Misuse of the Mails

With the exception of the AARP membership that I got when I was seventeen, this is possibly the weirdest thing that I have ever received in the mail:

I don't know why.

'MURICA!

Happy Independence Day, America! Today, I am thankful for my freedom and to the people who have died to make it so.

So here's a sweet picture I took back in 2005 when I lived in a neat place:

Pretty!

Being 24 years old and sitting on the National Mall to watch light balls explode over monuments? SUPER COOL. 

Being 33 and watching light balls explode over a golf course? SUPER BORING.

Also, Mike bought some cases of 'MURICA water:

Now THAT'S how you celebrate freedom.

Oh Sweet God!

I was working at the Medical School these past few months, and there are ALL SORTS of things that I encountered on a daily basis that defy explanation.

Trust me.

But here's a fun example: This is a photograph that hangs in the Dean's office space, and I am just assuming that it's a class of future doctors, NOT a class of future psychopaths. But every time that I walk by, I almost want to duck out of the way because it is fucking CREEPY.

Not so bad, right? Well...

OMG.

Clearly he is trying to STEAL MY SOUL.

Oh, HAI.

I have been BUSY. With THINGS. Important THINGS.

...

Not really. I'm just lazy.

Anyway, I'm not making excuses for LIVING my LIFE - I just thought that I'd let you know that I am, indeed, still alive. And chock full of stories!

Like yesterday, I saw books on the side of the road. They were spine down, pages fluttering in the wind, and I was both incredibly sad and seething with anger. THOSE POOR BOOKS. What kind of monster did this to you?

I mean, I was more upset about dead books on the side of the road than I usually am about dead deer and groundhogs and squirrels. Which says something about me? I don't know.

Anyway, it's SUMMER and it's AWESOME and life is GOOD. And I'm going to be better about this here blog thing. 

I'm Heather! I'm Disgusting!

Mike's bathroom has a better shower than mine. Mine is a tub shower with a shower curtain, and it's very nice, but his is a step-in, with sliding doors and little seats! It has a sauna effect, and if you're cold, it's the best place to be to get your blood flowing. He was in Dallas this past week for work, and I practically moved in there. For REASONS.

Sure, we could share - we did for a while. But take the fact that I have to get up earlier than him and couple it with the fact that he has a hard time falling back asleep once I'm making all sorts of noise in the bathroom that is just steps away from the bed, and you've got a very cranky boyfriend. 

The condo has two and a half bathrooms (I KNOW!), and so I carted all of my girly crap into the other full bath and set up shop. 

Mike's shower also has the distinct advantage of not being clogged with my hair.

So... 

I am usually pretty good about dealing with issues as they arise, but when said issues dictate my getting dirty or being uncomfortable, I tend to ignore them for far longer a period of time than I would most anything else. Example: cleaning out the fridge (I've actually paid my sister-in-law to do it for me before). 

Case in point - a majorly clogged drain.

You know how when your shower fails to drain as quickly as before? How you basically end up ankle deep in your own filth-water because it's failing to drain at an acceptable rate? Yeah, I am not going to tell you how long I allowed that to go on before I finally did something about it. But definitely be aware that there is a reason for the title of this post.

After a particularly shitty day, I was NOT leaving the house again. My shower that morning had been disgusting and I knew that it needed to be dealt with. But Mike had used the rest of the Drano weeks before.

To the internets!

I soon discovered that I could use household products - products I actually had on hand - for a more natural, chemical-free solution: baking soda and vinegar.

Basically, I made an erupting volcano in my bathtub. (Of course, this was after I used a hanger to remove all of the hair from the drain, leaving me dry heaving for a good five minutes. IT WAS SO GROSS.)

And you guys? The erupting volcano worked so well! Here's what you need:

• 2 cups baking soda
• 4 cups boiling water
• 1 cup white vinegar

Steps:

1. Pour one cup of baking soda down the drain
2. Pour two cups of boiling water down the drain and wait a few minutes. Apparently, this mixture helps to clean all of the slimy gunk from the pipes.
3. Pour the remaining baking soda down the drain, followed by the cup of vinegar. Immediately plug the drain, because it's volcano time! You'll hear sizzling from the chemical reaction going on in your pipes (dirty!), and little bubbles might escape. Give it a few minutes.
4. Unplug and pour more boiling water down the drain.
5. Repeat if necessary, re: you are disgusting like me.

Enjoy!

Fucktons of Snow and Asshole Kids

Southeastern Michigan got a fuckton of snow over the last few days, and the temperatures have dropped so dramatically that things have practically shut down. Except for my job! Nope, we never, ever, ever close.

Never, ever, ever.

Knowing this, I woke up earlier than usual, spent a good twenty minutes cleaning the FOOT of snow off of my car, and cautiously drove to work on a near-empty freeway. The roads weren't bad at all, in that I-94 is a free-for-all kind of thing, and I managed to get to work early.

And yet, I was the ONLY PERSON in my office to show up to work today even though the majority of my coworkers live in this city. This city that has reliable public transportation. That is free to all employees.

But if the boss gives you the option of working from home, I'm guessing that most people will take it. Except if the email is sent twenty minutes after you've arrived at work.

Balls.

But some people did trickle in over the course of the next few hours - mostly people from other departments, but whatever. One doctor showed up for a meeting for which only one person actually showed up. Because the schools were closed, he brought his preschooler with him to the meeting, and left him near my desk for over an hour.

He immediately turned on an iPad. At - what I thought was - top volume. After about a half hour of Mickey Mouse and his shriller-than-shrill voice, I had had enough.

"Sweetie, could you turn the volume down a little?"

His response, after slowly looking up at me with a frown?

"It already IS down a little." 

And then he turned it UP.

I don't have children. I don't know anything about how difficult it is to raise children, and I certainly would never be one of those dicks who try to give advice on child-rearing. But. I do know the difference between "being a four year-old" and "being a complete asshole of a child."

GAH.