*WARNING*
For those of you who are new around here or are under the impression that I am a nice person. I just want you to know that I am, but I am about to lose my shit in the following paragraphs and I just don’t want you to hold it against me. You’ve been warned. - Oh, and fair warning, sarcastic comments probably won’t be looked at kindly today. Just so you know.

You know what? I’m goddamn done being the nice guy, being the bigger person. And so help me God, someone is going to pay for this garbage in a big, fat, ugly, ass raped, burn for eternity in hell kind of way.

We do not have a home owner’s association. Thank God, around here they are pretty much nothing but trouble and complete bullshit.

My front yard? Is immaculate. I’d post pictures but I’m too fucking pissed to go outside right now, because if IF I see a neighbor look at me so much as slightly crossway I’m going to light their ass up bigger than any fucking 4th of July barbecue.

My backyard? IMMACULATE. Slightly immature, but what do you expect for a yard that is only a year old?

We have a 1964 Chevy truck in our driveway. It won’t fit in the garage, it’s 4-wheel drive, and primer gray. We don’t drive it because a.) it’s my son’s truck, waiting for time for he and his father to make it pretty again (also it was owned by my FIL originally and passed down to Mike) and b.) umm, it doesn’t have appropriate seat belts and WHY in God’s name would we drive it around when we have two vehicles of our own and our son does not have a license yet, hmmm? Essentially, it’s a classic that just needs to be restored.

Some stupid, fucking, cockwadding, asswiping, numbfuck, twatsicle neighbor called to complain to the city about the truck and the two bantam chickens in the backyard. Oh yes, the TWO, TINY chickens in the backyard that control unwanted pests and are totally a GREEN FRIENDLY SAVE THE ENVIRONMENT (there is currently a bill they are trying to get passed to allow this for home gardeners) alternative to spraying chemicals around our children and further polluting the planet.

The guy from the city? Thought it was funny actually. Considering there are train tracks nearby and non-fucking stop construction from the construction crews who refuse to wait until their 7am start time to start building the fucking houses on the lots that line the back of our property. He walked into a lovely backyard with butterflies buzzing around, daylilies in bloom, and two adorable chickens nesting under the butterfly bush.

Two chickens that I have to get rid of TODAY and THEN call this guy back out to ensure that we did it.

If I find out which neighbor it was - God help them. I will make their lives a living hell.

How about the neighbors in the cul-de-sac who have lined their fucking front porch with hideous looking plants and LEFT THEM in the ugly black containers from the nursery so it looks like a weed (and not the good kind) factory behind their stupid ass looking fountain and house that they have fronted with four different kinds of mismatched rocks that looks like a design nightmare straight from hell.

Or perhaps the neighbor two doors over with the 8 foot weed in her front bed and backyard that is nothing but dirt - when our purchase contracts state that we have to put in a backyard within a year of occupying the property?

Oh wait.. or maybe the neighbors behind us who threw a big ass party with cars lined up and down the streets and then several party goers pulled up with a flat bed trailer and started loading up lumber from the construction site? (Mike called the police on that one)

Or the neighbor across the street who NEVER MOVED in and has 6 foot weeds in the backyard and beds overflowing with weeds in the front yard?

Oh wait, let’s not even mention the stupid fucks in the cul-de-sac who bought a house that is terra cotta and GRAY only to paint the door flaming fucking twat-wad red? Hmmmm?

Or the nine houses on the streets around us where no one is mowing their damn lawn?

Or the house next door that is not foreclosed on (YET) and the backyard has HUGE weeds growing in it that I have to look at every time I fucking go out on the deck.

OR the fucking neighbor two doors over with 3 full size Dobermans (and at least one more small dog) that bark NON FUCKING STOP? It’s not even legal to have that many dogs here and why would you put 3 HUGE dogs in a tiny dog run in a tiny backyard anyway? And the BARKING? Did I mention the constant BARKING?

But NO, immaculate front yard and very pretty backyard owning US - get harassed.

I’m livid. I love this house but all the neighbors can go suck a rotten cock for all I care.

UPDATE
Although not much of one. Mike was in contact with another gentleman (from the same part of town we are in) who has close to an acre (zoned for livestock) where he has bunnies and bantam chickens. He is more than happy to come and pick up Hank and Chickie. We’re just happy to have found a home that will treat them as kindly as we have. Although, that is little consolation. I’m going to miss going out and talking to Chickie and petting her. She coos so pretty when you pet her.

