Half-Assed Weekend



By way of The Simple Dude, it's a half-assed weekend post. I haven't done one in awhile. Lately it's because I've been blogging my damn brains out with this A-Z Challenge for April. Six days a week of blogging and having to come up with a post for every letter, it's nearly enough to drive one ape shit. But I'm also enjoying it, so it appears to be a catch-22.

I figured I'd let you guys in on the details of my new job, aka job number 3, aka vet office receptionist. For some of my newer followers here's a quick recap: Two weeks ago a vet came out, and long story short, he told me to turn in an application at the clinic. Next day he calls me for an interview for that afternoon. I was hired the day after that. Without a real interview, no applications, no resume's, nada. And now I'm up to three jobs. We shall see how long my sanity lasts.

Anyway, training has been going well. I've been there about three days a week, answering phones, setting appointments, and charging people ridiculous amounts of money for vet services rendered (or livestock vaccinations, wormers, joint supplements, and food). I still have a lot to learn, but everyone has been helpful and patient with me.

No one I work with has any idea about the blog, and I won't tell them, either. That way, they won't know if I'm talking about them. Or the customers. Or the pets. Or any of it.

I actually got left all alone for about two hours today (Saturday), as the only doctor was out on farm calls all afternoon. During the week, there are four vets. On the weekend it's just one, and we usually won't send them out on farm calls. But this time we didn't have a choice. And the tech today had to go run supplies to the vet, so she was gone about two hours or so. That left me. All by myself. I about had a panic attack. And rightfully so, as a guy came in to buy a 40lb bag of dog food and I couldn't for the life of me find the damn dog food in the computer system. I tried "science diet", "dog food", "dry food", "hill's", and all sorts of combinations of those listed. I called the tech, but she was out of service due to the passes she had to climb to get to the vet. I eventually had to write up manual receipt and apologized to the guy, who was very patient and understanding and was even trying to help me figure it out - because I couldn't even run his credit card because I had no idea how much to charge! The tech eventually called back and told me it was under "maintenance". When all she got was silence from my end she said, "Yeah. It made no sense to me either!" So, apparently, puppy food is under "growth", adult food is under "maintenance" and senior food is, oddly enough, "senior". What. The. Fuck. Who designed that system and what the hell where they smoking?! So I charged the man's account, so that he can come back next week and pay for it. Or he'll get a bill. Either way, we want his money.

I'll be back in there three days next week. And in the middle of the week I'll be helping my grandparents with their publication. Now it's time to put it all together. I feel torn, because the clinic wants me there to train, and my grandparents want me to be with them to learn how stuff gets done. Hopefully things will settle into a nice routine, and everybody's happy.

I get tomorrow (Sunday) off, thanks to my grandmother. I get to sleep in, do laundry and clean house. Yeah, you know you're jealous. Admit it.

Half-Assed Weekend

I awoke on Friday morning to go feed cows, to find that my cat, Miss Harriet, was acting strangely. She got off the couch to go hide behind a chair. After a little bit, she skulked off to the bedroom to hide under my bed. My grandparents offered to let me work from home today after feeding, to keep an eye on her. I came home and couldn't find her. I searched until I found her in the spare bathroom, between the toilet and the wall and behind the door from the spare room. I had to sit on the toilet for 15 minutes to get her to come out. She continued to play hide and seek all morning until she finally took my lap hostage. Odd. I checked her out, and found no sore spots, she wasn't off her feed. I came up with two options: a) She was somehow freaked out about the tsunami hitting the coast of CA . . . on the opposite side of the state, or b) She was totally faking it in order to get my lap for more than an hour out of the day.

I've been contemplating (which is scary by itself) that it's time for a new "psycho" post. Many of you may remember my Psycho Suzi posts, and I know that you enjoyed them. For some of my newer followers, she was a roommate of mine in college. If you haven't perused those posts yet, I suggest you do, you'll be entertained. So, if y'all think you're up for it, I just might oblige you and entertain you once more.

While I was home cat-sitting my freaky kitty, I decided to make some more homemade chocolate chip cookies. Let me just say that spending a part of the afternoon making yummy cookies while blasting Rascal Flatts and shakin' my ghetto booty makes for a great afternoon.

