FYI, when it finally gets cold enough to well and truly frost, make sure the windshield wiper fluid in your car contains anti-freezy stuff. Otherwise, if you are lazy like me, and opt for washing away the frost layer instead of scraping it, you’ll end up with blue sno cone guts smeared all across your windshield. Which was totally not the effect I was going for.
Category: Crankypantsing
Rain, rain, go away
Indiana has a rainy season. If you don’t live here, I bet you didn’t know that. Every fall, we seem to go through weeks-long spates of seemingly endless rain. It makes the baby Shelly cry, it does, all that unrelieved grey and cold and wet. Miss Brown does not like it, either. Nope, not one little bit.
Last week, it rained pretty much every day. Because Harriet will melt and freeze in the cold rain, she decided she’d rather not go outside to play. She spent one entire afternoon sitting on the couch, looking wistfully out the patio window at the constant drizzle. I was reminded of a bored and grumpy child, wishing the rain would end so she could go outside and play. After several loud, dramatic sighs from Harriet, I decided she needed to have her picture taken.
The subject of photography came up in another forum. I’m not any sort of photographer, but Harriet is an excellent subject, so it’s fairly easy to get decent pictures of her. Still, the majority of photos I take of her are not fit for public consumption. Sometimes, they’re just plain awful, and other times, the difference between a keeper and a junker is more subtle.
For example, I prefer the top photo over the second one. In the first photo, Harriet’s eyes are softer and more relaxed. Also, the photo was taken from a higher angle, so more of Harriet’s face is visible, giving her head more “weight” on the pillow.
This is an illustration of why flash sucks. Sure, Harriet’s butt is nice and shiny, but if you look carefully, you’ll see that the shadows between the different layers are stark and far too crisp. The result looks like a bunch of elements cut out of paper and stacked on top of each other. It’s a flat and ugly photo.
This one, too, was taken with flash, but the results are a little more pleasing than the above photo. Harriet still has Shiny Butt, but the shadows are less harsh.
So, in my world, only one of these images is a real keeper. Ain’t she the cutest thing EVAR?
Paint on, Paint off
No new artwork, because my studio is still a gawdawful mess. I may actually have a chance to remedy that this weekend, but I wouldn’t recommend holding your breath or anything. I have, however, been hard at work, watching a ludicrous number of home improvement shows. HGTV and I are BFF, dontchaknow?
Anyway, something I’ve noticed, and that annoys the crap out of me, is the way folks paint. Now, we’re talking about interior house painting, not art painting, but the main principle is the same. Basically, what you see on most home improvement shows is wrong, wrong, wrong, wrongity, wrong-wrong. I had the fortune (or misfortune, depending on your perspective) of being taught how to paint by my ex-stepfather, who in turn learned to paint from his father. The family business was house painting and wall papering, so.
- If your roller is making sucking noises, it is way too dry.
- If your roller is splattering flecks of paint all over the place, it is way too dry.
- Invariably, the rollers pictured on teevee are TOO EFFING DRY. Do not fear the paint, folks. By not loading the roller with enough paint, you are just creating more work for yourselves. A lot more work. If nothing else, painting with a too dry roller will fling paint all over the place, which makes clean up a giant pain in the ass. Done correctly, you should be able to paint both the walls and ceiling without getting paint on the floor, yourself, or even any specks on your glasses.
- Do not roll in a haphazard, criss-cross pattern. You should always roll from top to bottom, in overlapping, vertical strokes.
- Rolling from top to bottom will alleviate the splatter problem (though there oughtn’t be a spatter problem, if your roller is properly loaded), as any paint that does spatter will spatter toward the wall. Physics is our friend, folks.
- Rolling in an overlapping, vertical pattern will provide the best coverage. The roller will apply the thickest paint toward the end where it attaches to the handle, because that is where the pressure is greatest.
- Any time you go over an already painted area, you are actually removing paint, not applying it. Why anyone would want to spend hours and hours rolling paint off a wall is a mystery to me, but maybe that’s how some folks get their kicks. Not me, though. I actually enjoy interior house painting, but I don’t see the point in creating more work for myself.
- By overlapping the edges of each rolled section, you will match heavy to light, creating an even application of paint.
Not that I think this will actually be of help to anyone. I just thought I’d explain why home improvement shows–which I otherwise find irresistible–tend to make my hair hurt.
Moving the Furniture Round
I’m still in the process of unpacking and arranging and rearranging and rearranging and rearranging furniture. This is a process that I fear might very well have no end.
