Blog Hop!

I love this.  You can hop from blog to blog.  It's like an adventure!

What is a blog hop?
A blog hop is a linky list that is SHARED ON MULTIPLE BLOGS.

When several blogs put the same linky list code on their blog, the exact same list appears on each blog. Blog visitors can submit their entries on any blog that contains the list. The entries will appear on each blog where the list resides.

Blog readers see the same list on each blog, and can "HOP" from blog to blog seeing the same list of links to follow: BLOG HOP!

Dark Days for Brighton

Brighton is afraid of everything except ducks, and recently he's developed a new fear.

Jordan and I aren't talented in a vast array of things, but come Sunday morning I turn into Gordon Ramsey, Jordan morphs into Wolfgang Puck, and together we make the best Sunday breakfast you've ever seen.  Unfortunately, Brighton is afraid of our cooking.  To be clear, he's not afraid of the food we make, but just the act of us cooking sends him over the edge.

At first he would cower in the bedroom shaking uncontrollably, yet was easily lured out with bribes of bacon.  And really, who can't be lured by bacon?  Then he wouldn't come out for any sort of deliciously cured meats.  It continued to escalate to the point that he began seeking a safer sanctuary than the mere corner of the bed.

One morning we were creating the best breakfast sandwiches this side of the Mississip when we heard panicked little yips coming from the back half of the condo.  Jordan went to investigate while I joked that he was probably taking refuge in the tub.

Turns out he was.

I didn't get a picture, and while I still have not learned how to use Photoshop I have rendered a likeness of this occurence:

What a little tub he found!  His instincts would have served him better in a tornado rather than the great cook-off of November 2011.

Next week we closed the shower curtain so he couldn't take a kamikaze dive into the porcelain, but when a foxhole is unavailable I'll not be the one to say Brighton doesn't employ ingenuity.  Apparently he thought higher ground was a better option:

 Poor dearie.  A bit of a drama queen too, if you ask me.

We've taken to simply shutting the bathroom door while we cook because, while I'm all for providing him the security of our bathroom amenities, he can get onto the toilet but is also scared of jumping down again.  I assure you; the irony of him driven up there by fear and then stuck also by fear is not lost on me.

But while I'm on the subject of Brighton's yellow belly being where it shouldn't be, he's made a regular hobby of climbing onto the table.  I suppose he sees us eating there and assumes that's the magical tablet where food appears.  He's not all together wrong...

Naturally, he can't get down from there on his own either.  Now, whenever I hear the stricken barks of a boy in need I know he's either stuck in the tub, on the table, or the toilet.  Coincidentally, these are the same three places morbidly obese people also get stuck.

Just sayin'...

The World's Most Awkward Conversation

At the Subway Drive Thru window:

Employee: "Hi, how're you?"

Bre: "Uh, good.  And you?"

Employee: "Your total is $8.00"

I hand him my card, he stops in the middle of taking it from me.

Employee: "Oh, I'm good.  Having a good day."

Bre: "Well, good.  That's good."

"Employee: "Here's your sandwich."

Bre: "Thank you."

Employee: "And this is your drink."

Bre: "Thank you."

Employee: "Have a good night!"

Bre: "Thanks, you too." 

And I prepare to pull out.  Suddenly, he leans out the window.

Employee: "Looks like it's going to rain."

Bre: "Oh...really?"

Employee:  "Just look at those clouds, I think it's going to rain.  It's dark."

Bre: "Uh huh....Ok, bye!"

Employee: "See ya!"

And then I high-tailed it out of there.

Redemption Is MINE!

Today me and a bunch of coworkers went back to the Habitat for Humanity house for more team-building and volunteer work.  I was not looking forward to it after my last experience a mere three weeks ago.  If you're confused and would like to not be, you can read about it by clicking...here.

Now that you're all caught up, and fully understand why I was dreading a return visit, I'll continue with my story.

I spent some time trying to think of a good reason not to go, but couldn't find anything reasonable or believable and found myself once more on the build site.  I felt it was important to prove myself not completely incompetent and got right to work.  I was mainly able to do so because all there was to do at first was haul wood from the living room to outside, and any idiot could do that.

Then I got my assignment, and I'm not even sure how it landed in my lap, not if I would be able to pull it off.  I was told to build the windowsills and moldings.  Sounds complicated?  That's because it was.  I almost laughed when the foreman was giving instructions 'cause I couldn't believe he really expected me to be able to accomplish such a task.  It was a process with many many steps, involving four different kinds of saws and a nail gun.  And they let me play with power tools, even after the last time.

I had to measure the window, adding a bit for the lip, then cut a board to fit, saw around the lip, and nail the sucker down.  Then measure, cut and nail in the molding.  Considering I couldn't even measure right last time this is extra impressive.  I did six windows in total in the four hours that we were there.

I am freaking Bob Villa.  I'm considering starting my own home improvement show, with the only topic of building window sills and molding, 'cause that's all that I can do.  But I can make the crap out of them.  I am now convinced I should go into construction because I fancy myself a full on carpenter.

I should have taken a picture so you could really get the full effect, but didn't want to look like a dork taking a picture of (the world's best-fashioned) window sills.  Though, I suppose it's no less dorky to blog about making window sills...

It's safe to say I've redeemed myself, and can now show mysefl at Habitat for Humanity.  Can, but probably won't.  I think I've had my fill this year.

