I had someone out today to spray chemicals galore, at least in the house I'm not sleeping in. They got the wasps nests as well, so I can venture outside a little more bravely. The good news is that the little bugs that were so pervasive are not cockroaches; just harmless, tough little beetles. Still, I don't say this often, but yay for chemicals.

I went a little bit crazy at the yarn store the other other day. "All work and no yarn makes Beth..." except that I do have yarn. Lots of it. I have no excuse, but... I needed MATCHING yarn. For the first time in my life, I am working with mohair, and lime green mohair at that. That's about as un-me as you can get. But it's perfect, it goes so well with the Jo Sharp Tweed I was gifted with, and it's making the perfect... Well, I can't really say yet. But it's perfect.

I counted yesterday. I have seven WIP. Seven! Life was so much easier when I only had one pair of needles and had to finish that before I could start anything.

Ooo, the water guy is here, gotta go.

More pictures!

Finally, I got my ass in gear.

The Blue Castle, pre-anything

The Blue Castle, post-some things

An example of what the previous tenants left

The bathroom, after a wee bit of demolition

Just an image I liked, from the bedroom in the Blue Castle

Traveling again; "She's dead, wrapped in plastic!"

Giant talking, winking Paul Bunyon

Stripes, happy to be back on the California coast

That's all for today. That took me too long; the yarn store has been open for an hour already, and that was the one thing I promised myself for today. So feast on pictures, words will come later.

Little House