So, that's it for my half-ass post (which of course was started by the great and powerful Simple Dude).  I think I will leave you with a picture of the pass near Sticksville. It's quite a pretty drive, although not too fun to drive in bad weather.

Just so you know, I was not driving . . . I was the passenger when I took this.   :o)

Half-Assed Weekend: Photo Evidence

Alright! I have no idea what the hell was wrong with Blogger yesterday that the picture uploader wouldn't work at all. But, it's working today, so for my Half-Ass Weekend Post (Thanks to the All Powerful Simple Dude!), so I will post my pictures of my shitscapade from yesterday.

Since I know you all enjoyed the story of my faceplant in the cow mudshit that I wrote yesterday, I know you will enjoy the pictures. Now, I must remind you that there are no pictures of my sorry ass kneeling/sitting in this wonderful mixture of cow shit and mud that was basically quicksand as we were concerned about getting all of the bulls out of the pen that I was trapped in and getting me out of the mudshit with all my limbs (and boots) attached.

This is the shitmud I was stuck in. We're talking nearly two feet deep and it sucks you in. Literally.

Me in all my muddy glory. I'm just glad my grandfather didn't ask for the shot of my derriere.

Up close of my boots. Which are supposed to be black.The mud was as tall as my boots, then I had to kneel in it until rescued.

 

 

 

 

I had to wash off the boots before I could go into mudroom to change out of my shitty clothes.

 

 

 

So, there you have it. Photo evidence of my little shitscapade.

Y'all can run along now and be ever so thankful that you don't have shitmud to contend with. Have a lovely weekend!

Half-Assed Weekend 2/5/11

I am obsessed. I admit it. Although I cannot blame myself entirely for this obsession. I have a co-worker I can blame partially. For she is equally obsessed and is fueling the fire. A couple years ago, I finally decided to be brave and enter the world of Jane Austen. You men out there roll your eyes all you want. I first read Pride and Prejudice, and once I reached the half-way point in the book, I literally could not put the book down. I wound up getting about two hours of sleep before going into work, but I had to know. I had to know how it ended. I quickly devoured her remaining five novels, and loved them as well. But none touched me like Pride and Prejudice. 

After reading each novel, I watched it's movie counter-part. And naturally, my favorite was BBC's miniseries version of Pride and Prejudice, with Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy. It's 5 hours long but it is, quite literally, the book. Verbatim. I think that's why I love it so. This movie is watched quite often, sometimes just the second disc. Pathetic, party of one.

A couple months ago, this particular co-worker mentioned to me this book she was reading, called The Pemberly Chronicles. She recommend I read it when she was done, and loaned it to me. I thoroughly enjoyed it. And this past week she said the same thing about Mr. &  Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy: Two Shall Become One. She said that she could not put it down and highly recommend I read it, too. I did. In two days. Well, three. I read 90% of it on Friday. Again, I literally couldn't put it down. My co-worker and I love the story, and agree that even though these two characters are absolutely sickening and obnoxiously happy and in love, we can't get enough.

Therefore, I have decided I will not settle for anyone who is not Mr. Darcy. At least, my version of him. In some fashion. As soon as I can, I am running out and purchasing the next in this set so that I fuel my obsession even more.

I think . . . I may have a problem, people. The entire world is either Twilight or Justin Beiber obsessed and I'm running around obsessed about a book written roughly 200 years ago.

On second thought . . . maybe I don't have much of a problem at all.

Half-Assed Weekend 1/29/11

In true Simple Dude fashion, it's a half-assed weekend post.

This morning I went to Saddle Pals to freeze my ass off for a few hours. Luckily for my frozen ass I got to leave early, as they had plenty of people for the last lesson, so I climbed in my car and turned the heater on high.

My first lesson starts at 10am. When I get there a few minutes before, there's an independent rider who is just finishing up. Nearly every time he sees me, he "meets" me. As in, "Hi, I'm (insert name here)". I reply with my name. Every time. Seriously. But that's okay, because I've never actually worked with him. This morning he was quite talkative, and was telling a joke. I didn't hear it the first time because I was listening to someone else say something. He came over to me and asked if it was funny. I apologized for not hearing his joke. He was eager to tell me his joke.

Why does a chicken coup only have two doors?

