Truckin'

Not really.
Today's ride was great.  I left a little earlier than I normally do, but wanted the extra time to take my time.  The green belt was alive with the sounds of "morning"s.  
IT.  WAS.  AMAZING.  There hasn't been anything that refreshing for a long time!  Nearly everyone I passed by going either direction made eye contact, nodded, smiled and said "Morning!".  IT.  WAS.  AMAZING.  By the end of my ride I was in such a great mood!  So many people being so nice, smiling, everyone enjoying the air, the city, nature!  You can't help but smile!! 


Lovely. Period. 


And These bad boy's rolled in just as I got home! Perfection!

Morning!

Daiquiri.

Impending Doom.

I feel as if it's all over.  

There is a kitchen timer in life, and 30 my friends (Hi, Layne) is the ding.  There is nothing better than pre-thirty.  You will never be as fun as pre-thirty.  You will never be as skinny (today however it is clear this is true) as pre-thirty.  Its all over after pre-thirty.  
I know it's not true, but thats how I feel.  Thirty isn't old, heck 38 isn't old, really.  I know life does not end at thirty.  I know 30-39 will probably be a better decade than 20-29, but that is not how it feels.  It feels, scary.  It feels as if I haven't done anything, that I should have done at least 3 times the amount of good, of saving*, of helping, of bettering, of reading, of listening, of being nicer, of anything.  There are 4 months left..........

*there is no saving....  

Full Circle

Remember last night? I do:


Got this:

Saw This:

Met that Idol Lady:

Watched This:

Snagged This:

Then tonight: 
Thought this:

Oh great,  ______'s are having a _____.  Another person who is too short minded to even go into a bar.  That will probably do us (the world) good in the future. 

Wow, self,  you sure are judging from your high chair of sitting in your bed at 9:00 with a popsicle in your hand.  What the hell good are you doing to brighten this life from that perch? Nothing. NOTHING.

Self, Suck it.  Go show some damn grace already.

Reason #103

You can't get this:

When you have this:

Village Person

I wish this were construction on my house that I:
1. Could afford.
2. Had hired to make my house cooler.
3. Didn't have to put up with because some neighbor is pissed their cable is a little wacky.
4. Didn't ever have to see the ugly green box ever again.

Spring has....

Sprung?

My thumb is, well, black as death....

The tomato plants aren't too bad....

But I had to spend $$ on others.... 

Jalapeno...

Basil....

Rant.

I have to.  Apparently.

Photos to negate the negativity………..

Here is the thing I like about this blogging business so far- I can rant and rage as much as I want, and if you don’t like it- don’t read it.

It’s not Facebook- it’s blogbook.  I will not annoy anyone with what I say (unless they read it) I can post as many or as little things as I like.  If I choose to post a lot then nobody seems to get mad at how “annoying” I am (why do people get so mad at the fact that there are facebookers who always post and facebookers who never post?  Are we not supposed to have fun on Facebook?)

I do however feel that any time I decide to write a new post where I rant and rage, by the time that I have all the things I will say in my head, I do not need to post it, nor do I want to because who wants a mass of pages of negativity?  This idea is not proven by the fact that out of all the blogs I have written more than half of them are me bitching about something.  Granted, those are “funny rant/rages”.  Still counts as negative, yea?

I keep thinking “don’t post that it’s negative, and don’t you want your blog to be fun and positive?  A place where people (Layne) like to go??”

Having said all that, here we go*:  

If you respect me, I will respect you.  If you do not, I will not.

If you have an apt at 10:00 do not leave your house at 10:00 and call me at 10:05 and tell me that you are stuck in traffic.  It’s Saturday, at 10 am there is no traffic, you are lazy and did not want to come to the appointment that YOU made.  

Do not lie to me.  Just don’t, not to anyone.  It’s rude, you will get caught (a lesson Mom always tried to teach me but I never learned)

Do not steal from me.  It’s pretty crappy.

Why don’t you think about not screwing someone over?

How about maybe being self sufficient?

How about not pretending to like someone so they buy you dinner?  Because guess what, more grace equals more love!

Don’t be a jerk all the time.  Sometimes (like in a blog rager) it’s okay.  As long as you listen to Joe and try to be full of grace the rest of the time.  It takes practice to be full of grace all the time.

*This may all have to do with the fact that I got up at 5:30am to be to work by 7:00.  Sorry.

I could watch this a thousand times....

It's like 10,000 spoons when all you need is a spork.

Remember when I came home fat?


I do.


So then I drowned my sorrows in some clips from Cougar Town and an Episode of Glee.


Four hours later I decided I should eat.


Enter fridge.  What? nothing to eat?  I've got noodles.  I've got spices.  I've got sauce.  I've got a meal.


So then I stirred the meal.  With a wooden spoon.


Thought: Isn't it ironic that the wooden spoon is one of my favorite kitchen utensils?

Lil' Jerks.

Slugs suck.  Here I thought they were all fun and slimy but no NOOOOO! They eat all the plants you have been growing for months.  Jackasses.


So, the slugs have been chillin' in my yard for weeks now and I was cool with it.  Until last night.  Last night I discovered that there was a slug ON MY JALAPENO PLANT!  So YOU have been the lil' bastard chewin' on the leaves! Jerk.


Kev-Kev pipes in with: "Ohhh put beer out and they will drink their death!"  Huh?


Yep turns out that slugs like the smell/taste of beer too bad it kills the living crap out of them! YAHOO!


So.... busted out a Coors Light and 20 min later:

I now have fresh beers in 4 little dishes for the second time- they will ALL die. 


Drink your last drink of delicious death, jerks.  Don't they even look cute on the death pool? Baby antennae! 

Well, I guess I will just put my pajamas on.

Today I woke up made a sweet sweet breakfast sandwich.
It included: a bagel, an egg, some ham, and some swiss cheese.
What it did not include: dog vomit.
Strange right? Right. 

So I came home from the ol' wizzork and Ike The Dog was all bouncy, but not his regular bounce, and not his Oh-Crap-Sorry-I-Ate-That-Horseshoe-Shaped-Wiggle-Bounce  Apparently it was his Let-Me-Out-I-Need-To-Eat-Some-Grass-To-Settle-My-Stomach-Bounce. 


Awesome. 


So I let the darn guy out and he ate some grass, I then moseyed over to the living room to find the pile(s).  Because when a dog gets sick he wants to eat the yard?  Weird. But true.  
So what did I find?  TWO!!! Two piles of the good stuff, and a very chewed/clean wrapper from some swiss cheese.  Damn it's all my fault. 
At least it wasn't on my bed. #someonebuymenewflooring

Hope the guy feels better.  Made him some food to settle the tummy.  And my reward/punishment?  Gas.  Lots of gas, thanks Ikerfacesquishypants.  Thanks.