A fine mess.

These last few weeks have been a giant mess.
Bunny is still doing well, but everything else is kinda getting to that point where I just watch it pile up and burst into flames.
Seriously, I excel at a lot of things; one of those things I excel at is fucking up.

I need to crawl off into a hole and not come out for several weeks… or months.
But I can't do that, can I?
I never could just drop it all and run away-that inner drill sergeant kicks in and tells me not to be such a pansy and quit whining … so I'll post my turkey day recap eventually (yes, it was a mess as well, but a mostly tasty mess and no one got botulism, which is something I suppose) then I might have to be quiet for a while.
My  whining grates on my nerves after about 20 minutes, and I've usually irritated the shit out of everyone about 13 minutes previously.



Got it (and apologized profusely, again, to my ever suffering UPS guy) last night.

I knew I wasn’t going to get to it last night, but I had it on the list for tonight and tomorrow. What I didn’t count on was Tex screwing up his back at work, not because I expected him to put this together… feh, I’ve done more than this on my own for the past 20 years thankyouverymuch, but because he is so bitchy and pissy when he is sick or hurt.
One thing goes wrong? He’s negative and pissy for an hour.
So when I started looking into the parts of the hutch in the boxes, he put on his martyr voice and said he’d put it together. I told him while I snooping around the boxes that if was going to act like Marvin the paranoid android on the rag he could drag his happy ass out of my kitchen and let me do what I wanted. So he left, as he knows better than to argue with me when I *actually am* the one PMSing.

I managed to clean the area where it was going to go and moved books, wine, napkins that need a good wash, silver and other sundries around to give me working space until I saw a 9 foot spider with a mohawk scoot off into the wilds of the kitchen.
So I allowed as how I could work on this tomorrow.

(Though it won’t be perfect, one very visible corner is a bit munged from shipping. sigh. We’ll see if they will give me another one. I’m still putting the damn thing together for turkey day. )

Reject featured in the SJ Mercury News

[Original Article]
[Also on Vallejo Times Herald Online]

Goldston: Abandoned on a Tennessee road, dog became a lifelong companion
Linda Goldston

Mercury News
Article Launched: 08/25/2007 01:34:11 AM PDT

Reject and Timmy
(Click photo to enlarge)
Tim Jones and his beloved service dog Reject. ( Judy Santiago )

On a dark February night, with sleet and rain pounding the windshield, Tim Jones was on his way home back to Memphis.

He was about to make a turn when he saw something that looked like “a frozen ice ball” sitting on the side of the road.

“The only thing that bothered me is that it had eyes,” says Jones, who now lives in Vallejo. “God in his infinite wisdom told me to stop.”

It was a little black dog that had been shot in the chest, sitting under a sign that said “Sharp Curve Ahead.” Icicles had frozen on his fur.

Jones got a towel from the back of his car and placed the little dog on the front seat.

“He yawned real big and lay down. When I put the car in drive, he raised his head and looked at me,” Jones says. “I petted him and said, `You’re all right now.’ ”

When Jones took the dog to the vet the next morning, he feared he’d never see him again. “This dog is in such shape, he probably needs to be put down,” he told the vet.

“They called in a few days and wanted to know exactly where I’d found this dog. (They said) he was very highly trained. When the UPS guy would deliver some boxes, the dog would sniff the box on the top, then push it away and sniff the next one,” Jones says.

The vet made calls to police and drug agencies in several surrounding states, but no drug-sniffing dogs were missing. And the dog did not have the tattoo certified drug dogs have. Because the dog had been found in an area known for drug farms
and dealers, the vet said the little dog probably was a trained guard dog.

He asked Jones if he wanted to come pick him up.

“Out came this beautiful dog, big brown eyes, fuzzy tail up in the air,” Jones says. “The vet said `go say hello’ to the dog. He went over, sat down next to me and put his head in my lap. The vet said, `If you’ll take the dog and give me $6 for the rabies tag, I’ll throw the nearly $900 bill in the garbage.’ ”

The dog had been shot with a rifle and a shotgun, but the bullet had gone straight through, and the shotgun pellets were not life-threatening. The vet estimated that he was about 3 years old.

Jones named him Reject, and the friendship that began 13 years ago on that freezing, rainy night became a lifeline when Jones lost his eyesight for awhile. When it came back, he could only see very low contrast below his nose.

Reject was retrained to be Jones’ service dog, and he served with honor and extraordinary loyalty until July 1, when he died in Jones’ arms.

The dog traveled the world with Jones, sitting at his feet on numerous planes, and he became well known among pilots and flight attendants.

“Everybody knew his name,” Jones says. “Nobody knew my name.”

Reject did not let Jones out of his sight inside the house and “put himself in death’s way” three times, using his body to block Jones from being hit by cars.

“This was truly a match made in heaven,” says Judy Santiago of Sunnyvale, a close friend. “Tim’s peripheral vision is very limited, and while he can see straight ahead, he doesn’t see anything below his nose. Reject took over that portion of his sight and became his eyes on the ground.”

Reject also never failed to go over to a senior citizen or a child who was ill. He’d put his head in their lap and just sit there.

“My nickname for him was Little Man,” Jones says. The night he died, “I was petting him and scratching him. I said, `Little Man, you won’t hurt anymore. If you need to go, go.’ He raised up and opened his eyes and rubbed my elbow with the top of his head. He looked at me and then he was gone.

“He died with his fuzzy tail wagging.”

Contact Linda Goldston at lgoldston at mercurynews.com or (408) 920-5862

I just wanted to say

that except for one utterly clueless person*, no one has really let the HP7 spoilers fly… and that gives me hope for the human race (except for the aforementioned person).

*Even though I had already read the book, I just couldn’t, on principle, let him continue on in his LOUD voice in the common area the sentence that started with “Well, I don’t want to spoil anything for you but when I read that [name of person] and [name of person] died…” I leaped up from my chair and said “STOP!!” What if I hadn’t read it yet?
Jeebus, are you kidding me with that? Did he even hear what JUST came out of his mouth about not spoiling it?
THINK people.

“Tenor Jerry Hadley Dead at 55”

“The American-born Hadley was considered a world-class tenor, singing roles that required an agile, lyric voice. He sang works as varied as composer John Harbison’s “The Great Gatsby” and Mozart’s “Cosi Fan Tutte.””
…and a particularly good version of “Showboat” that I’ve listened to obsessively for the past 20 years.
[via SFGate.com]