I don't know. 

Because if it had four doors, it would be a chicken sedan.

Well. I laughed. Because it's just corny enough.

Happy Weekend. I'm back to packing and cleaning!

I'm A Lost Half-Asser

I feel so lost. Well, not necessarily lost. Okay, now not only am I confused, I'm also confusing you poor innocent folks out there.

 

I have to admit something. I'm technologically challenged.

 

For months, I've been wanting to add a picture to my title. Or redo my title and make it a bit snazzier. You know with a picture and maybe a different font. However, I have no idea how to make it work. I've been trying for weeks off and on. I try to put a picture up there and then the title bunches up and covers up the picture. And I can't move or change anything. I've tried using Power Point. Anyway, nothing I try seems to work. And I've pretty much given up. I even tried using the so-called "help section" of Blogger. Yeah. No help. Imagine that.

 

So, now I'm turning to my peeps for assistance. I'm sure most of you are not nearly as challenged as I am when it comes to the world of technology. I would greatly appreciate any and all help. Also, since I'm begging . . . how on earth do you folks make all those links at the top of your page. You know, like "home" "awards" "other stuff". I've tried and I can only make one. Which is pointless since you usually want to make more than one.

 

I know when I've been beaten by technology. It happens often.

 

Thanks in advance!  :o) 

Half-Assed Weekend

Not to rub this in to the poor folks freezing to death in snow banks, but I enjoyed a good portion of a 70 degree day. I spent my morning at Saddle Pals after work, and got out early from that to run a few errands before finally getting home to be able to open my windows and air out my place. Seriously. It gets stuffy in here keeping the windows closed all winter. My cat is currently sleeping in my room with the sunlight pouring on her. She's happy.

I only get one day off (that would be today), and I'm back to work on Sunday night. Yay for me. (rolls eyes dramatically)

I found out this morning that one of my favorite horses at SP, Rio, is being officially retired. I mean that literally, not "figuratively". He's 30 years old, and for a horse, that is old. His eyesight is starting to go and he's taken a couple of spills. I'll be sad to see him go, he's such a sweet old horse. 

I went to Target today to pick up a few items. I saw the most patient mother ever. Her toddler was just so excited and running around pointing at things. He ran to the tea and yelled, "TEEEEAAAA!!" His mom replied, "You really like that one, don't you?" She just followed him around the store while she shopped, saying, "Wow, that's cool", "What did I say? Walk please", "Remember, no running", "Wait for mommy, sweetie".  On my way to the checkout I saw a different mother with the opposite style. All I heard was, "Yeah, let's go ahead and cry in Target. Let's go ahead and cause a scene. That would be great. And you're the oldest. That's just great." At least the parents that shop at Target "parent" their kids. As opposed to the ones I see in Wal-Mart . . . because they don't.

My mom and I had the funniest texting conversation this afternoon:

Mom: OMG! Why does this ALWAYS happen to me? The biggest butt crack ever!

Me: Um, what?

Mom:  Oh it was disgusting.....and IN the grocery store!

Me: LMAO!!

Mom: omg! Fat guy....funny blue pants buttoned under his fat belly and a red shirt too short for his belly! After he left the checker started singing "I'm too sexy for my shirt". I laughed and said  "you should have been in the soup isle!"

Me:  LMAO Niiiice.

Obviously her portion of the conversation involved real words. I was too busy laughing my ass off at her expense.

 

 

Half-Ass Number 2

Since there are two days in a weekend, I guess I can do two half-ass posts. Does that make a whole post?

 

 

 

This weekend, I watched Jurassic Park for the first time in ages. I have to say, that this movie is by far (in my humble opinion) one of the best movies ever. I mean it. Ever. It came out in 1993 I think, and let me tell you, those damn dinosaurs still look real. And sound real. And I'm still impressed by it, and it's -what?- nearly 20 years old. Effects included.

 

I can't even say that about some of the newer films that have come out in recent years. One of them being the new Indiana Jones movie. Now, I love me some Indiana Jones, don't get me wrong. I love Harrison Ford, and Indiana Jones was the sole reason for it. But I'm sorry, the effects were totally fake. The effects in the first three were way better and the first one is 30 years old for Pete's sake. Probably because they had to think of ways to make things seem realistic. They couldn't rely on CG like they do now. They had to be inventive.