Saturday Night

Saturday Night
9:00 PM

Jordan:  I want come chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream.

Bre: Hmmm.

Jordan: So, let's go.

Bre: Really?  You have to have it now?

Jordan:  Yeah.  Let's go to Target.

Bre: OK...Well, how about we just go through the Iceburg drive thru?

Jordan: It tastes better at Target.  Why don't you want to go to Target?

Bre: Nothing would make me feel fatter than going to Target at 9:00 at night specifically for ice cream.

Jordan:  Well, we could get some underwear too...

Bre:  Right, so we'll just look like we need new underwear 'cause we ate so much ice cream we grew out of our current pair?  Goin' to Target for ice cream and underwear looks much better.

15 minutes later we're scanning the checkout lines for a cashier that looks like she knows what it's like to get ice cream at 9:00 at night and won't judge us.

Where's The Humanity?

Today me and a couple coworkers went to volunteer with Habitat for Humanity as a team building exercise.  I felt pretty good about it because:

       1. I was still on the clock.
       2. I wasn't at work.
       3. I was doing charity.

I hate to admit, but that is in order with the happiest on the top.  I love helping other people, but unfortunately getting a paycheck out ranks that.

Ready to jump in and help out, I then came to the realization that I have zero knowledge on how to do anything regarding building a house.  I remembered the time where it took Jordan and I several hours to install an overhead fan in the living room.  And when I say "Jordan and I",  I really mean Jordan.

Yet, I felt confident there would be a place for me, something I could do to contribute, and possibly learn a skill.  Then I found out that we were going to be putting siding on a house.  (Excuse me while I blow the sawdust out of my nose...)

Basically the two jobs that were needed and available was to either climb up onto the second story of some very untrustworthy looking scaffolding to nail in the siding, or cut the wooden siding to specific sizes to fit around windows and what not.

I might have made a statement that I would rather die than climb up the rickety scaffolding, which is what probably would have happened had I attempted it.  So, I was to find a job while earth-bound.  Partnering up with a very nice and patient man, he suggested that I measure and mark the siding boards, and he would cut them. 

Sure.

I tried to make the first measurement, while he hung over my shoulder most apprehensively.  The measurement was 44 1/8.  When I pointed at a hash mark asked if that was right it must not have been because he suggested that he measure, and I cut.

Sure. 

I wanted to giggle that he was actually letting me operate a power saw, but thought that might not instill any more faith in my competency.  He instructed me on how to use the saw, and kept saying crazy things like, "Get your fingers away from the blade!".  I made my first shaky cut, then stopped, worried that I was doing it wrong.  He very patiently reiterated his instructions, and I was on my way.  I cut the crap out of that board.  But, I don't think I cut it the right length 'cause they sent it back to us saying it was too long.  Better too long than too short, I said confidently and we he remeasured.  I made another cut- less shaky, more straight and was so proud.  But then I heard someone from the scaffolding say, "This board is cut crappy."  I offered to let my partner give it a go, but he insisted I try again.  Bless his heart.  When it came back again still just a hair too short, I told the guy to go ahead and shave the excess off, saying I had faith that this board would be right if he were to cut it.  He graciously suggested that he could measure and cut if I would be so kind as to take the cut boards and toss them up to the guys on the scaffolding.

Sure.

I was doing ok with the long pieces that I could just hold up vertically and the scaffolding guys could reach down and grab, but then it took me six tries to toss the smaller boards high enough and accurately enough so the guy on the scaffolding could catch it, without dying at least.

After I messed up every job that I figured it was time for a lengthy water break and to get reacquainted with my kindle.  No one was complaining, that was for sure.  It's actually reaffirming that yes, I belong at a desk 'cause there is no way I would be able to hack it in construction.

I'm excited that my boss signed us up to go back in a couple weeks.

Because I have nothing better to do but to ramble on and on and on

Well, folks it's Friday, and pay day to boot.  That being said I have about an hour left in the work day and heaven knows I'm desperately trying find ways to fill my time.  Preferably things that don't involve working, mostly 'cause I have completely run out of work to do, and am scratching the bottom of the barrel to stay busy.

Naturally, this post will have no point, and make very little sense.

Today I went home on my lunch break.  Fridays are Jordan's day off, so I usually try to pop on in and have lunch with him, adorable I know.  He called and asked if I was on my way, to which I assured him I was.  Then he said, "K, don't freak out."  Which are the last words that should be used when trying to keep a person from freaking out.  Those words were followed with other words like, "There's something wrong with Bella," and, "allergic reaction," and ended with, "her eyes are swollen."

Luckily I was almost home, and told him I would see him in a minute.  Bella was waiting for me at the door, and she looked really pathetic.  I'll share, how 'bout that?

Her right eye (the left on the picture) was red and swollen on the upper lid, while the other eye was swollen on the lower lid, and sagging all way down her cheek, exposing the inside of her eye lid.  Which, by the way, I had no desire to see.  She was shaking uncontrollably and had puked half a dozen times before I got there.

We called and made a vet appt, and I was ready to call work and tell them that I was not coming back in.  Then right before I could, and 15 minutes before her appointment, the swelling started to go down, and her eyes started to look half way normal.  Though normal is her case could still be defined as buggy.  At least she doesn't look like her transformation to zombie is 25% complete.

The bad news is I still have 50 minutes left to work, and am no more less bored than I was at the beginning of this post.

In other news, I think I sometimes forget to blink...