A couple of weekends ago, I was suddenly motivated to try a different television set-up. I wanted to try placing the TV on a shelf unit because it would provide more space for stereo equipment and speakers. Turns out, that wasn’t one of my more intelligent decorating decisions. After I spent an hour or so putting the shelving unit together and moving the equipment onto it, I got sidetracked doing other stuff and turned off the TV without having given the picture a good look. I assumed all was well, which as it turns out, was a little foolish on my part. A few days later, I sat down to watch television and noticed a weird green tinge along the right-hand edge of the picture. I assumed I’d bumped the TV and damaged it when I moved it. A new TV is notnotnot in my budget right now, so I was right some Jesus cranky about it. Hrmf!
Then, last weekend, I was describing the problem to a friend. I told her that it was as if all the colors along the right-hand edge of the screen had been polarized, because they were opposite of what they were supposed to be. Then, it hit me. Duh! Polarization! I had placed a fairly large speaker above the TV. A fairly large speaker containing a fairly large woofer containing a fairly large magnet. I removed the speaker, and everything went back to normal. Huzzah!
The moral of that story is two-fold. First, sometimes it’s best to listen to your lazy inner voice when it tells you to sit on your ass and watch television instead of rearranging furniture. Second, don’t place speakers in close proximity to your TV.
Telemarketers
One thing I hadn’t fully appreciated the importance of, moving-wise, was the fallout of changing my phone number. Getting a new phone number is one of those minor pains in the arse. Or, at least, it ought to be a minor pain in the arse. What I had not accounted for was that I’d suddenly not be on the state and national Do Not Call lists. Ugh!
I have been inundated with calls from The Chicago Tribune, The Indianapolis Star, The Herald-Times, MCI, and some others I’ve forgotten. The aforementioned stand out for their persistence. MCI has been calling about every two hours since last Wednesday. The newspapers have each been calling a least twice a day. MCI is the one that’s about to shred my last nerve, though. They called at the crack of dawn this morning. I know Mondays are work days for most people, but it was my one day to sleep in this week, and I was exhausted and really needing to play catch-up. Assholes!
Of course, I re-signed up for both DNC lists, but they won’t go into effect until early next year. Hrmf. The only halfway positive thing I can say is thank God for caller ID. Even so, I’m about ready to turn the ringers off, just so I don’t have to deal with it. It certainly does not help that I think the telephone is one of the most loathsome inventions EVAR. Really. I friggin’ hate the telephone.
Nuc-u-lar Fish
Someone nuked fish in the staff lounge microwave. I think the stench may have made me throw up in my mouth a little bit. Really. It’s beyond foul.
Milton
No, not the blind zealot who wrote Paradise Lost. I’m talking about the guy who had an unhealthy relationship with his red Swingline stapler. Milton is my new upstairs neighbor. He’s also known as Ravin’ Disco Aerobics Man and TeeVee Man. For the first two weeks, I heard him but never saw him. Finally, a couple of nights ago, I ran into him in the entryway to my building. I’m sure Milton is a wonderful person, but I do wish he would throttle down on the ravin’ step aerobics at 3am.
Anyway… I’m not completely moved yet. I had been planning on being out by the first of the month, but I’ve still got a couple of carloads of junk and a whole lotta cleaning to do at the old place. C’est la vie, eh? I also haven’t even begun unpacking. I have boxes and piles and stacks and heaps of crap everywhere, and no place to put any of it, because most of it involves books or other assorted things that go on shelves, and I have not yet solved my shelving dilemma. So the new place looks kinda like the old place, only with more furniture.
Miss Brown is settling in nicely, as is Pandora. There are lots of groundhogs, bunnies, birds, and one damned cheeky chipmunk to watch. The sliding window is large, and provides hours of entertainment for the girls.
The night we moved in, there was a nasty storm that passed through. It was actually quite enjoyable to sit inside the big window and watch the clouds and lightning.
Morning mist rising.
This is the field just off the patio. It’s large and lined with trees on three sides, so while it’s big and open, it’s also sort of secluded. The complex I’m in is also in a good neighborhood for dog walking.
Bunny
Grass Spider
Some of the local “wildlife.” There are bunnies galore, living under the ginormous, sprawling thicket in the back field. There is also a Grass Spider (a variety of funnel weaver) living in my kitchen window. Kitchen windows just wouldn’t be the same without spiders living in them, I guess. He’s kind of big and hairy and juicy, but Grass Spiders are docile and eat bugs, so I’m happy to have him. They’re supposed to be shy, but this guy spends a lot of time out of his hidey hole and doesn’t seem at all bothered when I open the blinds and watch him. It’s kind of like having a pet tarantula in a terrarium.