 

I'm not completely dissing the new Indy movie, I did enjoy it. And I know that CG and technology have come a very long way since these movies came out 20 or 30 years ago. I'm amazed at some of the new movies because even though I can tell more often than not what is totally fake, it's still impressive they can do what they can.

 

However, I'm still impressed by Jurassic Park. Call me weird. But they did a bang-up job with their effects.  Here's a video I found. The video I wanted wouldn't let me copy the code, and any other good ones were ruined by people putting lame-ass music over the original movie sound.

 

It's Half-Ass Time

It's time for another half-ass post - courtesy of the Simple Dude, although my post will have nothing to do with Toilet Mugs.

 

I have to wonder why some people have trouble asking for help. I was informed the other day that a co-worker of mine feels that they get "negativity" from others when they ask for help. I was a wee bit baffled by this, as I've rarely ever heard this person ask in the first place. I expressed said confusion to my manager, saying that if they had asked for the help they needed, they would have gotten it. No one knew that they needed it, therefore, we chugged along as usual. How on earth are we supposed to know that someone needs help on a bench if they don't ask? I mean, my psychic ability is for the birds. Whatever. I just nodded and said "okay" and went about my business as usual. One more month, folks, on more month.

I also wonder why someone starts something yet seems to have trouble finishing it. Last week, at the dog rescue I volunteer for, this happened. It just me and this other gal that morning, and she decided to "take charge" and be the person who lets the dogs out and bring them back in. Fine by me. It was colder than a well-digger's ass outside and it was warm in the kennel. Well, with all three outside runs full of dogs, I can't very well do three kennels at a time, so she'd come help me out. She'd clean the kennel, mop it up and when hers was ready, she'd go get the dog. Um. Dude, you forgot to give the poor dog it's breakfast and a clean water bowl. And in some cases, the meds that go in the food were forgotten, too.  And a nice clean towel to lay on (or mop up the mud from the dog runs). She did this all freaking morning. Apparently, if you want something done right, then you have to do it yourself.

I got a notice from my apartment managers today, saying that my lease is up in February. And that if I choose to renew my lease for another year, my rent itself stays the same, but my pet rent goes from $25/month to $35/month. What the fuckity fuck? My cat doesn't even do any damage. Minus the occasional hairball, she's easy. So, really all my apartment needs to to clean up after her is clean the damn carpets. My cat needs a fucking job. Also, the notice said if I choose not to renew my rent goes to market value plus $150 fee. What. The. Fuckity. Fuck. I'll be going down to the office to get that shit taken care of.

Think I could sell her hairballs online or something to pay for pet rent? Maybe shave her and sell the hair for the poor freezing hairless cats of the world?

Another Weekend, Another Half-Assed Post

By way of the Simple Dude, it's another Half-Assed weekend post.

I wrote yesterday about the pain I was in. For whatever reason, my body just so bad. Well, several Tylenol and 12 hours of sleep later, my body is back to normal. Which means, pain free. However, I now have a new gripe. What? Like you're surprised?

Okay, well, it's not a full gripe, maybe a half-gripe . . . I mean, this is a half-assed post, so maybe that makes it a half-gripe.

Moving on.

I opened my front door this morning only to be blasted my a burst of freezing air. Literally. I was on my way to Saddle Pals to get my horse fix and walk in circles for a few hours. It was 37 degrees. And cloudy. Cold enough to snow. Although it doesn't really snow in Sacramento. Like, ever. I dressed in layers being that I know it's cold, and being outside for several hours I didn't want all of me to freeze to death. I had on like 5 shirts. And a coat. So not kidding here. When I left Saddle Pals 4 hours later, it had only warmed up two degrees. So, now it's near 4pm and it's still barely 40 degrees outside. Seriously cold.

I've been permanently chilled to the bone. I'm still buried in my layers of clothes, including a nice warm hoodie, buried under two blankets (one of them made of down), and turned up my heater, and my cat sleeping on my feet. Every part of me is still freezing. The tip of my nose may fall off at some point.  I keep leaning over and sticking my fingers under my cat, because she's so damn warm.

I may have to haul her up to my face so I can feel my nose again.

