I'm going insane right now.
In the membrane.
We're installing some kind of complex security system in Workplace, and they are pounding, drilling, and whacking large kettle drums (apparently) right outside my office. Fuck me in the goat ass, it's loud.
I brought Dog to work again and it's a darn good thing she's so mellow. She's just curled in a ball, snoozing away, while I am gobbling ibuprofen and cramming Kleenex in my ears to drown out the noise.
All this security crap despite the fact that all sort of assorted friends, family, and fauna have access to Workplace, and most afternoons we just leave the door wide open.
So we took the dog camping this weekend. We went out to Rainier National Park and found a nice campground, put up our tent, had some lunch, then headed off to do some hiking.
Dogs? Are not allowed on any trails in Rainier National Park. Wonderland trail? No dogs. Muir trail? No dogs.
We walked along the road narrowly avoiding being hit by cars for a while, then headed back to camp. We sat there. It was about 3 PM. JB suddenly realized he had forgotten to bring a book.
Eight thousand years later, it was Sunday morning and we headed back home to attack our yard. Our front yard has been a major disgrace since we moved in - it's got a vast empty expanse of bark-crap with billions of weeds poking through. Plus we have not exactly been successful on establishing a lush, velvety green lawn. But what was really bugging my shit was the garden area directly in front of our house.
The day before we moved in, we drove to our new house just to look around. A few minutes after we got there, the previous owners showed up "just to say hi", and they sort of dragged us around the yard pointing out things. At one point they both clasped their hands to their chests and waxed poetic about the DAHLIAS they had planted in the front. Oh, the DAHLIAS were just going to be so amazing! Just wait until those beautiful DAHLIAS bloom!
Yeah, so the dahlias? Are fugly as hell. Picture a barren little stretch of bark in front of a house, studded here and there with these tall-ass spindly stalks, each sprouting a little poof of unattractive color. It might have worked if there were actually other plants clustered about, but on their own it was like a sorrowful little white trash oasis.
Me: "I hate those dahlias."
JB: "Yes. They are the French Poodle of flowers. Let us destroy them."
After we went to the nursery and bought an assortment of shrubs and plants, I had the distinct pleasure of yanking up every single one of those dahlias by their scrawny little necks. Seriously, it was like some kind of sick massacre on my part - I was pulling them out with these, like, pig grunts of joy. The whole area looks much better now, with shades of green and lots of planted lavender. Yeah, baby.
Oh, and on Friday we saw Chris Isaak perform, which was awesome. He did a perfect show, great music and some very funny banter on his part. Plus he did a pelvis-thrust maneuver during Baby Did A Bad Bad Thing was was definitely worth the price of admission. Chicks threw their bras up on stage. Seriously!
comments so far.
I have moved. - 1.03.2005
Obviously, a work in progress. - 12.27.2004
Happy holidays! - 12.24.2004
Listen, I am not a complete dick, it's not like I want Joe to die alone surrounded by cats or something. - 12.23.2004
Plus I am convinced my butt is extra big when it's upside down. - 12.22.2004