Of course, this does little to quell my deep desire for revenge. I’m trying to work through the anger but it’s pretty hard. My neighbor next door couldn’t believe it. She’s of the “Nancy Drew” nature, so maybe she’ll find something out. As it stands, I can’t say for sure it’s a neighbor, maybe it was one of the builder’s employees, maybe it was someone in the sales office, it could just have been some “Johnny Rulebook” who happened to walk by.

But, if I find out who it was…

But, I have a hard time thinking I’m as off as someone might have me believe.

This is my house (shortly before we moved in) I would have taken a new picture but a nasty dust storm has blown in and I am not going outside. Ok, so picture:

See the three windows (with the oh-so-helpful red circle?) right in the middle above my front door?

That opens on to an entry that is open to the second story ceiling. A lot of heat (during the summer) comes through those three windows. Lots of options (even inexpensive options) are available to handle this issue.

Yet, someone (who shall remain nameless to protect his/her anonymity) suggested painting a panel (perhaps cardboard?) and using a stick to put them up there in the windows.

When I objected (probably with a more horrified and offended look than I should have used) to this suggestion, I was told that no one else cares what I have in my windows, that no one else (other than myself) pays that much attention to other houses.

So, I ask you:

Do you pay attention to other houses and what things the owners may or may not have done to them or am I just strange?

How would you feel about having some sort of home made panel put in your windows that face the street?

And, yes, in case you are wondering, we DO have an extension ladder.

The kids are back in school. We ended Winter Break with a forward looking meal. That’s right, we eat seasonally around here. Soups, stews, and roasts in the fall/winter; tacos, grilled chicken/fish/steak, salads, sandwiches spring/summer. But, we broke with the usual and made grilled chicken tacos, home-made guacamole, home-made bean dip, home-made salsa, and pico de gallo instead. I suppose in some way at the end of a winter break you need something to remind you that another break is just around the corner. And what says “Spring Break” like grilled chicken tacos and home-made guacamole?

Christmas is slowly fading into memory. Everything is put away and the only lasting reminder is the wreath still dangling on the front door and the bright red welcome mat at the front door. Eeeek!!!

Lots of stuff to look forward to. I turn 32 the end of this month, that’s pretty cool, better than the alternative. Oh, yeah, I’m back on my diet as of today… good times… gooooood times. Snow is finally dumping in the mountains and some time very soon we’ll pile into the family wagon and make the trek up to our favorite sledding hill. I have to call and schedule my “annual” exam. Yep, lots of good times to look forward to.

So, the kids are back in school and last night they were wandering through the kitchen as I made Mike and I another Bloody Mary wondering (as opposed to wandering) why their mother was stirring blood red drinks while madly humming the theme to “Bewitched.”

Liza has decided that my much beloved red, velvet curtains in my bedroom are her ultimate nemesis. I have no idea why but they must be incredibly offensive to deserve the thrashing her brand new little claws are giving. I don’t know if I can handle much more… I might have to resort to a spray bottle. I hope not. At the moment she enjoys having a bath and I don’t want to ruin that with a spray bottle and a penchant for not liking my drapes ruined.

Finally got a case of Sam Adam’s Winter Lager… it’s good, but I almost think I like the Octoberfest better.

Anybody else tried it this season?

Ok, so it’s Monday… the weekend went by way to fast for me. We’ve all been sick off and on for the past couple of weeks. Mike and I are suffering from exhaustion. I think we slept most of the weekend. I (we are) am in desperate need of some time off.

I’ve been fiddling around the house, trying to finally, maybe decorate my bedroom on a nearly nonexistent budget. Eh… it’s an excuse to be creative.

The animals are all happy campers, the laundry is nearly caught up and yes, yes, I’m still way too far behind where Christmas shopping is concerned. It is what it is.

Hope your Monday is far better than mine.

In the wee hours of last Friday morning the entire house was awakened by the most horrifying and panic inducing sound EVER.

Our smoke alarms went off.

Not one… but several.

Leaping out of bed I immediately went to Ethan and Kate’s rooms and told them to get out of bed… not that it was necessary as they were already stumbling into the hall.