It's A Half-Assed Weekend

Another weekend, another half-ass post, right? Just as Simple Dude would do.

So, in true New Year's fashion, I was scheduled to work. Yay me, right? Wrong. I got sick. Yay me! Shit. Really? New Year's has never been my holiday. Ever. And one year, a certain special fucktard douche bag asshole ruined it even further. Since that year, I've pretty much always worked on New Year's Eve, and to be honest, I prefer it that way. Why, you might ask? Because it's the lightest night of the year at work, and it's an easy night for us. Plus, I'm not alone, I'm not crying over being alone or heart broken, and I'm kept busy. I'm back to feeling better, although my throat is still a bit funky. But I should be able to go back to work tonight, and get back to business as usual.

I saw Cinderita's post this morning about living 2011 fearlessly. I'm not a fearless person by any means, in fact, I can be quite fearful. Or cautious might be a less offending term to myself. However, In a little over a month, I'm uprooting my life in Sac-town, and moving to Sticksville, USA to help out my grandparents.  I'd say that's a little fearless. Even though this change scares me still, I'm getting very excited about this change. I think I need a change. As someone else said this weekend: 2011 is going to be my bitch. So lookout, Sticksville, the city girl is coming to town.

I awoke to find I have two new followers today. Happy flippin' New Years to me! Thanks for following, I hope you stick around to see my new adventures in Sticksville, and me trying  not to fall face first into a cow pie. Although, as often as I've been on the ranch, I've yet to fall into a cow pie, or eat flying cow pies while riding the ATV's, so those stories may never actually take place. But I'm sure my learning experiences may make you laugh. I'm a dork, so something funny (to others) will take place, I'm quite sure.

So, I should probably stop blogging and get back to packing up and going through things. Time to break out the shredder so I can over-heat the damn thing. I have lots to do, and increasingly less time to do it in. Who knows what else I may find while packing up my life.

I'm Half-Assin' It

Well, I'm a follower, dammit, so therefore, it was only a matter of time before I followed Simple Dude in his Half Ass weekend posts. It was inevitable. Doomed Destined to happen. I am a Simpleton, after all.

 

Yesterday I noticed something made me slightly uncomfortable. My new neighbors across the drive staring at my apartment. Kinda creepy. The building across from mine is a set of two bedroom apartments, my building is a set of one bedrooms. So my sliding glass door is in my "dining/living" area, as opposed to the "master bedroom" of the two bedrooms. Yesterday as I was cleaning the mess on my dining table, I noticed that the new folks across the drive had their blinds open on their slider and I could see the blue sheets on their bed. I wondered if they realized that no one around here seems to have the blinds open on the windows the peer into their bedrooms. No one. Suddenly I noticed a pair of striped pajama bottoms standing in front of their slider. I kept to my own business, but kept glancing over and noticed that those pajama bottoms were still there. They even sat on the bed, facing my direction. Hmm. Chilling. It was like that for about an hour or so. I would have thought it was a pair of starched bottoms that had a life of their own until they went and sat on the bed. I eventually closed my blinds just to keep their prying eyes from continuing to creep me the fuck out. They really need to find someone else to peek in on, as my life is boring and my apartment is a mess. Plus I really don't want to get sucked into a weird version of Rear Window.

Christmas is next weekend and I'm having a hard time accepting it. I mean, where did the year go? Seriously, isn't only like, August or something? How did it become Christmas already? This year I have been avoiding the malls and stores because I'm broke, and can't afford much other than groceries and the occasional Big Mac. That reminds me, I need cat food. Please do not ask how a Big Mac reminded me I nee cat food . . . just go with it. I've thought about purchasing a tree, but I'd have to get a new tree stand since mine somehow got lost in my last move. Plus, there won't be presents under it so it would be a bit depressing. Looks like I'm Charlie Browning it again this year. Cool by me, since I am Charlie Brown and all.

I watched Letters to Juliet today, and enjoyed it. Anyone who is looking for a decent chick flick to watch, I would recommend this one. I had no idea about letter writing to Juliet, but apparently, people travel to Verona, Italy and leave letters/notes on Juliet's house. I found it romantic, sentimental, and a wee bit silly. But it's still sweet.