Have I got a 'before' for you!

Unfortunately, the 'after' is going to take 4 to 6 months.

Anyone have a spare room? or 5?

We think the cord to the reading lamp that sat beside the sofa short circuited. Thankfully, I was home and was able to awaken SweetieDarling and get her and the dogs out. Everything on our main living level is lost, but other than a bit of smoke inhalation on my part, everyone is fine. They tell me it was less than a minute or two from flashpoint. We would've lost the entire house if that had happened. So there's that.

We're in a motel, one of the few that allows pets. I've boarded the labs, but kept the little ones with me. We'll have to find a place to rent until the repairs are done.

I'm tired. I really just want to go home.

The Death of the Jaguar

It is with much sadness that I report that the jag has finally given up the ghost. The diagnosis? Transmission failure. The car was running fine when I parked it. I got in it to leave, put it in drive and nothing. Which is unusual, because transmissions don't just go bad sitting still. Unless it's a jag. Apparently.

I've managed to insult my mechanic (evidently I don't take the news of several thousand dollar repair bills very well), I've pissed off (better than pissed on, I always say) the second opinion mechanic I towed the damn thing to and some random guy who answers questions on the internet mechanics forum. Three for three - I'm on a roll! With much wailing and gnashing of teefs, some kicking and a bit of screaming, I have accepted that it is, indeed, the tranny. The upside is that I can honestly say that I've blown a tranny this week. Too bad it wasn't Eddie Izzard.

Let's recap, shall we?

June 09. Scene: me, standing at car auction, looking to buy something to replace the expedition. Cash in my hot little hand. Need something practical, that will go in snow and over rough roads. Auctioneer brings through the jag. I take one look, say "ooh, SHINY", throw all my money at the guy and drive away grinning like an idiot.

August 09. Scene: me at the jag dealer holding a printout of all the sensors, parts and various sundry things wrong with car. No longer grinning.

October 09. Car overheats, gets towed, has thermostat replaced, needs million dollar overflow tank. Still overheats, needs fan assembly replaced for additional million dollars. Frowning commences.

November and December are deceptively problem free. Tentative grinning is resumed. Grinning is soon replaced by the ugly cry as I realize that there is no way under the sun that I can afford to fix this car. And even if I could, I wouldn't because it would just be something else next week. If I had done my research properly in the first place, I never would have bought it. I was dazzled! Hoodwinked by her beauty! Taken in by her curves and smooth ride. (contrary to the previous sentence, this is not a p0rn blog) While I lovedlovedloved that car, if anyone asked me for a recommendation, I would suggest running away as fast as possible. Unless you have an unlimited supply of money and an import mechanic living with you.

Since I still haven't reached a settlement with F0rd for the expedition, I have to find some transportation that fits into my budget of $0. Stay tuned for the next episode of 'As the wheels don't turn'.

2010? You are NOT off to an auspicious start. Step it up.

My dogma ate my CAR-ma

Haha! See what I did there? Dogma/Karma?

I'm sorry. It's just that I'm light headed from all the numbers rolling around in my head. Big, huge, scary numbers that represent how much it's costing to get my car fixed. (If you're thinking 'well, that's what you get for driving a Jag', you're mean and you made me cry. Happy?)

It just overheated, no big deal right? Wrong. You couldn't possibly be wronger in the whole history of being wrong, ever. I put a thermostat in it ($200). It ran fine. Until it didn't. Overheated again. This time I didn't catch it quick enough and it cracked the overflow tank, which of course is custom molded to fit in the little niche and lined in gold and plated with unicorn farts so therefore stupid expensive ($500).

Problem solved, right? HAH! Non, mon amie, non.

A few days later: WONK WONK High engine temperature. Catastrophic failure eminent. Cease and desist immediately. (at least that's what I hear when I see the temperature hand climbing)

So I give up and take it to an actual mechanic who diagnosed it as needing a new cooling fan assembly and harness ($760). So, yeah. I really hope you didn't want anything for christmas. We can go for a ride in my car if you want. No promises we'll get back though.

Whatever car repair god I pissed off still has it out for me. I was driving my daughters' car while mine was in the shop. She took it out last night, calls me at 10:00 (why do these calls never come before I get in my jammies?) and wails "why does everything you touch explode???". This is not sounding good. I ask her what I've exploded now. Her car is overheated on the side of the road.

And the cycle continues. Good news is, she has an escort. It really was just the thermostat and it only cost $10 to fix it. Score! Perchance the auto gods have been appeased and my good car karma restored all around.

