All kinds of crazy

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Me: So, what do you think?
Him: I think you’re getting too bored, too often. (followed by mad cackling)

We got a call from USAGC, which is the USA green card lottery people. I filled in the application in order to enter another, unrelated lottery and promptly forgot about it. Honestly, I feel a little dirty. The woman who called me up had an intelligible but heavy accent, and while she was rambling up all the countries that were not eligible in this lottery (oh, we are fortunate to be born in the land of Danes and Funland, respectively, for sure) I couldn’t help think how she might just be working at a callcenter in any of those countries herself.

I felt slightly dirty telling her I’m a housewife. And more so when she told me it was OK because I am married to someone who does have a job.

And by the way, we have twice as much chance to win because we’re married. And Carlita would of course get a green card too.

It feels all kinds of wrong to be eligible just because of where we were born. I don’t speak for all Funns, but I’m sure they’d be able to find a million other people that are more deserving than the two of us - and I wanted to tell her; Lady, you do not want us. Trust me.

I told her I needed to discuss it with my husband, because she wanted us to pony up money. I devilishly lied and told her Jelly Man was working while he is, in fact, on his third week of a month long vacation - spending much of his time farting and playing poker - and felt utterly disgusted with myself.

* * *

In other news, I got my period. That is all kinds of relief and only slightly melancholic.

* * *

He behaved like a gentle giant, but he was the smallest of us all. He died, and I already forget when, but his grave is neatly tucked between two berry bushes - something I’m sure he would approve of, had he only known - and it rained later that night, how fitting. I couldn’t help thinking that the roses bloomed so hard and fiercely this year just for him. His little box was padded with rose petals and stemless roses. We’re pretty sure he passed away in his sleep, and thinking back we do remember him being a bit on the tired side as of late.

Every now and then it hits me hard, but he had a pretty good life. And a long one, six whole years.

R.I.P. Twin, the boarest of boars.

I present to you

Saturday, March 29, 2008

My life. Imagine this. Juhani sleeping quietly on the couch in the living room. Wakened by a mad woman charging at him with a broom held high above her head, yelling "Aaaah!!" at the top of her lungs, exclamation marks and all. Imagine the widening of his eyes and the gargled yelp that escape his throat. Just imagine.. Except I wasn't charging at him, I was chasing after Negrita, whom I had let out (thrown out) just moments earlier, and who grandpa let straight fucking back in the second I planted my ass back in this chair. The broom-yielding woman in me never had a better excuse to drop by. Now, before you think there is a little cigar box full of insect wings where my blood and flesh heart ought to be, let me present to you; Part of the tacky '80s structure that house the television, DVD/VHS player and xBox, plus assorted junk. Evidence: It isn't exactly my favorite piece of furniture in this house, to be truthful I don't think I HAVE a favorite piece of furniture (not since Jelly Man puked on the sleeping sofa), maybe it's even my least favorite. It's no good for storage as it's very horizontal and hardly measures anything on the vertical scale, so besides the TV we tend to store recently purchased DVDs, recently watched DVDs and recently pulled out of storage because we might want to watch it again DVDs, plus any other random junk you can think of. I think it stinks, and if I ever take a better picture of it II will give you an opportunity to tell me why, and how much, you agree with me. So, what happens when you go behind the number one furniture I would volunteer to burn, should we need to do so to keep warm? Result: Explanation re stinky furniture and broom swinging spouse.

Toothless Salmo

Monday, November 05, 2007

I thought baby food in a jar smelled bad when Carlita started solids, but now that we have to buy Salmonella wet cat food I’m having to redefine “bad”. Wet cat food smells like something crawled into a musty old barrel and died a slow, painful death over the course of several moist months, just add a little sauce that has the potential to be part of something good, and voilà! Wet cat food.

While Carlita’s fever was hogging all the attention, Salmo was walking around looking particularly under the weather. This is so not the Salmo we know and love, and while we can’t be sure how long she suffered until we caught on, I’m fairly certain it wasn’t too long. Or so I hope.

There was an emergency vet appointment, which showed a broken jaw and several teeth knocked in on one side. Her tail was also limp which suggested it might be broken. She was given painkillers and antibiotics, got her jaw stitched, some teeth pulled and Jelly Man was told to take her to a bigger vet the following day. There they took x-ray’s and saw that yup, a tail bone was out of place. She had her jaw restitched, her tail fixed, tooth-remains removed and got sent home.

So, obviously she has to eat wet cat food, and I just absolutely loathe the smell of it. Although I’m not too fond of the smell of poo either, yet I wipe butt every day. But, I digress..

She is so much better now. Salmonella is a very affectionate cat and has fits of love where she rubs her musk all over us, especially our faces. For a while there the stench that came wafting at me when she would have one of her fits was just.. unbelievable. Fortunately there is no more post-op cat halitosis. Just the normal kind. But thank goodness for an alive Salmo. Couldn’t do without her.

Yay for recovering pets! We’ve got the x-ray’s somewhere here - I’m plotting a way to get them online.. 

Damn it

Sunday, October 14, 2007

This is turning out to be yet another crappy weekend in a whole row of crappy weekends, and better yet, it would seem that this particular crappy weekend is wiping the floor with all the other crappy weekend’s lifeless and crappy bodies.

Jelly Man just drove off to the vet. Salmonella hasn’t been herself lately, but we’ve been so wrapped up in the baby fever syndrome, that we just didn’t pay much attention, and then all of a sudden we’re like; “Where’s Salmo? Have you seen Sally lately? Didn’t she look a little extra stiff today? Yeah, you think? Me too. In fact I haven’t seen her eat lately!”

We don’t know what’s wrong with her, especially not me since I decided I’d be better off focusing on one terror at a time because I simply can’t take any more heartache right now, but Jelly Man says it looks like some of her teeth are missing, and she’s a bit limpy.. And god, I don’t want to think about it. There better be good news when they get back or I’m going to have a real beef with the universe. Be warned Universe, it would not be pretty!

// UPDATE //
01:13pm - THEY’RE COMING HOME! There was no x-ray machine at the tiny vet office that was open today, so Salmonella will go to another place tomorrow for another checkup, plus surgery. So far they know of a broken jaw, but they will need to x-ray to make sure there is nothing else wrong. She’s been prescribed antibiotics, painkillers and soup in the meanwhile. Am off now to go make her a nest.

Thank you Universe. Thank you so much. (I totally owe you one!)

01:52pm - THEY’RE HOME! She is going to another vet tomorrow for x-rays to determine if she needs surgery on her bladder, and possibly restitch her jaw, but the vet assured us she’ll be as good as new (save for a few teeth that were shattered and apparently had to be picked out chip by shattered chip. Boy am I glad I stuck with the sourly toddler - I don’t think I could’ve handled the carnage.)