Maggie, clearly in “ignorance is bliss” land, yelled (from my bed) “TURN that OFF, I’m SLEEPIN’!”

Mike, in his underwear, jumped out of bed, probably envisioning himself in a scene from “Red Dawn” where he and Patrick Swayze were mowing down Russian invaders. He ran out into the hall and stared at the smoke detector.

There was no smoke. No fire. Nothing. We checked the closets (although what flammable item would be in there, I have no clue), the kitchen, garage, bathrooms, bedrooms, laundry room…

Actually, I checked the laundry room. And, while in there Mike said, “Get a broom and check the attic!”

A broom? To check the attic?

Oh, what was this some lovely veiled joke about me being a witch?

No, he wanted me to poke the attic door to open it.

Half asleep and starting to wonder if I should get the kids out of the house, I grabbed my trusty swiffer (who has a broom these days?) and standing directly underneath the attic door, I poked… hard. There was a slight crack (we rarely, if almost never open the attic door) and something fell into my EYE!!!!

I let the door drop and began stumbling around half blinded.

This is when it occurred to me that if the house really were on fire, I would be playing the part of the idiot in the “what NOT to do if your house is on fire” part of the instructional video.

Kate and Maggie were sitting on my bed half asleep, Ethan was no where to be found, and Mike was roaming the house ala Red Dawn.

Kate and I stepped out on to the deck where I had a fleeting thought about this not being a good place to be if the house were on fire… you know, standing on a wood deck and all. The sky was early morning purple with large puffy clouds, some tinged in pink signaling the arrival of sunrise. I glanced down and Ethan was standing in the backyard scanning the rooftop.The idea of being a human marshmallow tickled me for a split second until I became aware of an overwhelming, stifling heat. The air was so thick I could barely breathe. I looked across our roof and saw… nothing. Absolutely nothing.

That heat? The heatwave California is currently enduring combined with a nasty sort of humidity causing the air to be uncomfortably thick in the pre-dawn hours before the sun has a chance to burn it off.

The smoke alarms stopped on their own and everyone went back to bed.

20 minutes later… it happened again. Cue same scene, Mike leaping out of bed, kids meandering aimlessly and I was seriously starting to wonder what I needed to get out of the house.

Even the cat was running up and down the hall in complete confusion.

And, then, they stopped.

I’m changing the batteries today. Yeah, yeah, a month a head of time… but still.

And, through it all, wondering what to take out of the house, doing head counts, etc. etc. Sophie, ran laps in her cage while pausing to beg for treats.

I want to preface this by saying that I our next door neighbors. They are very, very NICE. Absolutely PERFECT neighbors. And, I am NOT just saying that because she is one of my friends on MySpace - honest!

Every night - usually late, Mike and I trip on out to the deck and have a drink (or several) and try to unwind. The thing is, our deck is on the second story off of our bedroom, and sometimes you can feel a little like odd sitting out there when you can easily see into your neighbors backyards. So, if RnC (the neighbors, formerly known as Nick and Jessica due to them being newlyweds, but really that is kind of an insult because they are SOOO freaking cool) have people hanging out in their backyard - we don’t go out there because we don’t want to look like we are - insert whatever obnoxious neighbor thing you can think of here - you know?

So last night I tripped out onto the deck alone and was just about to light the candles (citronella to keep mosquitoes away) when I noticed that they were outside with a friend. So instead, I didn’t light the candles and hung out listening to my iPod and playing some stupid game on my cell phone.

This morning… I have a HUGE ASS mosquito bite on my elbow and the back of my shoulder.

It doesn’t pay to be nice.

Over the weekend we really dug into some home improvement projects. Saturday we built a sandbox for Maggie. We didn’t order a kit or anything, Mike designed it and built it himself. For weeks we had been debating what to do to give Maggie something to really play with in the backyard. When we decided on a sandbox for Maggie everything fell into place.

We built it in a day and filled it… all in a day. We took Maggie with us to help decide what kind of sand for it and to buy the lumber. Maggie was very excited. In fact, she hopped into the second she was allowed to and we couldn’t get her out of it for hours.

And sometimes they let Maggie play in it too!

As in sod… as in my “new” backyard!

Trenchers, pipes, sprinklers, flexboard, and an early morning sod delivery, let’s not forget the wheelbarrow and blatant displays of testosterone.

