Welcome to the new blog. I'm upgrading Movable Type and using Chrissierocks' base directory as the experiment. Check back here over the next couple of weeks if you want to see what the new style is going to look like...
In the meantime to get to the current Chrissierocks go here.
-Kev
I so don’t understand Ebay. It is inconceivable to me what people will pay for my junk. Don’t get me wrong, I love it. I just don’t understand it.
In the last week or so, Kevin has sold over $150 bucks of junk online. Take, for example, our current auction item. A can opener. Yup, you heard me. It’s an automatic can opener. We have never used it but figured we’d give it a shot on Ebay. How much do you think it’s going for? $5? $10? $15? Nope. Right now, it’s sitting at $24.50. Don’t believe me, see for yourself. I admit that Kevin does a nice layout and our secret weapon is the Free Shipping but still. It’s a can opener for pete’s sake..
If that doesn’t outrage you, what about this. Kevin and Josh went to Best Buy two years ago and picked up a fighter pilot computer game from the close-out bin. They each paid $10 for the game. Kevin gets tired of it, sticks it on Ebay, and it sells for $37. Yes, you heard me, two years later a $10 game is selling for $37 bucks. At this rate, we’ll be able to pay off the house in..... hmmm, maybe not.
But if you haven’t jumped on the ebay wagon, I urge you to do so. People are auction crazy and will buy anything. I don’t know how long this craze will last so you better get out there are start selling. You won’t regret it.
I have decided to give my house a make over. Starting from the top and moving to the basement. Each week, I’ll tackle another room with no short cuts. I’m notorious for stuffing loose ends into closets and drawers believing that if it is out of sight, I won’t have to worry about it. Of course, this makes it very difficult to find anything in our house and opening closet doors is quite a hazard.
So this week is upstairs bedroom week. Yesterday, I pulled out all my winter/fall clothing and replaced it with my spring/summer stuff. Then, as if by magic, I got a call from a local charity saying their truck would be in the area to pick up any clothing donations. How weird it that??? So now I’m going to weed through my clothes looking for donations.
Of course, I hate the weeding process. My technique is to pile all of the out of season clothes on my bed. The obvious keepers go straight into a storage box but there are always questionables. Things you bought but never wear, items that are now worn out or out of style and, my least favorite, items that have mysteriously shrunk. (No snide comments please!) And so I’ll probably spend a good afternoon trying on jeans and skirts, tops and slacks, keeping those that still fit and look ok and passing on the items that I no longer need.
And my shoes! I had no idea how many pairs of shoes I owned. I’m embarrassed to admit to the actual number but it’s well over 20. And even though I know I won’t wear them all, I just can’t seem to get rid of any of them. I think I could have some kind of shoe disorder. Judging from the numbers in my closet, it appears to be rather advanced.
So I figure my house has seven rooms (not counting the bathrooms or laundry area). By my calculations, I should have this place in tip-top shape around, oh, mid June. Of course, that assumes that I can clean a room a week. As it is already Tuesday and I’m not even done with my first closet yet, that may be an unrealistic expectation!
I am going through Baby D withdrawal and it's bad. Poor Artie is cowering behind the sofa and both cats shot through the pet door and out to freedom hours ago. They all seem terrified of the idea of me snuggling them any more but I can't help myself.
I have just a few pics from my parents camera for your enjoyment. First, feast your eyes on Baby D and Auntie Chrissie. I know he looks a little scared in this picture but there was a noise outside or something. He loved being held by me. Honestly! He especially loved being smooshed. Again, there's that wierd look on his face. Don't ask me why.
Finally, here he is on his new baby quilt. Yes, there is in infamous baby quilt that nearly caused me to go blind. It was, however, fun to do and I can't wait for another baby so I can try my hand on another design. There's a better picture of the quilt somewhere but I can't quite seem to find it.
The trip seemed far too short really. I already miss that smooth baby cheek and the smell of baby power on fine hair. Definately going to be visiting SD again soon. Don't worry, there are about 50 more pictures on the way so come back soon!
The little baby is crying. We wore him out with all the kisses and pinching today and now he’s tired and just can’t fall asleep. It must take a lot of energy to be that cute so I don’t blame him for needing his cutie rest. They tell me he woke up last night but I didn’t hear a thing. Personally, I think he is an angle boy. So sweet and mild tempered, he’ll just lie by you and watch you talk or work with the utmost interest. He’s quite an observer this one. Even something boring like a spot on the ceiling will capture his attention for minutes on end.
The best part of the day was went Baby D giggled. His first giggle and I was there to witness it. Now, you must understand that this boy loves his father. When Big D comes into the room, Little D just can’t stop smiling. Big D was explaining to his son that tomorrow the Padres are going to have a double header which meant 6 hours of back to back baseball action. This news made Little D so happy, he added a little giggle to his giant smile. Dan looked at me, I looked at Dan, and we were astounded. He giggled! Of course, he then promptly developed the hiccups from all the double header excitement which pretty much ruled out any possibility of a giggle repeat. But I did get to witness baby history. Yes!
Called home and Kevin is not there. I figure he’s probably driving around looking for a pet store that sells red beta fish. You see, I dreamed about Toaster Struedels which, as everyone knows, means a fish death in the family so I’m not holding out much hope for every seeing the real Charlie again.
Maybe tomorrow, Baby D will take his first step or say my name. How cool would that be?!?!
Oh dear. I appear to have left my copy of Bridget Jones' Diary in the bathroom and it seems Kevin has gotten to it. At least, I think he's being british. Or it's australian. With Kevin, it's hard to tell.
