Monday, January 28, 2013

Respect your Elder

Meet Tommy. He is my happy-go-lucky, awesome cousin. But sometimes I call him Thomasina, because I believe names are not something that should be set in stone. He is also one month and twelve days older, a fact of which he likes to flaunt, hence the title of this blog.)
In high school, Tommy went to one of the all-boy high schools, and I went to one of the all-girls one. He's really bad at answering phones and responding to text messages, so besides family events and showing up on his doorstep with ice cream on his birthday, the only time I saw him was at high school dances. I'm not sure if you can tell, dear readers, but I like taking pictures. So every dance I would scout him out and we would take our biannual cousin dance picture.
This is us circa 2006 at an Ursuline dance.
This tradition only fell to pieces once, when I traveled to Connecticut for a regatta instead of going to prom (not thinking to tell him) and he spent a good deal of the night searching for me. Whoops. 

We lived next door to each other our sophomore of college, and it was really nice being able to see him every once and a while on my way to class or to have a beer on the front lawn. 
He's pretty cool; I think I'll keep him.
Thanksgiving circa 2011. (This really is the most recent photo I could find...)
In college, he went through brief intervals of working at my dad law firm with me. It was always a surprise- never knowing if or when he'd show up- so I may have looked a bit like this when I saw him through my office window...
* Quenching my excitement* Hey cousin, hey. Welcome back

This week is dear Thomasina's last week at the office as he is off to pursue his first big boy job and I am sad. So I like to think of fun ways to barge into his office and start conversations, even though it is neither the time nor the place. Here is just one example:

K: So I hear you have a cookie for me.
T: I- What? No... *checks pockets* Who told you that?!
K: No one. I just really wanted a cookie.

Then he gives me boy advice and we talk about his belief of the imminent demise of cursive as a mode of writing. Of which I am not sold, since there are people out there like my mom who still teach calligraphy as well as cursive. But to that Tom looked at me straight in the face and said, "No way." After a failed attempt at trying to describe calligraphy tools, we googled calligraphy and he sighed. "Oh that's calligraphy... I was thinking you were saying she could write in hieroglyphics."

*smiles*

So long and thanks for all the fish.

Saturday, January 26, 2013

Adventures at the Laundromat


So, a while back, my twenty-year-old brother was staying at our house for a couple weeks and with him came 6 months worth of laundry. At least. Assuming multiple wears... 
I am really unclear if he actually doesn't know how to do laundry, or what, but regardless, the washing would have taken like 10 hours at least if I tried to do it in our washer/ dryer at home… And so, to the Laundromat!


And what an adventure it was.
On this trek, I brought my computer to watch a preloaded TV show (because there was no wifi there) and my phone to text friends in the many hours I expected to be there. 
I emptied the car of everything that was machine-washable and the rest would be dropped off at the dry cleaner after. Six to eight rolly bins later, I had three triple-load washers filled. So I just sat back and watched TV until it was time to empty them. In the meantime, Savannah walked in. 

Long story short, we had never met.
I did not know Savannah, but our unfamiliar state did not last long. She was waiting to use one of my washers when she looked over at me and just started talking: "Do I know you? You look familiar. Where are you from? Where did you go to high school? And when?"  (I did not include my responses because they are not relevant.)

I started to make the trip back and forth from the washers to the dryers as I heard her talking to another woman (I'm going to assume a woman she actually knows) about how some sketchy landlord wanted her to give him money without having her sign a contract for an apartment. Her response? "I've seen Judge Judy! I know how it works!" (Oh JJ, I do appreciate the fact that it educates as well as entertains.)

I'm back.
Also my brother is in ROTC Army. Therefore, I've got a lot of army paraphernalia going through the wash. 
ANNNDD Savannah is back. 
Asking if I'm in the army. No? Well her dad was in the marines. 
"You like animals? I love animals more than I love my children. There was this one time my little Bitch (that is her dog's name) was bit by a rabid coon or something, I just gave her half an aspirin... Because there was this one time I gave her the whole aspirin and she started foaming at the mouth, so now I just give her one." 