Before:

Taken just before we trenched for the sprinkler system. I say “we” because I was there, supervising and encouraging the process. These sorts of projects take a strong, female leader to really pull it off with any sort of style.

After:

See what I mean? Do you think that would have happened with just a man in charge? I think not!!

I hope Kate realizes that there are not many girls who get their backyard landscaped as a birthday present. I joke! But, we did push to get it done so that the girls wouldn’t have to camp out in a tent on the dirt!!! (eeek, who would DO such a thing?!?!?)

“What’s next?” You might ask? Aside from more plants, and additional patio furniture obviously. Currently we have a gorgeous granite fire pit for the patio and several canvas camping chairs around it. I’m not fond of canvas or camping chairs for that matter. I’m looking forward to black iron furniture with lovely cushions.

Of course, as long as all the camping chairs are utilized in the backyard, I don’t have to go camping. Not that I mind camping when an RV, and decent bathrooms and showers are involved, or better yet, a hotel room.

Aside from all that, I’ve got a list! Next would be the sandbox for Maggie and the pond and waterfall for our super fat fish. Then the built-in outdoor kitchen, more concrete, and next summer, maybe, a pool!!!

Oh, be still my heart!!!

I don’t plan on getting dirty or anything, but I DO plan on supervising… closely.

I just figure that if you are in the handbasket headed for hell you might as well say, “WHEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!” and enjoy the trip.

The honey-do list seems to get a little longer every day. Although, I suppose it is just a “To-Do” list in general because I really couldn’t give a shit who manages to get anything on the list done as long as it gets… done.

It’s finally Friday and the weekend is here. The only bad thing about the weekend’s arrival is the weekend chores it brings with it. Housecleaning, laundry, etc. Not that I only do these things once a week, but let’s face it, I don’t have much time during the week to get things like that done.

I’d really like to blow the whole “be responsible” thing off and sleep all weekend. I’m tired and I think I’m on the verge of burnout. Mike has been fighting off this cold/flu thing that everyone else has had for the last week or so. What sounds wonderful is staying in our pajamas all weekend flipping between A&E, The Discovery Channel, HGTV, and The History Channel.

The chances of any of that happening are extremely remote.

By late Saturday morning we’ll decide that something should be accomplished. Mike will check his email and find he has something business-related to reply to, I’ll throw in a load of laundry and suggest some project that will require the entire family to tear something apart, reorganize it, and the put it all back together. By Saturday night I’ll be too tired to go out to dinner and way to tired to cook or assist in cooking, by Sunday night I’ll be just as tired as I was Friday night and I’ll have wished I just stayed in bed all weekend.

Monday the cycle starts all over again and by Thursday I’ll be right back here trying to come up with a blog post that will be worth your attention.

I apologize now for wasting your time. Please move on to something more interesting.

And, thank God this has nothing to do with the SlaveMaster. *ass*

I was just thinking that there are only a couple of months left in the year. That’s not much. Then it occurred to me… wow, there have been a lot of interesting things that have happened this year. That’s when it occurred to me that I should do some sort of annual review - except earlier then most annual reviews so that it doesn’t get mixed up with “Top 100 Videos of 2006″ or “Top 100 People of 2006″ - because, obviously, my review would clearly outshadow those.

This means that you get my annual review - well, now.

2006 Was The Year:

• I turned 30
• We celebrated another year of wedded bliss
• We moved into our new house
• My son graduated from eigth grade - *ouch*
• My mother got a facelift from Dr. Hottie
• I sucked the Hamster up in the vaccuum
• I got my husband fired by The Former Employers Who Shall Not Be Named who shall now only be referenced as TFEWSNBN. - which is looking like a blessing in disguise now
• We started a new business
• My son started High School - double ouch
• My daughter entered the 6th grade
• I developed the world’s worst zit
• Adopted my cousin’s cat… who is the devil incarnate and apparently is plotting my murder while I sleep.
• I was “diagnosed” with scent-oriented OCD - ask her
• I let her talk me into starting another blog.

Now, I’d just like to finish out the year quietly and calmly. I’d like to get through the holidays with no tragedies, accidents, facial explosions, or my own untimely demise at the paws of a pissed off cat. That’s what I’d like… we’ll see if it happens.