I’m going to the races today for a marketing event with a friend of mines. Her sales pitch to get me to go was “there’s going to be ALL YOU CAN EAT FOOD! LOTS of it! Any and everything you could think of.” Lol, I mean…do I look greedy? But okay, you’ve twisted my arm. I’ll go. And eat. Hahaha. I like the old timey feel of going to a horse race and saying that I’m going to bet on a pony. It’s kind of cool, and the park and view of the mountains is absolutely stunning. Hmm… now that I think of it, maybe she kept trying to sell me on the food because when we went to the L.A. Times Food and Wine event I was damn near running from station to station sampling everything they had to offer, while she ate little to nothing. But she told me to go hungry so I hadn’t eaten for hours prior to us getting there, and we didn’t get there until mid-afternoon when the event was almost over.
I have trees for my backyard now! New trees, that is. I’ve always just had the one big one back there (two in front) but now that my neighbors’ ugly old shed is exposed on one side of my property, I needed to add some privacy/pretty ambiance. So my gardening-lady-friend picked up 4 trees for me to plant back there. She gets them wholesale so I saved a ton of my schillings. Now I’m just waiting for it to rain and the ground to soften up a bit for me to plant them. I hope I don’t kill them. Although she assures me that I won’t; that they’re super easy to take care of. I hope she’s right. I’m struggling with the succulent clippings she brought me last time. And succulents are supposed to be easy=peasy. I paid The Boy and a few of his friends yesterday to clear the area and clean up a bit over there yesterday. Next, I’m thinking of adding a white little garden picket fence and some teapot planters (idea I saw on pinterest) to jazz it up and make it comfy cozy. I cannot WAIT until the weather stays warm and I can spend time out there, project a movie out there, sit around the fire pit…aaaah, it’s going to be grrrreeat!
The other day we had to feed Seth a cricket with a pair of tweezers. He isn’t doing too well, poor guy. We’ve had him for 6 years and I had almost given up hope, thinking that he would die soon and feeling like there was nothing we could do about it. But then I actually woke up in the middle of the night worrying about that little critter. So after work on Tuesday Miles and I went to Pet Smart for some advice and to buy five large crickets. The sales rep told us to try feeding him ourselves since he can’t see. The problem is that he sheds often and with the crazy weather changes he’s not getting enough moisture in his tank to help rid him of the excess skin. And, although it has crossed my mind, I am not buying a room humidifier just for him (I wonder if they have one for his tank...hmm...GOOGLE!). So for months now he has had what looks like a skin helmet clouding his eyes and nostrils, poor thing. When his tail started to thin out and he began hiding more, we knew things weren’t good for him. Anyway, we got him to eat one cricket with the help of a pair of tweezers and it was obvious that he was starving; he just couldn’t see his prey to catch them. When my son lifted his hand and the tweezers out of the tank, there was a cricket leg still attached, haha. Gross. But Sethy is eating and he’s no longer hiding out.
Then, on my way home about a week or so ago, the check engine light in my car came on. I took it in for service. Two hours later they tell me that they also fixed a recall issue with the dashboard. Apparently, some people were experiencing a rattling noise in their dashboards while they drove. I wasn’t one of those people, though…until they tried fixing the problem in mine. The very next day I was on the freeway ready to pull my hair out (or about to crash) trying to figure out what was making that rattling sound in my dash. So I finally took it back in after work yesterday and they weren’t done with it until 9pm last night. Luckily, I live nearby so I was able to walk home and wait in comfort. But I still have to take the car back because they had to order the tiny part that is missing in the dash.
I’m getting pickier and pickier as I age. I think. Or maybe it’s just that now I know precisely what I want and what I won’t bother to deal with. A cartoonist befriended me about a week ago. He’s a pretty good artist. I sized him up and while he’s not one of my types, I decided to give him a shot anyway. Eh… I’m already not interested. His teeth are majorly fucked up yet he’s always smiling! Lol, wtf? And not even a little smile. Nope, a great big ole, full of teeth smile. I looked at his Facebook page the other day and he has over 4000 “friends” and is HEAVILY into sports. Red flags. I’m talking about every single post for 2011 and 2012 he made was sports related. Dude is obsessed. Like there is nothing else going on in his life. In every one of his pictures he’s wearing a team jersey, team hoodie, team beanie. I also noticed that his raggedy teeth have a brown hue. He’s fit, he’s always in the damn gym, but if all you want to talk about is sports you’ve got the wrong girl. I’ll watch…occasionally, and I’ll go into the other room to read and let you watch…occasionally. I’ll even attend live games and enjoy myself. But I will not subject myself to sports 24/7. No sir-ee, Bob. I’m not interested. And it seems that’s all he wants to talk about.
Him: how was your weekend?
Me: Great! I did x, y and z. How was yours?
Him: I watched basketball.
Me: ...Oh, okay :) March Madness, huh?
Him: and the nba.
Me: …
Him: …
I don’t know why some guys want a woman who is just like them, loves every single thing that they love, etc. Women don’t expect men to want mani/pedi’s, to think Anthony Mackie is hot, to be anxious about seeing the latest chick flicks, or want to watch home improvement and decorating shows with us, etcetera. Let me have my interests and I’ll let you have yours. Hell, I’m even open to liking some stuff you like but don’t push me and don’t act like it’s a requirement. It's merely a plus. As long as we’re similar and like-minded that’s all that should matter. Don’t force your shit on me and be devastated if I don’t love it. I am not you with a vagina.
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