I should have been a dentist

SweetieDarling has been suffering for days with a toothache. She finally decided to tell me about it two days ago. I sent her to the dentist hoping she could get a filling and be done with it. Oh no. No no no. Couldn't be that simple. She needs a root canal and a crown. Or she must have the tooth extracted. Now, I know we live in West by gawd Virginia, but I cannot have my 18 year old daughter running around missing a tooth. Even if it is one in the way back that wouldn't affect her beautiful smile.

So she's referred to an oral surgeon who specializes in these things. Do you know how much a root canal costs? Well sit down, because you're about to be shocked. $985!!!!! Do you believe that? That's ONE THOUSAND DOLLARS!!!! I was absolutely gobsmacked!!!! I hope I don't run out of exclamation points!!! Because then how would you know how dismayed I am?!!

When I set up the appointment for the xrays, I asked the scheduler if piercings were a problem. See poppets, my SweetieDarling, she's a bit of a goth child. You know the ones, black hair, eyeliner, nailpolish, lipstick. So many piercings they look like they fell face first into the tackle box. The ones you either point at or run away from at the mall? That's my girl. And I didn't want her to go for the xray and all that metal in her head melt together and fuse into some kind of terminator/robo cop hybrid mask. Apparently, since the rays are centered onto the tooth only, it doesn't matter.

It's a good thing her mouth is sore and she can't chew. After paying for this, there won't be food around here for the rest of the month.

A Tragedy of Unspeakable Horror

Not really. I'm very dramatic. But it was tragic, none the less.



Would you consider this the face of a vicious killer? A terrible monster capable of horrendous acts? No? Neither did I. Until this:

(pretend there is a picture of a horribly mangled and dismembered laptop cord here. Humor me, the picture won't load)

Yes. That is the power cord to my laptop. Otherwise known as my lifeline. My connection to the internetz. And it died a horrible and lonely death in the jaws of that beast. *sniff* It was so young. So innocent. So much life left in it. I was trying to be nice and kind and help a poor scared puppy and it was sacrificed in the face of my selflessness. It was a very stormy night. Yes, thunderstorms in October, I know. The pup was scared senseless in her crate, so out of the kindness of my heart I let her sleep in the bedroom.

I'm passed out from xanax sleeping soundly when I hear this cacophonous yelping and whimpering. I jump out of bed to see the dog with my power cord hanging out of her jaws, getting herself a good shock. I debated letting her keep getting shocked for a while, but I thought that might fry my laptop, which was hooked up and charging. So I pulled the plug, and the pup disappeared under the bed. Smart move on her part. She knows I'm too old and fat to go under there after her, so I contented myself with stomping around grousing about how I'm certainly not paying $150 for a new cord because it wasn't my stupid dog that ate this one and somebody best be ordering me a new one toot suite.

After f-f-f-four d-d-days without my sweet elixir of life I'm so far into withdrawal I'm imagining bugs under my skin and hallucinating the UPS guy on the porch. When he finally did show up, I practically attacked him. And hot as he is, all I wanted was his package. Not that package, freak, my cord. So now I have it and all is right with the world once again. Me and my internetz are together and we all lived happily ever after. The end.

ps. this post about the Dude wrecking the car? Absolute truth, swear to Dog. Will send pictures of scars if requested.

It may be time to downsize

I currently drive a Ford Expedition sporting the license plate seen above. At this point, I'm fortunate to be able to feed myself and this beast. I've driven an Expedition since 1999 (not the same one) and it is my vehicle of choice. It serves its purpose by having enough room to haul materials needed for various jobs, being high and heavy enough to traverse very off-road job sites, having a large enough engine to pull various smaller pieces of machinery if needed, and, most importantly, a dvd player to keep Silas occupied whilst being hauled around all day. Unfortunately, I can't keep it and it breaks my heart.

I'm not the type to name my vehicles and talk to them and anthropomorphize them like some do, but I do have some loyalty and feel like a traitor getting rid of it. The fact is, I just can't afford it. And that makes me angry. I've worked hard to get to the point where I should be able to afford anything I want, within reason.


My industry is fuel based. My machines can't move without diesel fuel in them. Diesel now is very close to $5 a gallon. Because of the economy, or everyones perception of what the economy is and is going to be, my customers will not tolerate any price increases. Operating costs are quickly approaching the levels of the money coming in. Amount of $$ coming in = amount of $$ going out = no $$ for me.