After this rite of passage, I was deemed worthy for all the personal information. She opened *this* conversation by asking me about this song that I have never heard of-- it's her brother's favorite. He's in jail.
"Man, the food there is so bad! I got so fat that my friends could not tell me apart from four pregnant women in this picture we took together." Then she talks about her stint in jail.
Her husband is also in jail, but he doesn't really count because they got married when they were nineteen... and he's in jail.
And there's the boyfriend who was actually right outside. But he didn't come in and help with the laundry because that's her job. He's 15 years older, and doesn't let her leave the house without him. Because he was a cheater, so naturally, he assumes she will cheat on him. At the Laundromat.
But she has her revenge, because when he pisses her off she cuts his pockets and bleaches his pants. Apparently he has no pants with pockets or without bleach.

My adventure ends there when her boyfriend escorts her away. I finish folding my brother's laundry and, like a boss, somehow fit nine loads into the three baskets he provided. 

I am the Folding Queen.

Sunday, January 20, 2013

Woes of a New Dog Owner


My simple dog refuses to be trained: she does “sit” occasionally, lays down if I have a treat in hand while simultaneously having my 7-year-old dog demonstrate the proper technique, and only comes if what I’m offering is better than what she currently has, but “stay” is completely nonnegotiable… She will not stay.


Ok. I can handle that. I still love her.
BUT THEN.... 

She goes to the bathroom in the house. Like right AFTER I took her outside.

WHHHHHAAAATTTTTTTT?????? 



So last night around 1:30a, she needs to go out. Ok. I can do that. She goes and I'm so proud.
But then I realize I forgot to unlock the door before leaving the house. 
Locked out. 
But I figure its not that late, I knock on the door and I am let in. Early morning comes and I let her out, she goes, comes back in and then starts to eat both hers and the other dogs food. She’s hungry; I’m going to let her eat. I sit down, I shit you not, for like five minutes. Then she comes to me with her tail between her legs and I know she has done just that.


Elektra, my sweet deluded little minion. Aren't we forgetting one teensy-weensy, but ever so crucial little, tiny detail?


She immediately knows this means she has to go outside, but in all the hubbub of trying to shepherd her out, I again forget to unlock the door. But I am determined to clean this mess up before anyone in the house wakes up. So I go through a secret door and over to the elevator to sneak back into the house… And instead of hitting the lights in the elevator, I hit the all house alarm bell. 
Everyone is up. 
And now, in the time that has elapsed, almost the whole house smells.
This is my life pretty much every day.

Frustration levels are high.
Dog school inevitable.


Thursday, January 17, 2013

I survived the Mayan Apocalypse



  Happy New Year, readers! These last couple months have passed in an absolute blur, I cannot believe it is already 2013. Let’s see what has happened since last we spoke? I got a dog, my sister got married, I graduated from college, and, yes, I am still driving Hektor, Car of the Year for 2012.
 
Elektra and I
(Serious paragraphs are made better with pictures!) Now that it is a New Year, everyone is making their “New Year” resolutions, I see the same resolutions that I hear every year: eating healthy, exercising, and reconnecting with old friends. This part of the year tends to annoy me. Naturally, I am not saying that striving for health and friendship is annoying, I have those things and will continue to work and improve on them, but by having the same goal every year… that leads me to believe that all those things you wanted for yourself in the past year didn’t work out, because if they did then why would you make the same resolution?
My dear Brother-in-Law and the Bridesmaids
While I haven’t yet decided where this year will take me, I think it always important to take a step back and move forward with baby steps.  For example, my new brother-in-law’s goal this year is to remember to put the DVD’s back in their container after he is finished with them. I would be over the moon if my dog would learn to go to the bathroom outside. The small things in life.
Each year has their own set trials and tribulations, try not to dwell on the past, the what-ifs, if-onlys, instead focus on what’s happening in the here-and-now: Don’t take things so personally. Take chances. And as my friend has told me twice this month: History favors the bold &life is short.
 
Ridin' a dino at the Creation Museum
I hope that this year continues to be that of travel. I’ve already driven down to Louisville twice, up to Dayton tonight, Nashville soon to visit the Parthenon Museum, and Ireland in October. 

Keep Calm and Jump on an Airplane.

More misadventures? Adventures old friend.

Over and out.