That’s pretty much it, I think. Hopefully I’ll get the studio unpacked sooner, rather than later, so I can get to work on some actual arting. In the meantime, I finally got the DSL hooked up (praise be!) and the cable has been installed. The cable is probably sucking more of my time than it should, considering that I really ought to be at least pretending to be productive. Those home improvement shows are mesmerizing, though, and with cable, they’re on pretty much round the clock.
Asshole Driver Two-for-one
When I come into town in the mornings, it’s so early that many of the traffic lights are set to flash. On some intersections, it’s four-way red (a four-way stop). On others, it’s flashing red in one direction and yellow in the other. The intersection at Fee & 17th is the latter, so when I cross Fee, I have a yellow flasher (everyone should have a yellow flasher, dontcha think?). I’m always really careful at that intersection, because folks on Fee frequently don’t seem to understand the concept of red flasher=stop.
This morning, I had probably my worst Fee & 17th experience ever. I slowed down a little as I approached the intersection, but then I had to literally stand on the brakes because some fuckwit in a Ford Expedition flew through the red flasher going at least 40mph. The jerk didn’t even slow down, much less stop. So I had to slam on my brakes, hard enough to skid and make my tires squeal. Grrr!
But wait, there’s more! If you order now, we’ll throw in Asshole Number 2 for free! So, I start to enter the intersection, onna counta I have the freaking right of way people, and a second car on Fee, which had actually stopped, started to enter the intersection, too. Just because I had to stop so I didn’t hit Asshole SOB #1 who ran a red light does notnotnot mean that Asshole SOB #2 suddenly has the right of way. I’m pretty sure that is not how it works!
Moving Update
Johnson Grass and Clouds
Moving Update: I’ve been busy house hunting and sorting and packing and not cleaning. The worst part of moving is the absolute lack of motivation to clean. The past few weeks, I’ve been living with stacks and piles and heaps of junk that I have no interest in picking up. Why clean it when it’s going to go into a box? I did force myself to clean the kitchen and wash dishes this morning, though, and right now I’m taking a break from cleaning out the bathroom cupboards.
The good news is that I think I have found a place. It’s an apartment, not a house, but the price is right and there are no size or breed restrictions for dogs. Huzzah! There’s a hefty pet deposit, but that’s to be expected. Harriet, even when she was suffering from awful separation anxiety, has never been the least bit destructive toward things like carpet, woodwork, and blinds. She is more the “tears up bedding and drags trash through the house” sort of baddog. I once had a dog with separation anxiety who broke windows and tore up doors and blinds, and that was No Fun. Since Harriet is a pretty good dog, I don’t expect that I’ll have any trouble getting my deposit back at the end. The people deposit is only $100, which surprised me, but I called several management companies and that seems to be the norm for apartment complexes around here. Weird! Little do they know, I’m the one they should worry about, not my dog. She isn’t likely to spill paint on the carpet.
I have an appointment to look at the place tomorrow morning, so if the planets are in the proper alignment and everything works out, I’m hoping I can move soon. Like, this weekend or next weekend. I can’t wait! The big question is whether or not it has enough room and that it has the proper configuration for setting up work space.
Now, back to packing and sorting and cleaning!
The Plague: a retrospective
I have watched way too much television over the past week. I’ve gone through three and a half boxes of Kleenex (with lotion!), one bottle of Mucinex, one bottle of cough medicine, and a whole lotta juice and water. I have learned that you should not cook when you have the flu, because whatever you make will taste vile. Not that I’ve actually wanted to eat anything, that is. I have also learned that it is possible to be asleep and awake at the same time, and it is not very restful at all. I have alsoalso learned that Boxers make damnfine hot water bottles.
I alsoalsoalso learned that Typhoid Mary told our boss that she just had allergies, but that the person in the cube next to her overheard her telling someone she was running a fever. I’m pretty sure she’s to blame for my week+ of misery, and I am right some Jesus pissed off at her for it. Thankfully, no one else at work seems to have caught it. I suspect I did because my allergies were at their worst and I was already feeling like crap.
What really pisses me off is that I had to use up all my sick and vacation time, and I was too damned sick to actually get anything done at home.
(Okay, who told Cheerios they were allowed to use Donovan’s Happiness Runs in their new commercial?!)
(Photo: Bath Time for Harriet 3 September 2006)
red paper boat 