So in the interest of economy, I'm downsizing. To this:

And if I need to get around a muddy job? I always have these:

(No, I don't actually own these. I snagged the picture off of ebay. Where no one had purchased them yet. Go figure.)

It's a hairy situation

A decision has been made. An agonizing, mind searing, life changing decision.

I'm going au naturel. (You totally thought I was leaving my husband, didn't you?)

I'm growing out the grey, shaking out the salt, letting the silver fox out to play. Embracing my inner old lady, if you please. Really, I'm just cheap. The $300 per month I'm spending on covering my grey could be better spent elsewhere. Things like shoes college fund, new clothes paying down the mortgage, personal trainer gas.

My natural color, before it became white, was Indian black. Not dark brown, or just black, but blue black. They tell me there's Cherokee on my mother's side since they're all dark. Cherokee my ass. My son looks like Sayid on Lost and they're claiming Cherokee? But it is board straight and now it's about 3 inches long. I cut it all off today. Shortest it's ever been since I was but a wee babe. Since there is no graceful way to grow white roots out of "mocha honey express with caramel highlights" hair, I'm just going for it. For your viewing pleasure, I'm including a picture of my roots.

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you. But be forewarned; it's only going to get worse. I'm going to post one of these every month until it's grown out. Then I'm going to ask opinions, carefully weigh all options, and run screaming back to my hairdresser begging him to make it go away for the love of god and all that is holy COVER IT UP! But I really want to know what it looks like. And although it's unlikely, I may like it.

And at least while I'm not coloring it, I'll avoid another one of these debacles.

The Circus, Part Deux

Circus time finally arrived, after repeated cries of "is it time to go?" all day. Piglet left the field in the middle of his t-ball game to ask if it was time to go yet. Finally, 6:00. We drive 30 minutes to Winchester, park at the mall, and get into a line approximately one quarter to one half a mile long. I know it's supposedly the largest show in the world under the bigtop, but come on! I immediately upgraded our tickets to VIP, lest we have to sit up with the acrobats.


After a delightful forty five minutes in line, I see my former new husband. He's not as nearly as dashing or european without the scarf. He tries to lure me with treats:



When that doesn't work, he tries the sexy pose:



Alas, Piglet has picked out a new daddy:



But, being the picky ho that I am, I leave him for Reynaldo:





Seriously, anyone want to go halfsies on a circus? I am talking money machine.

$44 to get in, and that's with Piglet being free.

$5 popcorn

$5 cold, half raw hot dog that was immediately trashed

$5 small cup soda (flat)

$10!! funnel cake

$15 stoopid light up gun that's driving me insane



Potential business partners, please e-mail me.

A River Runs Through It

How high's the water, mama?
Two feet high and risin'
How high's the water, papa?
Two feet high and risin'
We can make it to the road in a homemade boat
That's the only thing we got left that'll float
It's already over all the wheat and the oats,
Two feet high and risin'

Johnny Cash
Five Feet High and Risin'

Happy Monday. Can you guess what I awoke to from the title? Yep. A flooded basement. We've had torrential rains since Saturday night. While the rain would ease up a bit to a steady downpour, it's mostly been extremely heavy, can't see through it, raining sideways kind of rain. Because the water came into the house from outside, homeowners insurance will not cover the damages. If a pipe had burst in the house and flooded the basement, it would have been covered. If I had flood insurance it would have been covered. But I don't have flood insurance because? That's right, I live on a MOUNTAIN!! NOT in a flood plain. Grrrrrr



See the debris about one foot up the wall? That's how high the water was. No, I don't know where that curtain rod floated in from.



So, 180 wet vacced gallons later, I'm wondering how to dry out a floor when it's still raining out.

Dollah Dollah Bills, ya'all

Guess what I've done this week? Well, mostly nothing. But when I wasn't doing nothing, I was spending money. LOTS of money. And not on anything good like an Iphone or Prada bag. No, I dropped may-jah dollahs on an engine. For a dump truck. I usually don't talk about work stuff here (you know, I have been blogging for all of month now, so I can say usually, right?) because it's, well, boring. But I just have to get some opinions. If someone you hired to do a job neglected certain aspects of that job and the result of that neglect cost you upwards of $30,000, what would you do? OK, good answers. Now, let's say that the person is a family member that you have to interact with every day of your everlasting life (because he totally is). Now, what would you do? Little harder, huh?

As an aside, I don't mean to sound like I'm rolling around in the money over here. Trust me, after this little debacle, the only thing I'm rolling in is dirt. I guess it could've been worse.