After one day with Baby D, I can confirm that he is as cute (if not cuter) than in the pictures. Actually, it isn't his cuteness so much as his size that hits you. This kid is
B-I-G. We're talking one giant mound of sweet, soft, smoshy, baby fat. When Suzy changes his diaper, she has to hold his leg chub out of the way, fasten the tabs, and then artfully drape the baby fat around the diaper line. I am not even kidding about this. Even his feet are fat. Don't know how that's possible but it is.
He is a remarkable calm and sweet baby and even the invasion of his house by strangers didn't seem to phase him. He just watched us and smiled and smiled and smiled. So sweet it's almost unbearable. I just want to smoosh him. Am working very hard to control that impusle. I'm taking lots of pictures and will post them soon so you can see the baby and his auntie. We look alike with our pug noses and chubby cheeks.
Have I mentioned that this kid is cute?
Pooka Jones' Diary
Day #1
Bugger, dumped far too much tiny little fish food into sad Charlie's bowl. Will have to feign ignorance when bloody thing turns bottom's up Monday.
Ate lasagna for dinner (again). Can't quite get hang of micro-something or other. Either over cook dish and end up eating runny cheese noodle thing or under cook it and bite into ice cold pasta blah. Will either figure it out for lunch tomorrow or lose 5 lbs from starvation. Might have to break down and go for burrito binge at local taqueria.
Dog is still moping around house. Every time I try and play with pooch he just looks at me and says, "mom was much more fun than you, dad." What does the frelling cheez want? Maybe needs another walkie in the pouring rain again. Oh joy must put on wool socks.
Doing friend thing with Josh & Kat tomorrow. Just another reminder that wife is living large down in sunny SD. Hmm, that reminds me, I must remember to do laundry tomorrow. Have no clean nickers.
Right, Farscape on in a few minutes. Banger and all that Aerun girl is crackie. Mental note, must put another shrimp on the barbie tomorrow.
Cheers
Ack! I forgot to feed the fish! ... Ok. Little Charlie looked somewhat thinner than I remember but at least he's full now. How much do you feed him again? Oh well, he'll either be one plump pisces or one floating fin by the time you get back.
Have fun in SD.
ps - I unclogged the sink ;)
I am back home in PV again. This place is like a strange time warp where nothing changes. My room still holds my old paperbacks, the same old glasses are in the same cupboard, and my parents still don't have cable. It's a very strange trip back to the 80's.
Tomorrow is the big day when I get my greedy smurf hands on that cubby BabyD. I'm so excited it's like Christmas Eve. I'm convinced the sooner I go to bed, the sooner I'll be in San Diego. The bad news is that the rain has followed me here. Yes, I come all the way to LA and it's overcast, windy, and cold. Grrrr. Very unfair!
Checked in with Kev who informs me that the dog won't eat and is moping around the house missing me. Kevin, however, seemed quite chipper. I am conviced, however, that when I return on Sunday, all my plants will be dead, my fish will be floating, and the house will be littered with pizza boxes and empty cans. Actually, as I left, I told Kevin, "don't forget to feed the fish." To which he replied, "we have a fish??" Yes, this is my life.
So that's all for now. I'm going to curl up on the bunkbeds, read the old signatures, and dream of fat little baby legs. (I really am rather strange.)
I learned two very important lessons today. First, my neighbors cheat. Second, the post office at 11am on Wednesday is a wonderful experience. I know both of these facts are very shocking and I apologize in advance.
Yesterday, I took the pooch on our afternoon walk a little later than normal. As we strolled down the streets, I felt that familiar cloud of envy and self-loathing settle around me. I walked down my street, looking at perfect green lawns, perky flowers free of pests, and rounded healthy bushes. Every step I took had me doing a mental comparison. My roses were small with only three slug eaten buds - this house had a huge bush bursting with flowers. My lawn had bare spots and moss. That one could have been used as a putting green. It was horrible. And then I turned the corner and there they were.
Gardeners.
Yes, you heard me. Gardeners. Professional gardeners no less. There were groups of five or six working on a single lawn. Fertilizing, pulling weeds, pruning bushes, and deadheading flowers. Up and down the street, as far as the eye could see, they were out in full force. When they saw me, I think they looked rather guilty. They wouldn’t meet my eye and hurried back to their trucks. (Of course, Artie was doing his best to eat them so I suppose that could have explained why they ran.)
I suddenly felt the spring ease back into my step as I realized the reason my lawn looks so horrid in comparison is not because I am a lazy gardener. Oh no, the fact that I forget to water, weed only once a month, and prune like a blind person suddenly meant nothing. I realized, I was an amateur competing with professionals! Of course my yard sucks. That’s cause it’s just me working on it. It’s like taking a high school basketball player and throwing them into the NBA. Of course they’d get trampled.
I can’t wait for the weekend when my sly neighbors are “working” in their yard. Now, I can walk by and hold my head high knowing it’s all a fiction. While they gather their perfect flowers to arrange in stunning crystal vases, I can take pride in my single slug eaten bloom thank you very much.
And as for the post office, it was wonderful. I walked in to no line. The teller was friendly and joked. He actually laughed. I swear. It was surreal. Usually, I’d go to the post office only when absolutely necessary since I had to do so on a weekend. I’d end up in a line that wrapped around the building filled with screaming kids and people who have never heard of deodorant. At the front, there’d be five or six stations, only two of which were open. One would have an old man trying to mail a package he wrapped with scotch tape (which causes postal workers to have a fit). The other would have a lady with 50 boxes all going somewhere different. Makes you want to pull your own teeth out.
So you can imagine my surprise when I went this morning and found myself laughing with the teller like we’re old friends. If I never go to the post office on a weekend again I’ll be overjoyed.
Oh yes, my new bud behind the counter informs me that stamps are going up on June 20th to .37 cents. Grrrr. I still have .32 stamps I haven’t used. Very grumpy.
